Dominique's memoir, "Pretending is lying", happened to be on the shelves of the bookshop a couple of days ago. Vlad put it in my arms. I was feeling tired and worried and not-in-the-mood and I-don't-have-time-for-anything-right-now. But I opened it and then I couldn't leave without it.
„Alice (din Țara Minunilor) se plictisește lângă sora ei care citește, trage cu ochiul în cartea ei, dar pentru că nu vede imagini sau linii de dialog, se-ntreabă înainte s-adoarmă: ce rost are o carte fără poze sau dialoguri?”
It's been quite a while, but here they are: a new round of 5 favorite poems illustrated by 5 lovely local artists. Carina Davidoiu, Cristina Frei, Alina Marinescu, Alexandra Mocanu and Biliana Velikova received the poems via e-mail only a few days ago and sent them back to me as wonderful illustrations.
Zilele trecute, ca să-mi amintesc că sunt, totuși, un om destul de norocos pe această planetă, am primit cu împrumut cea mai frumoasă carte care s-a tipărit vreodată în România. Știu că de obicei exagerez cu entuziasmul și complimentele, dar de data asta nu.
La mulți ani, mamelor, să vă creșteți băieții buni de-adevăratelea, buni oricând și oriunde, nu doar la ocazii speciale sau de ochii lumii.
Physically, Heimat is a Cabinet of Wonder. A Wunderkammer. A collection of wonderful drawings, handwritten diary-like entries, old photos, postcards, official documents - all interlaced to give birth to a flawless visual performance.
5 poems I love recently landed in the magic-making hands of 5 local illustrators. Wanda, Dragoș, Anna, Andreea and Daia hosted the poems in their hearts for a week and now we're sending them into the world as delightful illustrations.
Prima greșeală pe care mi-o amintesc e una pe care-o tot repetam pe la 3-4 ani și tata încerca să...
For at least 1 year I've been having trouble sleeping. Some missed deadlines + broken promises + postponed dreams + deceived expectations seem to affect me more than all the other things I happily manage to cross off my relentless to-do list.
"Well, sir, there was an old woman up in her years whose only companion was a beautiful pear tree. It grew at the door to her cabin. But when the pears were ripe, the neighborhood boys came and taunted her and stole the fruit. They were driving her to the end of her wits.
O înjurătură preferată extrasă dintr-o postare despre găuri negre: “You count for less than nothing and nothing is preferable to...

Naftalina