Along with a flurry of new smiles and voices to acquaint oneself with, a sprinkle of tentatively sunny days, and the usual buzz of post-vacation excitement, the start of the Spring Semester at BCB brings with it a unique opportunity for new and returning students to explore the ultimately unknowable city that unfolds beyond our
TagMarga Hattingh
Just an Expression
Just an Expression I wish I could draw: Give form to my thoughts Relinquish all the chaos of my imagination onto a page for another’s to make sense of I wish I could tap that boom bang clang The fount of liquid fireworks inside my head Let drip their colours into paintings or
Taking SAD Seriously: An Informational Article
Rumours of a fast-approaching and fickel Berlin winter are making their way around the BCB campus. These rumours are not unfounded. With the rotation of the earth and Science, days are growing shorter and colder; light is growing less and dimmer as the sun is shrouded behind unknowably dense, grey clouds. The happy symphony of
On People and Poetry
Every Sunday evening at 8pm, when a hush has stolen itself over most of the BCB campus as students scramble to prepare for the week ahead, a motley crew of outspoken and observant personalities congregates in the W16 common room for an hour (or more) of poetry. If, on such a Sunday, you were to
You’ll Need More Than Good Syntax
The first time I saw and heard speak a real, published author in flesh and blood was in August of this year as part of the Language and Thinking Program offered at BCB, when Clare Wigfall came to discuss one of her short stories. The next time was in September, when the Romanian author Norman
Novemberlicht
As the days grow increasingly shorter, colder, and bleaker in Berlin, it can be tempting to shut oneself inside and despair at the absence of light and life. But despair not! Christmas markets, song, and snowfall accompany the Wintertime; with the cold and darkness comes the opportunity to better appreciate the warmth of fragrant glühwein
My Induction into the Teenage Cliche: A poetry series
A poem to the boy who owes my heart some heavy-duty patches, and soon, before it heals all crooked For awhile you were happiness A type I had never tasted before Somehow familiar – like nutmeg and cinnamon, fragrant and warm – But somehow, with laughter words a body and soul Your taste
Discussing Dialogues: Why Plato wrote them, and why we read them
I am surprised that it took me this long to figure out just who exactly this “Plato” guy was. Growing up, I heard the names “Plato”, “Socrates”, and “Aristotle” often, usually in relation to one another, but did not understand what these names contributed to Western philosophy and science. Until recently, the mention of one