Sunday, October 11, 2009
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The Rose was my supervisor. Her head is surrounded by a halo of gauzy, grey hair. She wears boxy, red blazers. She bears an uncanny resemblance to Margaret Atwood.
The Peacock was one of my teachers. Disorganized and perpetually late, she would come to class in a dizzy whirl of pashmina--out of breath after hustling in her Birkenstocks. She made up for these faults with her British accent. That, and she kind of reminded me of my Gran.
The Peacock was one of my teachers. Disorganized and perpetually late, she would come to class in a dizzy whirl of pashmina--out of breath after hustling in her Birkenstocks. She made up for these faults with her British accent. That, and she kind of reminded me of my Gran.
Brought to you by
- steph
- Editor-in-chief. Well, it's easy to get the flashy job title when it is your zine. But, that is the beauty of it. I am the head writer, photographer, artist and cutter-and-paster.
What's inside?
Issue Twelve
Eeesh: Coping with a return to Standard Time
Middlesex, and Haunted, and Zeroville: Oh my!
Goodbye, Midnight Spread. It's been real.
Hey, wait a minute, Mr. Postman!
Eeesh: Coping with a return to Standard Time
Middlesex, and Haunted, and Zeroville: Oh my!
Goodbye, Midnight Spread. It's been real.
Hey, wait a minute, Mr. Postman!
Contact
Want to own a tangible copy of The Rose and the Peacock?
Send requests to:
stephanie@
theroseandthepeacock.com
Send requests to:
stephanie@
theroseandthepeacock.com
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All collages and text; title The Rose and the Peacock © S.Mansell. All rights reserved.