The Wheel Of Torture

blood red circular maze

Only my closest friends know that, for the past decade or so, I’ve been studying the Tarot. As part of my learning curve, at the beginning of each new year, I lay out a spread which tells me in detail how the months ahead will look, what energies will be at play, what to keep in mind in order to stick to a path of growth.

The spread I use consists of twelve cards laid out in a circle, counterclockwise, which symbolise the months of the year, and a thirteenth in the middle which tells about the general atmosphere, the common theme in the background of all other events.

This year, in the thirteenth position, I found the tenth card of the Great Arcana – The Wheel Of Fortune.tarot card wheel of fortune

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cut out dolls in home theater

April has been teary. There have been tears, small drops of salty moist, and there have been tears, slight rips in the structure of my emotional fabric. But also, there have been many rainy days. Lazy showers, thunderstorms, drizzles, hammering hail, and all other precipitation the sky can afford. Being stuck indoors with an electric Toddler displaying great appetite for turbo movement is not easy. Especially when it’s for days upon days and you’re too low to constantly come up with entertainment methods and time-killing techniques.

My beautiful child does not harbor much inclination for the fine arts. I gave him pencils and coloring books, he threw every single one of them down the stairs. I gave him play-dough, he rubbed it into the carpet so fervently I don’t think I will ever be able to get it out of its fibers. I gave him crayons, he ate them, I gave him chalks and a small blackboard, he crushed them into fine dust then rubbed it all over his mug. But then, by absolute accident, we discovered theater. Continue reading

Book, Interrupted

I have finally started bringing out of the garage some of the boxes with books I’ve not yet unpacked since our move to the new house four months ago. This past weekend, I found a bunch of special books which are close to my heart in a peculiar way. Their story is what you are about to read, I call them The Interrupted.

Like many other bookworms out there, it’s quite hard for me to read only one book at a time. Usually, I have an average of 3-4 titles in progress on my desk, bedside table, and toilet sink. Many of them, eventually, meet their destiny and get read till the end, but there is always a small percentage which remains stuck at some level and lingers for months and months in this halfway state between the unread and the finished until I get tired of seeing its cover catching dust, I force myself to make peace with the thought I will not see the end of this story any time soon, and I finally archive the title on The Interrupted Shelf.

Yes, I have an Interrupted Shelf. I also call it “The Limbo Shelf”, a name that wants to express empathy for their stuck and unfinished state of being. I have feelings and respect for my books, even those I will probably never read till the end. That’s why I would like to introduce to you nine of the most egregious Interrupted titles, celebrate them for a moment, before they slide back onto their shelf and deep into this reader’s oblivion.


1 * THE NEW YORK TRILOGY * Paul Auster

Interrupted when and where: sometime in 2009, on page 129 of 308. Reason for the Interruption: as the title suggests, this is a collection of three stories. I read the first two, City Of Glass and Ghosts, and stopped right before The Locked Room. Why? Although I am a big Continue reading

The Great 2015 HoROCKscope

I love the beginning of each New Year. It’s a shimmering time made of bubbles and shivers of blind hope. One of the things I love best about the New Year is the sudden deluge of all kinds of horoscopes appearing on the covers of everything.

I love to read horoscopes: traditional, Chinese, Celtic, of the Trees, of the Angels, Tibetan, whatever, doesn’t matter, I read them all, they are like pimped-up movie trailers for the months I’m about to live. It doesn’t matter if I forget about whatever prediction has been drafted for me immediately after I put down the magazine, I don’t have to know if the forecast will prove accurate or not. Reading horoscopes brings me an instant gratification completely devoid of consequences and I like that.

So this year, for all of you out there who have been reading this staggering blog of mine and have encouraged me to go on, I want to give my own version of this innocent moment of astrological oblivion, as a present. To achieve that, I prepared myself a huge pot of Raspberry-and-Peppermint tea, lit a red candle, pulled out my deck of Tarot cards (yes, I do own one – surprise?) and what came out of the combination of the above mentioned ingredients is:


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Today is an extraordinary day. Right when I was thinking only 4 people read this blog, out of the blue I found out I’ve been nominated for a Liebster Award!



I have to thank No Such Fairytale for having noticed and nominated me. If you will be looking for her, you’ll find her on Twitter @nosuchfairytale .

For those of you who do not know what receiving a Liebster Award means, I’ll explain:

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Opening Scene


It’s lunch-rush hour in the crowded cafe’: every table is taken, a frenzy of people holding their take-out sandwiches, paper cups, smoothies, eating while standing among clouds of steam hissing from the huge coffee-machine.

AUDIENCE, a dynamic-looking, multi-ethnic woman in her thirties sits on a high stool at the counter by the window. She is flipping through a newspaper, keeping en eye on the social media pages open on her tablet and smartphone.

The guy sitting next to her downs the rest of his Triple Espresso and takes off, leaving an empty spot. Immediately, someone else appears: a young boy, barely 18, a simple coffee on his tray.

BOY (to Audience): Excuse-me?

She looks up from her paper.

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