by Mackenzie Patel That feeling, a fiery violet one full of exhilaration and passion and amazement, is such a sweet affair, especially when it pertains to a particular novel. After mowing through The Red Notebook by Antoine Laurain in mere days, I turned to his earlier novel, The President’s Hat, a few months later. I… Read More

by Mackenzie Patel For some reason, I tend to remember and cherish those memories that involve European cities, cultural monuments, velvety darkness, and golden lights piercing the black. There is something so ethereal about those hazy recollections at night that they seem almost unreal and surreal.  Did I haunt St. Peter’s Square at ten o’clock… Read More

by Mackenzie Patel Listening to the overwhelming beauty of Debussy’s Pagodes is like leaping into a timeless Impressionism canvas, the splotches of greens and natural blues and vivid yellows constructing themselves into a perfect meadow with beautiful Black Eyed Susans and tranquility. Hearing Scheherazade for the millionth time is no less gut-wrenching or spine-chilling than the… Read More

by Mackenzie Patel The thick, slightly musty, and fine print pages, stacked together so densely and perfectly, contained more information about Russian agriculture, turbulent love affairs, musings on peasants, and frivolities of the 19th century upper class than I thought I’d ever need. Of course, I’m referring to the literary beast that is Anna Karenina.… Read More