Author Archive: Yuan(Amy) Zhao

A native of Shanghai, China, I major in English and minor in French. My writings on this site share my wonderings and wanderings. I search for neither poignancy nor profundity-- I focus on the simple, the lively, and the fun.

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Kinderszenen, Op. 1: I. Granny’s Garden

Kinderszenen, Op. 1: I. Granny’s Garden

| October 18, 2016 | 0 Comments

Granny’s garden is where I spent my childhood exploring and relaxing. It is my playground, my passion, my paradise.

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Autumn’s Vignettes

Autumn’s Vignettes

| October 23, 2015 | 0 Comments

Inspired by the music of Vivaldi, Mauriat, and Tchaikovsky.

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Common Ground Lost

Common Ground Lost

| October 15, 2015 | 1 Comment

They just didn’t want to join me, so what could I do?

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Puritan Death: the King’s Chapel Burying Ground

Puritan Death: the King’s Chapel Burying Ground

| September 21, 2015 | 0 Comments

If you happen to be around the area, go ahead and take a look– the King’s Chapel Burying Ground is a unique lens to read history.

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Thinking of Nepal

Thinking of Nepal

| April 27, 2015 | 1 Comment

But if you can dance with joy on a dark night without electricity, there’s nothing you can’t do. This earthquake can’t destroy you, for there’s always hope. You believe in hope, don’t you?

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The Road Taken

The Road Taken

| April 6, 2015 | 0 Comments

I held my cupola like a koala/and strode on, all the way singing la-la-la.

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Struttin’ Down Notting Hill

Struttin’ Down Notting Hill

| March 30, 2015 | 0 Comments

Looking around, I was moved by liveliness and life. I became even a bigger fan of markets, markets full of food, fun, and stories.

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A Beer to Galway

A Beer to Galway

| March 26, 2015 | 1 Comment

We had gotten connected somehow because we were at the same place, at the same time. And of course, because of the fact that we were all willing to share, open up, and make friends. It is the moment we share. It is the present. “It’s Galway.”

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Biking Down the Path

Biking Down the Path

| February 25, 2015 | 0 Comments

I guess I’m just reminiscing because it’s winter and I want spring; and because it’s Boston, I miss Barrington. It’s the wicked good ole days and the February blues.

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