If you Jacknicholson me, I might go all Eastwick on you but this has nothing to do with me having mastered The Craft. Well… it is a superpower, a blessing and a curse, but despite what some think it is not magic. Continue reading I am a witch
Sometimes, when I can’t sleep, I put on a nature documentary, preferably on marine life. There’s something about the sea that is smoothing and allows me to tune off. The other night, I found an episode on high seas I hadn’t seen. As I started it, the contradiction of my action hit me yet again: deep water scares me. By this I don’t mean I get a bit hesitant when it comes to swimming in open waters; as soon as my feet cannot touch the ground, terror runs through my veins. It floods my muscles and I feel them spams while I frantically swim. My mind spins out of control at the thought of something huge – most certainly a shark but why not a behemoth never before seen – grabbing me from the darkness below. Continue reading The Whale and The Shiny Little Thing Paradox
You know I’d rather trust my instincts. You know I look for goodness in people. You know that I do that with life.
You all know that and still I sometimes forget.
Continue reading La Vi got inked
I knew I was different as a child, I just could not place how. One day, I saw a documentary or read something about gifted children and thought “That’s it. I am a genius.” I fantasized somebody would recognize me as one and I would be put in a special school where I’d learn a lot and have friends (little 9-year-old me was pretty lonely and depressed, remember?). It did not happen. Continue reading La Vi is gifted
My speech is faster in French than in other languages. My words are hit on a tapan* in Macedonian, half-munched in Spanish, careful in Dutch and round in English. I only speak in metaphors in French, English or Spanish. I am direct in Dutch and Macedonian. My many languages give me so many identities… or am I giving my many languages an identity? Continue reading La Vi has many voices
– Maria is a writer.
All eyes were on me. Awe silenced the table and I quickly brushed it off:
– He’s exaggerating. I’m not a writer. I write. I’ve never been published. Continue reading I am a writer