
A toast
“He hated tomatoes back then.”
How trivial a sentence. How little does it say about you, a man of the Arts, someone with an actual body of work. Why does my memory reduce you to that? Continue reading A toast
“He hated tomatoes back then.”
How trivial a sentence. How little does it say about you, a man of the Arts, someone with an actual body of work. Why does my memory reduce you to that? Continue reading A toast
A story about my caring mailman. Continue reading Love comes back to you
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
I stepped into the coffee shop in a kind of daze. As I somehow managed to take my jacket off, my friend looked at me inquiringly.
– I just said ‘I love you’ for the first time. Continue reading La Vi says I love you