Explore
Sort by:
Sort by:
Gian
Tao Lin
‘I felt compelled to publish our potentially worrying, arguably unseemly texts, in which we discussed buying, selling, trading and using a broad assortment of illegal drugs’
Tao Lin on his friendship and correspondence with Giancarlo DiTrapano.
Keep Up
John Patrick McHugh
‘I deployed my body against an opponent like a blunt and effective instrument.’
John Patrick McHugh on playing Gaelic football.
Keep Up
Jonny Thakkar
‘Following United rarely brings me any great joy and most often it depresses me. If I could disengage, I would.’
Jonny Thakkar on Manchester United.
Keep Up
Saba Sams
‘I was not good at sports because I would not do sports because I did not have the body for sports because I would not do sports.’
Saba Sams on girlhood, embodiment and avoiding sports.
Keep Up
Mary Wellesley
‘An intense workout is an ecstasy of punishment packaged as self-improvement.’
Mary Wellesley on exercise, ritual and Barry’s Bootcamp.
Keep Up
Kevin Brazil
‘Feelings can be very obscure but numbers never lie.’
Kevin Brazil on metrics, obsession and fitness.
The Cage
Tong Wei-Ger
‘The islanders held him in a large dog cage under a banyan tree by the village square, awaiting the day when someone would convey him to a prison camp.’
Fiction by Tong Wei-Ger, translated by Tony Hao.
Just Girls
Sarah Perrin
‘When they repeated that word, “stalking”, it didn’t click. Because you can’t stalk your best friend.’
Fiction by Sarah Perrin.
Podcast | Nico Walker
Nico Walker
‘The military recruits around football – they try to pick up the surplus player population. You couldn't make it on the college team? Well, you know, this is kind of similar. Both are violent.’
Nico Walker on American football.
Interview | Thomas Ruff
Thomas Ruff & Alice Zoo
‘The camera records what’s in front of it, but that reality can be pre-arranged.’
Thomas Ruff speaks to Alice Zoo about light, Bernd and Hilla Becher and the essence of photography.
The Cottage
Isabelle Baafi
‘The scarlet stained my palm – / whether the blood of the berry or of the bird, / I couldn’t tell.’
A poem by Isabelle Baafi.
