Townhouse’s Model Citizens Exhibit

oum pushkina

img_6376Townhouse is about to close its month-long exhibit “Model Citizens,” in which a team of a dozen artists (working from over 10,000 photos of Townhouse’s neighborhood) created an extremely detailed miniature model of the neighborhood. After eight months, thirty citizens who live/ work in the neighborhood were interviewed on stories of the neighborhood’s history and what they would like it to look like. 

img_6380Changes have been made according to these people’s wishes. The idea itself–to propose an alternative vision for the future of the neighborhood other than what the government would choose–has allowed all of its viewers to appreciate the intricate details of their surroundings as well as challenged us to imagine this neighborhood in a way that we like to see it look. 

img_63781As I live in this neighborhood, and have for over a year, I was quite excited to see what changes locals wanted. The responses were certainly…

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‘Two Days, One Night’ Uses a Fairy Tale Formula to Tell an Adult Morality Tale


It’s probably safe to assume that you recall the fairy tale of the Three Little Pigs. In case, however, you’re a folkloric vegetarian, it centers around a certain Big Bad Wolf who, like a wandering salesman, travels to the poorly constructed homes of three pig siblings, knocks on their respective doors, then begins huffing and puffing and blowing their houses down. His attack isn’t completely architectural: he then eats the pigs (all but the last, who, SPOILER, built his house out of bricks). But what, you might well ask, do the Three Little Pigs have to do with the Dardenne Brothers’ captivating new film, Two Days, One Night? More than you might think, in fact.

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You’re Not Making The Most Out Of Your 20s

Thought Catalog

Reality Bites Reality Bites

It’s taboo to admit that you’re lonely. You can make jokes about it, of course. You can tell people that you spend most of your time with Netflix or that you haven’t left the house today and you might not even go outside tomorrow. Ha ha, funny. But rarely do you ever tell people about the true depths of your loneliness, about how you feel more and more alienated from your friends each passing day and you’re not sure how to fix it. It seems like everyone is just better at living than you are.

A part of you knew this was going to happen. Growing up, you just had this feeling that you wouldn’t transition well to adult life, that you’d fall right through the cracks. And look at you now. La di da, it’s happening.

Your mother, your father, your grandparents: they all look at you like…

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Poet Mourid Barghouti on His Wife, Novelist Radwa Ashour (1946-2014)


The relationship between Palestinian poet Mourid Barghouti and Egyptian novelist Radwa Ashour — as traced through their literary works — is one of the twentieth century’s great love stories:

182946_122926790673_2399930_nBarghouti and Ashour met as students at Cairo University in the 1960s, and he writes about the beginnings of their relationship in his second memoir, I Was Born There, I Was Born Heretrans. Humphrey Davies:

“I read my first poems to her on the steps of the Cairo University library when we were not yet twenty. We took part together in literary gatherings at the Faculty without it occurring to us that a personal interest had developed, or was developing, between us. We were students and limited our conversation to ‘professional’ matters such as our studies and never went beyond these into any intimate topic. She would tell me, ‘You will become a poet,’ and I would reply, ‘And what…

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Fuck Busy

The Belle Jar

Late last night I was cruising around on Pinterest because hey I’m a boring 30-something mom and that’s what I do when I can’t sleep. Which, by the way, is every night, meaning that I’ve developed a bit of a Pinterest habit, among other things (my  insomnia-beating arsenal includes such soothing activities as: watching documentaries about the Chernobyl “liquidators,” hate-reading the blogs of conservative white dudes, and sending slightly incoherent late-night messages to my friends and acquaintances). Anyway, I was happily scrolling through pictures of pretty landscapes tragically marred by trite sayings (example: a gorgeous mountain at sunset with DON’T GIVE UP, THE BEST IS YET TO COME scrawled across it in white letters) when I came across this:


I had one of those moments where I was like, “oh.” And then I was like, “yes.” And then I had this huge mishmash of complicated feelings that I’ve been trying…

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Family in Faith, and Faith in Family

Someone Called Yelmy

     If you’ve been closely hanging around me, or have had the courtesy to share your food with me, you’d probably know that I’ve been struggling with faith for more than a few years, now. But the peak of this struggle (at least, I believe it is the peak) has  been going on for more than 4 months. My second longest struggle was my choice of major.

     I am amazing when it comes to priorities, aren’t I?

     I’m not a theologist. I’ve never studied religion academically. I don’t read about religion that much at all, to be honest. So, many people are perfectly justified to label my doubt as unreasonable, or uncalled for.

     I mean, it’s not like I spend my free time popping up holy books and, and then  construct my own analysis based on what I read, and what others understood. But given…

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