tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-74097998001862622812024-02-20T17:19:24.670-08:00Ksenia RychtyckaIt's All About The JourneyKsenia Rychtyckahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16530042808165096336noreply@blogger.comBlogger12125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7409799800186262281.post-35034236350671316162022-12-06T17:49:00.015-08:002022-12-13T13:46:58.065-08:00Celebrating Luba Panchenko<p>My short story <i>Bucha Spring</i> was recently published in <i>Fusion Magazine</i> and I’m grateful for this opportunity to spotlight an amazing Ukrainian artist who sadly is no longer with us but whose brave spirit and artworks will be celebrated and passed on to future generations. </p><p>Like so many of us, I am thinking of Ukraine and its people as they courageously battle for their right to live as they choose in an independent Ukraine. There are so many stories that are and will be written about this brutal war, but Luba Panchenko’s legacy needs to be shared and celebrated. I came across her name in a short post on social media last spring and the more I learned, the more taken I was with her life story and incredible artwork. </p><p>Sharing my Author’s Note below and the link to my short story: <a href="https://www.fusionmagazine.org/bucha-spring/" target="_blank">https://www.fusionmagazine.org/bucha-spring/</a></p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIxBWhfS6Fb6TDLorMidNQl42PzP4mYoyeJG-ALDLiZuENHyGqXdSWe-XJ8dciVKXUCyjE0WHeo7xcb_pvicykPNePPh82w6exMqA1eXgZW6W47nn9mxHI_iV7zt07pg3Ciy_lOViNM97ssZjarelhAkICp7OD5ZeC19Zm4_pOaxJCZzjetm1xtcfEnQ/s978/Screen%20Shot%202022-06-29%20at%207.44.37%20PM.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="978" data-original-width="902" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIxBWhfS6Fb6TDLorMidNQl42PzP4mYoyeJG-ALDLiZuENHyGqXdSWe-XJ8dciVKXUCyjE0WHeo7xcb_pvicykPNePPh82w6exMqA1eXgZW6W47nn9mxHI_iV7zt07pg3Ciy_lOViNM97ssZjarelhAkICp7OD5ZeC19Zm4_pOaxJCZzjetm1xtcfEnQ/w369-h400/Screen%20Shot%202022-06-29%20at%207.44.37%20PM.png" width="369" /></a><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(64, 64, 64); color: #404040; font-family: "Source Sans Pro"; font-size: 12px; text-align: left;"> </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgb(64, 64, 64); color: #404040; font-family: "Source Sans Pro"; font-size: 12px; font-style: italic; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: left; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgb(64, 64, 64); color: #404040; font-family: "Source Sans Pro"; font-size: 12px; font-style: italic; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: left; vertical-align: baseline;">Bucha Spring</span><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(64, 64, 64); color: #404040; font-family: "Source Sans Pro"; font-size: 12px; text-align: left;">, 1994. Pencil, watercolor, paper. Source: </span><span style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgb(64, 64, 64); color: #404040; font-family: "Source Sans Pro"; font-size: 12px; font-style: italic; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: left; vertical-align: baseline;">Liubov Panchenko — Recovery Art Album</span><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(64, 64, 64); color: #404040; font-family: "Source Sans Pro"; font-size: 12px; text-align: left;">. Publisher: Oleksandr Savchuk, 2021.</span></div><br /><p>My Author's Note on <i>Bucha Spring</i>:</p><p><br /></p><p>This fictionalized short story is dedicated to the memory of Ukrainian artist and designer Liubov (Luba) Panchenko, who endured a month of isolation and starvation in her basement while her hometown of Bucha was under brutal Russian occupation. She survived the occupation, but died on April 30, 2022, when her heart gave out. During the Soviet era, her artwork was censored due to its focus on Ukrainian symbolism and folk culture. She was not allowed to exhibit or publish her work. She was a member of the Ukrainian Sixtiers dissident movement, that advocated for freedom of cultural and creative expression. </p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMUKGN6eH_vCWJ9JdBCyvcXGwjSzOt0k5uEq09_ylks3o_s2lRhIOHJdpmG30rkeJ9SrQqbIR9tcTpZkLeKxze4x8NP9IXJQJuh5i2ZL5LwKNx7KLK69bThn1zrh-nJTOSF-M87lLGZKIqG5EYk8vUXjbUMFJVMqS0Uwl8YyUcjPlInyuC7yLEeYxgCA/s488/CD76151A-24D4-45D4-BAB3-D160F2F1218F_4_5005_c.