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Life stories

Camino de Santiago: Buen Camino

The Camino began for me not with a step, but with a storm. A rain so heavy it felt personal, as if the sky had reached its breaking point and simply… let go. Sheets of water poured over the hills, over the villages, over us. It wasn’t gentle cleansing, it was the universe emptying its pockets, rinsing the world of all the dust and leftover sins. Somewhere between laughing and shivering, I thought: If the Camino is a pilgrimage, this rain is my baptism.
By the time the clouds moved on, I swear my soul felt newly polished. Angels, really. That’s what we were. Or aspired to be. Read more

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Bookshelf no7

The Wisdom Hidden in Absurd Questions

I’ve always been fascinated by absurd questions, the kind that make people at dinner parties pause right in the middle of their fancy cabbage rolls and reconsider their life choices of inviting me.
Questions like: Why is an apple an apple? Who decided that an apple should be called an apple and not, say, a pear or, for some reason, a chimpanzee? Why not call apples “round pears” and pears “pointy apples” and be done with it? Most people laugh when I say things like that. But behind the humor lies something deeper, I’m sure: a quiet curiosity about how the world became what it is, and why we accept the things we accept without a second thought. Read more

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Life stories

A Dot Between Two Lines

Life is temporary. A dot between two black lines.

I’ve been sitting with this thought a lot lately. Not in an existential way, but in that quiet, grounding way that puts things into perspective. One day, we’re here. The next, we’re not. It’s always been this way for each and every one of us. A quiet blink in the cosmic eye. A sentence on the page of the universe. And while that might sound grim at first, to me, now, it’s oddly comforting. It means the pressure is off. I don’t have to be perfect. I just have to be present. To show up, take a breath, and if I’m lucky, make that dot shine a little brighter while it lasts.

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Cookerella

Roasted Fig Tart with Mascarpone Cream, Honey and Rosemary

A Little Love Letter to Figs

Let me tell you a little story about figs.

I always thought they were those prune-like, wrinkly things with delusions of grandeur—the kind of fruit you find in ancient myths, romantic poetry, or your great aunt’s enigmatic jam. But then… I made this tart. And now I’m convinced figs are the best thing that can happen to you.

This tart came to life on a sunny Friday afternoon when I should have been doing laundry. Instead, I decided to live my best pastry life.  And so I present to you: The Delicious Fig Tart. Buttery pastry. Luscious cheese cream. And a generous crown of figs that almost convinces you it’s healthy food. It’s simple, it’s sophisticated, and just showy enough to make you feel like the star of your own film.

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Bookshelf no7

Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close – Jonahan Safran Foer

A nine-year-old Oskar Schell steers New York City on a quest to find the secrets of a mysterious key and its connection to his father, who died in the collapse of the World Trade Center on 09/11.  Since his father’s death, Oskar struggles with insomnia, panic attacks, and depression. He often describes the feeling of depression as wearing heavy boots and deals with this by giving himself bruises. Read more

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Life stories

Modigliani’s Muse

Alcoholic. Addict. Womanizer. Amedeo Clemente Modigliani’s reputation is often reduced to these brutal labels — a tortured artist archetype neatly wrapped in scandal. He died at just 35 from tuberculous meningitis, poor and largely unrecognized, having held only a single exhibition in his lifetime. And yet today, his art sells for tens of millions, hanging in the world’s most prestigious galleries.

But behind the hollow myth of Modigliani, the reckless genius was a man shaped by contradictions — and by a powerful, all-consuming love. Read more

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