“We come from a dark abyss,
we end in a dark abyss,
and we call the luminous interval – life.”
(“ASCENTISM” by Nikos Kazantzakis)
I was born in Madrid, Spain on a Sunday in 1977.
The Eagles, Blondie, Clapton, the Ramones and the Steve Miller Band were topping the music charts. Star Wars and Smokey & the Bandit were among the top grossing films of the year, while Woody Allen was polishing his brand spankin’ new Oscar for Annie Hall and Spielberg was wondering what to wear for the premiere of Close Encounters of a Third Kind. The world was still mourning Elvis, as Chaplin lay on his death bed, and Bukowski was sitting down to write his first great novel, Women. Back in Madrid, beside the cosmic event that was my birth, Real Madrid won 2-1 vs Real Sociedad, while the Yugoslavian national team beat Romania in Bucharest in the qualifications for the World Cup. All in all, it wasn’t a bad day and I’m glad I was there.
Less than a year later, my family moved to Lisbon, Portugal and they decided to take me with them. Go figure. Lisboa, menina e moça, as the old song goes. Lisbon was my cradle of life in many ways. This is where the full first act of the undeliniated play I call my life unfolded. The cobblestone streets were warm from the sun and the ocean breeze carried the appetizing scent of fresh cod prepared in a 1001 ways. Sangria, kamikazes, and great local beer was poured, as the sounds of fado resonated from one alley of the city and grunge, progressive rock, and post-punk from another. While I was busy growing up, the Berlin Wall tumbled, the Cold War ended, hair metal bands, action flicks, and top models seemed to rule the world, while MTV launched the first of their (scripted) reality shows, space shuttles exploded and new wars were started. Too painful to mention and far too many to list. Among the world’s treasures and soldiers lost in over a decade were John Belushi, Ayn Rand, John Huston, Andy Kaufman, Tennessee Williams, Marvin Gaye, Kurt Cobain and Ayrton Senna. They left us all wishing they had stuck around this great (not so) green earth just a little while longer. And I grew up.
I moved to Belgrade, Serbia in 1995. Ah, old Singidunum, the city of my ancestors. A city that is over 2000 years old and has risen from it’s ashes thirtyeight times. Thirtynine, if we count that little scrape back in 1999. I was there to see Singidunum rise from those ashes. And they brought new life. It was the end of a millennium and the beginning of an era.
My blood type is AB Rh+. My favorite beverages are coffee, beer, and water, in no particular order. I get along with children much better than I do with adults. I love to cook for a full house. I refuse to eat anything marked “skim”, “lite”, or “low-calorie”. I adore animals for their natural sense of self and their lack of fear to be what they are. I can communicate with over 50% of the world’s population in their native language. I firmly believe serial monogamy is natural to humans and I stick to it. Due to weak ligaments, a genetic thing, I can bend my limbs in unusual ways and my morals will sometimes do the same. I am what I am. I don’t pretend to know what that is. Oh, yeah – and I write a lot.
For the past several years, I could be described as a working, single mother. I could also be described as somewhat of an eccentric, with a hunger for knowledge and deep adoration of life and all that it brings us. In fact, I am nothing of the sort. I am just another roaming nomad, piecing together my eclectic collection of random events and calling them – fortunate.