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Dad likes to tell me stories about growing up on a farm. I did not grow up on a farm. I grew up firmly in the suburbs, where the roads are paved, driving ages are enforced, and wearing cowboy boots to class is considered a fashion faux-pas. The farm stories to me feel like the …

Poulenc’s “Dialogues of the Carmelites” and the Grip of the Absurd

It is hard to explain to people the power of opera if they just haven’t… you know… had one of “those” moments.

The Art of Facebook and Changing for the Better

It is nearly two o’clock in the morning on the night before I return to school for my final semester of my undergraduate degree. I have nearly fifty tabs open on my computer, most of them applications to such-and-such job or internship, maybe even a half-finished email to Professor So-and-So. But I’m not looking at …

In Honor of Jane Mitchell’s 90th Birthday

I took a selfie with my grandmother today. I held the phone in front of our faces and our images were filtered through its tiny lens, digitally encoded, and displayed back to us on the screen. I took a selfie with my grandmother and the only thing she could say at the sight of herself …