-
“La part de l’autre” by Eric-Emmanuel Schmitt
For me, books have been an especially satiating pleasure since my childhood. Thus I have a ritual for almost every birthday – I gift myself so many books I barely manage to take home. however, lately on several occasions I discovered that I didn’t feel the familiar wild enthusiasm for books and I am struggling to choose even one I want to by. Whether this is a function of information overload, my filter is getting narrower, the overwhelming abundance on the bookshelves rebuffs me from the onset… I don’t know… But I do know that when something truly amazing comes up, the delight is absolute. The Alternative Hypothesis is the…
-
“The Woman I Created”
I started reading Aneta Savova’s book on a sunny November Sunday, immediately after Women.Speak.Live Forum where I had bought it. With cup of hot coffee in my hand and background of fragrance of apple cake with cinnamon I had just put into the oven. From the first pages I was enveloped by a feeling of peacefulness and authenticity which (I know as a person who had been writing for years) comes when you express yourself in written words and share your personal story… The way we communicate today due to the constant rushing, the huge amounts of information for processing and discussing almost doesn’t allow us to go below the…
-
“The Year of Living Danishly”
I came across a presentation of Helen Russel a couple of years ago while I was browsing in youtube about the life in Scandinavia. She is a British journalist who moved for a year in Denmark after her husband received an offer at Lego. Thus her first book is born: The Year of Living Danishly. I have suspected for a long time that my husband a I have something Scandinavian (minimalism, aesthetics, love for a simple and modern design, respect of the aesthetics in the public environment too, which unfortunately is a lost cause in Bulgaria, instinctive attainment of the now popular hygga – the home-made coziness with several candles and…
-
“33 Artists in 3 Acts”
In my perception art is always divided in two main types: art which has aesthetic merit, is emotionally saturated and open-heartedly enjoyed by a large group of connoisseurs; and the other art which has a pretence for greatness and costs millions, because someone (an expert, to be sure) has whispered to some people with money that this is art and it is worthed to invest. I, personally, don’t have a problem with what one calls art and for how much they manage to sell it (every form of self-expression is art, and apparently it includes cows in formaldehyde, skulls with diamonds, crushed coca-cola cans, ceramic seeds amounting to the population…
