This review is a personal perspective on Tracey Lindberg’s Birdie, and outlines my own impressions regarding this narrative. There are no spoilers, so if you haven’t read it yet, don’t worry! If you have, I would love to hear your own reflections in the comments below!
Weaving many flash-fiction works into a single, bound narrative, Paulo Da Costa’s The Midwife of Torment paints humanity in its honest bright colours and oscillating emotions of anger, anguish, terror, and curiosity. Between the pages of these sudden fictions lies the nuance of our everyday existence, filtered through Da Costa’s own internal struggle concerning his simultaneous anger and affection for modern humanity.
He said two days.
We are hungry. We have shirts wrapped over our noses from the smell. This is a life very different, far from Papa’s old brown recliner or Mama’s familiar scent. And no one knows how long the dark man with the white eyes has been gone.
We’d been counting the hours by the changing sheen of the glare on the floor that seemed so far below us. It was dark otherwise. We’d all come in at different times that first day, but I’d counted about 30 of us, all crammed in, itching and sneezing, taking our turns moving slowly under the close ceiling of pink insulation toward an open air vent. On our second rotation, Emeto reverted to our old airport game.
Although I wrote on this topic in 2013 for (a now defunct) imagirl.ca, I think it’s body-positive message is just as important today. That’s why I am re-posting it here (with minor updates) for those of you who might be looking in the mirror thinking, “ugh!”
Show yourself some love and read the full article below!
Fun shapes, bold colours–certainly terms that describe the visual creations of Emily Storvold.
Still, anyone close to her knows that under her more playful layer is a head brimming with philosophical rumination, and more specifically, rumination as it relates to existence. That’s probably why she reacted so positively when I found myself asking:
“Hey, you want to talk about death?”
I’ve been thinking a lot about advertising lately. I’ve known from the beginning of its dangers, of its societal push. Still, there are successful adverts out there!
Which is why, in an age purported to be so connected, so conscious, I have to ask:
What the hell?
Well, it wasn’t exactly this ad, but an iteration of the same (where Johnny has clothes, and the fragrance is beside the wolf) had me cringing the other day. Witnessed outside The Bay at City Centre Mall, just staring down at me with those eyes all out of focus (maybe).
Listen, I’m following the news, minimally at best. Total headline browser; only the important stuff. I’m a certain novice in the advertising world, too, and might be way out to lunch here, but my question remains:
What was the marketing intention here?