The Doppler Blog
Get to know Maia Miller-Lewis. She's performed in front of 600 people for the Guilty Feminist Podcast, she's been on BBC Introducing and she's also just ridiculously stylish. Most importantly however, her voice is absolutely stunning. It harks back to an earlier era, it's raw, genuine and gets you right in the gut. The only thing that matches it is her songwriting. Read
I’d say, I do it just for my own sake. I hate the idea of, in 20 years, looking back and thinking 'oh I haven’t really done anything uniquely mine'. It's just the idea of not having contributed to anything, even if no one actually listens to it or whatever. I like to evidence to myself that I’ve done more than just got a job, worked, etc…
Meet Sally. She’s the abstract artist that we all want to know. Why? Because she’s eclectic, fantastic and her anecdotes rival any other stories we’ve ever heard.
Read the interview to hear a story about art, travelling, and living life for today.
Depression can be isolating, for the person suffering but also for the people who are immediately around it. So this is what the poem is about - being able to see someone slip into unreachable states but not quite knowing what to do to help them out of it.
Have you ever stood on a bridge, with a 40 feet drop, and thought ‘what if I jumped?’. Maybe not. What about this though - you’re driving at 60 down a motorway and suddenly think, ‘I could just swerve this car right now’. No? Maybe it’s less severe than that. Maybe you’ve just been in a silent room and thought, hey, what if I suddenly shout ‘SHIT’ at the top of my voice.
‘There are two types of girls this Halloween’, my newsfeed reliably informs me. Curious, I delve further. Do tell me internet, knower of all things, what are these two types? Well, according to Facebook, one type is a girl who enjoys dressing as a slinky cat, and the other is a girl who enjoys dressing as a hotdog. I think this is meant to mean something? This polarised depiction of girls has an implicit sense of competition - so, who’s the winner?
You stumble into a kitchen at roughly 11 in the morning . Specifically, your kitchen after a night hosting pres. Bottles are strewn on the table, a few half empty cans are on every surface, polystyrene takeaway boxes flap open to present some half eaten cheesy chips. And you? Well let’s not mince words. You feel like crap.