Sydney Scanlon

Sydney is a considerate thinker who mulls over the metaphysics of existence while reading Waiting for Godot and loves dancing to the beat at the local drum circle. She is a political activist who volunteers at music festivals to register voters. She is a part-time gelato scooper who investigates the economic logistics that will facilitate building additions to a church of mostly illegal immigrants on Calle Ocho and also negotiates the morass of legalities necessary for the permits. She is a sibling of five who goes from volleyball practice, to soccer practice, to yoga, to a game of pick up with neighbors in the street. She believes that informed, moral choices with the greater good in mind can shape a promising future. She wants to be part of that future. She intends to whole heartedly dive into Indias' culture to begin to grasp its intricacies.

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a poem

India: a Poem The food is spicy as it clamors down my throat like flames licking their way up a pot of daal. The people are every shade of gods eyes; A field of flowers shashaying through the streets. The language is a jumble of…

01 June, 2018

An encrypted dialogue

  Picture meticulously hand building a life-sized Taj Mahal from common playing cards with minute detail then carefully shaping your lips into a perfectly round O and releasing a soft, though exact breath into the foundations of the masterpiece causing the intricate structure to topple from…

03 February, 2018

My first bad day

I told my mother a few days before my departure to India how my timeline for the next 8 months would look. I go with the flow, but when it comes to my emotions, I have always been a diligent planner. Given that my mood…

28 November, 2017

Diwali, the festive experience.

30 October, 2017

Gossip: an appeal for reappraisal

    Gossip has been given its nefarious reputation by men jealous of the human discussion they so poorly execute. Testosterone dominated individuals have never been as good at letting things go, periods attest to that. There is something about women and gossip that so…

15 October, 2017

The Rich Love of India

It had been 22 hours of traveling, three different flights, four different sleeping pills through 12 different time zones. I was a little dazed to say the least. As I walked out of the plane and followed the signs to the exit all alone, I…

02 October, 2017

sydney scanlon

I stand here as a daughter Young, ripe, and sweet as clementines’ Dripping sticky down your hand   I am a sister Calloused as the camels’ back Grown rough to pinches, teases, and taunts   A lover Sometimes lapping lightly up the shoreline And other…

09 September, 2017

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Sydney Scanlon