Rushing from Canada to Moscow to visit Dad in intensive care — unrecognizable after just a month. Hiding shock behind forced stupid jokes. The storyteller in a spacesuit trying to trick death. Collapsing into a stranger’s arms. The sterile air, skeletal hand, Mom’s silent vigil—none of it feels real. Only the guilt remains: fear of the body that used to be so alive.
A stopover in Istanbul, a walk along cobblestone streets, Turkish cats – heirs of great Constantinople, Dad’s guidance, Turkish coffee causing a terrible headache, humiliation of women, the injustice of the whole world — and it all ended at the police station.
Istanbul, Police Station and cobble streets Read Post »
A lady finally meets a psychiatrist who cuts through her misdiagnoses (Biporar? Borderline? ADHD?), she gets the shocking truth: she’s just a “banal creative hysteric”, just a dramatic creative soul. No pills, no disorders—just a hysteroid personality type, craving admiration and creation. Now she’s torn: relief or disappointment?What is the cost of this freedom?
Completely banal creative hysteric Read Post »
Disguised behind sunglasses and a Tilley hat, she lives as “Lesbian Brenda” – hiding from coworkers, motherhood, and expired documents. Her children prepare to fly alone to Moscow. One never to come back to Canada. She’s blocked her mother and her ex. It feels like living in a The Academy of Fools sketch – a clown released from the Cuckoo’s Nest.What is the cost of this freedom?
Brenda the Lesbian Blocks Her Loved Ones Read Post »