Написано в третью субботу октября 2013 года
1948 или 1947 год. Моя бабушка в твоем возрасте, пройдя войну, потеряв отца, беременная дочкой Тамарой, которая скоро умрет. С тетей Аней на руках. Со светом и любовью на следующие 63 года и, через меня, после.
It all began when Bill went to Iraq. Bill was tall, young, smart, handsome, recently single, and down-to-earth – for a software engineer anyway. I don’t recall Bill ever going to those video game parties the other guys were so fond of.
At Karen’s ballroom dance class in College Park, a girl introduced herself to Bill: “My name is Honey. As something sweet.” Bill responded: Continue reading “The Beginning of Tango”
Last night, over the course of two hours, I faced three beautiful people in various stages of loss to me (newly declared and imminent, known for a while and imminent, complete), of various degrees of past closeness (a teacher, a tango friend, a lover). Continue reading “Three Losses and Dreams”
An Icebreaker speech for Panorama Toastmasters
People around us shape our lives more than we are willing to admit. This talk is about just three of the many who affected mine.
When I was little, I would spend summers with my grandma, in Vyborg, north of St. Petersburg, Russia. She would take me for long berry or mushroom foraging Continue reading “Connections”
I will take the pieces of my heart that used to be yours and give them away.
Your dimples will go to Seryozhka and your music Continue reading “Reclaiming”
Love letters understated 