A sense of magic

I was born in a year with heavy snowfall, that just happened to be the year of the Cernobil accident. I was barely two weeks old when I abandoned the cat I was sharing a bed with to start my first winter journey, crossing the Carpatians with my parents. I kept travelling all throughout my childhood on a parents-propelled wouden sledge. I am a nomad at heart, I kept traveling all throughout my life to a million places, in my room, with my eyes closed. I remember the first flying lesson I took, while holding my father’s right hand and my mother’s left hand, me lifting my legs from the ground and allowing the magic of imponderability to happen. I was a bridge between two people that loved each other.
I never really lost that sense of magic, although there were times in my life I had the impression I failed miserably. I had this impression the most when it came to love matters.
This winter I am leaving on a new journey and when I will come back, I will tell you a story.

click on the video to listen to the recording: