Truth and lies (*)
-Why are you here, Igor? -I don’t know. I saw many people together looking at the same spot and joined the group to find out what was so interesting, Alex.
Despite its troubles
-Why are you here, Igor? -I don’t know. I saw many people together looking at the same spot and joined the group to find out what was so interesting, Alex.
My four heads carefully cracked at exactly the same spot, crossing the face but leaving the expression untouched. Here they are. In front of me. Exactly as I made them.
I had to overcome many irrational fears during my life, some of them with a terrible story behind them, like my fear of elevators or my fear of bridges. But
My father was a poet and journalist. He suffered a lot during WWII. Almost all his friends and all his brothers died young during those horrible years. He was taken
My mom had a stroke and spent four years paralysed. I spent much time with her, trying to alleviate her suffering. It was exhausting and wonderful at the same time
During WWII, my dad was on a train when a communist guerrilla bombed the tracks. They killed many passengers and took the survivors as prisoners. My dad was an independent
I have a friend, a teacher at a Journalism school, who looks for great stories to show his pupils how to write. But in his searching, he stumbles with many
A handwritten note on my desk you gave me eight years ago for my birthday makes me feel you are still by my side. But you’re not here nor anywhere
A friend of mine has died. I just read about him in the news. We worked together for 26 years in my newspaper. He was a photographer. I was a