So, I’ve been bad about posting lately. Back in April, I left for a month long holiday in Europe (cruise from Miami to Madeira to Portugal to Barcelona, flew from Barcelona to Vienna for a week to see a friend, hosteled it in Copenhagen for three days, and Couchsurfed my way back through Iceland), and then the minute I got home all hell broke loose. My cousin was over from England, my appendix exploded, ghosts of university past appeared, and I put a new proposal out for a project I’m rather excited about but will stay mum until there’s something concrete to announce.
So I totally forgot THE BIG NEWS. I got into UofT. A feat considered impossible by some. I will be an MA in Arts- History at the University of Toronto come September. I’m very excited about this- there is light in the darkness people!
I am currently working with my grandmother’s war memoirs in preparation for my research proposal, which involves Latvian female refugees during World War II. Exciting- and obscure- stuff to be sure, but it’s all there: Nazis, Communists, stolen babies, dead husbands, death, pestilence, resistance…
To wet the pallet:
Before iron twilight descended over the helpless half of Europe, Latvia was a place of beauty, intellect, and life. Riga, first taken by the Vikings and the ancient port city of the Hanseatic League, counted itself among the fashionable capitals of Northern Europe. It was a city teeming with intellectuals; writers, artists, musicians- bohemians that gave the city a particular vivacity that merged seamlessly with the elegance of the old world. It was a city of beauty and life- but also one of connection. Riga’s ancient roots as an important seaport meant that its value would not come to be measured by its acquisitive neighbours in artistic, aesthetic or intellectual terms; its worth would ultimately, and most bitterly, be determined by its connection to the sea.