The Season of Vytsotsky
Arriving with a smell of vodka, a haze of cigarette smoke, and the haunting voice of a man, piercing the air with raw, unbridled passion.
Experience and content strategist by profession. Philologist and translator by education. Thespian and an avid book reader by genetic predisposition. Inspired mom. Her international portfolio encompasses experience as a radio journalist, media liaison, and press center director in Bulgaria, alongside roles as a language instructor for Polish and Bulgarian, an adjunct professor of Russian, and a chief creative director of a leading edutainment theme park for children in the United States. Loves irony as a means to counter the gravity of the world and oneself. Prefers coffee over tea, good poetry over prose, and binge movie-watching over anything else. Highly intolerant to academic and literary snobbery, small talk, and the tyranny of ignorance. Born on the same day and year as her favorite movie All That Jazz! (a fact she only recently discovered).
Arriving with a smell of vodka, a haze of cigarette smoke, and the haunting voice of a man, piercing the air with raw, unbridled passion.
Black, while frequently disregarded as a mere shade, boasts a symbolism as intricate as that of any color, rivaling only the multifaceted blue.
It was, so to speak, the end of an era
A rumination on Remarque’s lasting legacy on the power of finding happiness in the midst of hardship and an ever-changing landscape.
Red is a primal color that speaks to our collective consciousness and seizes our attention like no other.
"In Summer, You’re a Soul; In the Autumn, You Return to Your Human Body"
This isn't the beginning of a film...
"Rossini Bequested Music in my Blood”
"Neither Literature, Nor Theatre Could Exist Without Imagination"
"One Cannot Love the Unknown"