Although the events touch on important issues, and occasionally heavy issues, they’re certainly not all doom-and-gloom. In a time when contact with others is more limited than ever, the screenings provide an opportunity for connection.
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In her poem, A Blue Filter, which was recently longlisted for the CBC Poetry Prize, Warrener reflects on this spontaneity of memory. The poem centres around the first time she saw Irises blooming out the window of the morning train in Japan, where she taught English after graduating from the University of Victoria.
A huge print of David Bowie’s self-titled album cover. Neon tubing installed inside the frame of a painting. A tube-shaped sculpture made of suspended rice paper. What do these all have in common? The fall exhibition lineup for the Vancouver Art Gallery.
This year, the Poetry in Transit project celebrated its 24th year since its inception in 1996. Each year, a collection of works by BC authors and Canadian published poets makes its way through a selection process to find itself into transit.
The Speakeasy Podcast, a new podcast hosted by Santana that seeks to destigmatize taboo topics in sex while highlighting minority voices.
Sara De Waal won the University of Lethbridge’s Bridge Prize, her work earned her a $7500 first-place award beating out over 300 story submissions.
Reaching down to pause her music, she stopped. The road was now unpaved, and her step cracked in the rocky dust.
Students have reported that during their lectures, they would see a dark, cloaked spectre with a Jack-o-Lantern head passing behind professors and a few other students.
She was so ill that she hardly noticed when her coworkers stopped partying around her. Shrieks of drunken laughter turned into panicked screams and a splash as her boss fell overboard.
Lines such as “don’t go around tonight, well it’s bound to take your life” are great reminders that quarantine is the best way to spend this Halloween.
When I turned around, she looked incredibly startled. I was somewhat confused about why she was acting so oddly, suddenly she uttered words that caught me off guard;
I flipped the page, expecting to read about a winding staircase leading to an underground dungeon, or maybe to a secret lair, but instead, I felt my head start to dip towards my chest and my eyes beginning to shut.
We’ve sorted the movies into three categories based on intensity, but just in case be sure to lock your front door and sleep with one eye open!
When I was four years old, I lived in a haunted house in the heart of Surrey. It had a pretty cherry tree in the yard with a few resident individuals who were not alive.
During the course of their hour-long performance, they charmed and delighted while bringing some much-needed warmth and witty political commentary.