DOINA ZAVADSCHI

I was born on a cold winter day, one of those days when snow flakes forgot to stop falling. In my first years of life I drew breath with the kindliness and the love of my three mothers and the strictness and the trustworthiness of my three fathers. The small village of my first years allowed me to lush in the first rays of sun, to rush in burst of springtime rain, to built a tepee, castle for me, in my grandfather's garden, to listen the trees' fair tales or to be delighted by the taste of early strawberries. My best friends were an ashen dog and a tiger-cat, a family of very fluffy rabbits, a chicken who used to come on call and a cow with the most gentle eyes. [you can read more here]

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