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="488" data-original-width="300" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMUKGN6eH_vCWJ9JdBCyvcXGwjSzOt0k5uEq09_ylks3o_s2lRhIOHJdpmG30rkeJ9SrQqbIR9tcTpZkLeKxze4x8NP9IXJQJuh5i2ZL5LwKNx7KLK69bThn1zrh-nJTOSF-M87lLGZKIqG5EYk8vUXjbUMFJVMqS0Uwl8YyUcjPlInyuC7yLEeYxgCA/w246-h400/CD76151A-24D4-45D4-BAB3-D160F2F1218F_4_5005_c.jpeg" width="246" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">In her earlier days, Luba Panchenko loved to wear her hair in one long braid.</div><br /><p>While researching Luba's story, I came across some excellent sources for those interested in learning more about her life and creative output. She was a rebel and she defied her family to pursue her passion as an artist. She credited her grandfather and mother for instilling in her a deep love for Ukraine. During the 1960s, many of her fellow dissident friends would gather at her house to sing Ukrainian Christmas carols, fundraise to help other dissidents in need and plan Ukrainian cultural and literary events. This was dangerous during the Soviet era and many of her friends were exiled, arrested and some like the artist Alla Horska, were killed. </p><p>Here's a nice piece about Luba Panchenko in <i>Daily Art Magazine</i>: <a href="https://www.dailyartmagazine.com/lyubov-panchenko/" target="_blank">https://www.dailyartmagazine.com/lyubov-panchenko/</a></p><p>And for my Ukrainian-speaking readers, a short article in Ukrainian: <a href="https://gazeta.ua/articles/ukraine-newspaper/_lyubov-panchenko-misyac-goloduvala/1091644" target="_blank">https://gazeta.ua/articles/ukraine-newspaper/_lyubov-panchenko-misyac-goloduvala/1091644</a></p><p>While writing my story, it was important for me to try to imagine her perspective as much as possible and I was thrilled when I found a video where I heard her speak about her artworks! What a gift! And check out her incredible fashion designs: </p><p><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tz-4ULkVlLk" target="_blank">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tz-4ULkVlLk</a><br /></p><p>A few more of her artworks: </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF5ZP0qzRwDRZWGJv8St1EuSAmR5xsXmI57pxUBNnX2c7zUC4JbCPqVJTKok9rdMrEYo1p9fCcFEz3WeUlQiKm_A_tBqB7TqYbwkCncmIO5y1Fo5oDe5LxKKEr0UpD9GH0VZ3sqe_-GucKIFdRTHujDYRnYw8jB8WKldcO1eG6mYjkntx2I9op-FjEMg/s1500/lyubov-panchenko-ukraine-artist-red-viburnum.jpeg.webp" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="917" data-original-width="1500" height="245" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF5ZP0qzRwDRZWGJv8St1EuSAmR5xsXmI57pxUBNnX2c7zUC4JbCPqVJTKok9rdMrEYo1p9fCcFEz3WeUlQiKm_A_tBqB7TqYbwkCncmIO5y1Fo5oDe5LxKKEr0UpD9GH0VZ3sqe_-GucKIFdRTHujDYRnYw8jB8WKldcO1eG6mYjkntx2I9op-FjEMg/w400-h245/lyubov-panchenko-ukraine-artist-red-viburnum.jpeg.webp" width="400" /></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both; 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margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="591" data-original-width="1024" height="231" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXzHUkEbyLzcNLChE9EeY6-cbfgRn30iIc6e8HB1jw0ta-QUhnhEiszRvXQNOokAW92WSlivQJSCvqX31shHnbDCV5ceFKxvN3PMi1y0oPvVY-t94qs6wH8Zefuiibvgq5E-TlGVyoN8ns8vgz1XDI850gg1X3vt7qSTd0X_FZ6iSPtbBe7Bs2S3YJJg/w400-h231/lyubov-panchenko-ukraine-artist-mothers-fairy-tale-1024x591.jpeg.webp" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx4OfAK4boGJe4GIKMpYze5Zoi7zLMEB9pd44iHYLVEY_IaQrqf4iINmVe6ILqf_WdicCzXyp7SxerzWuihgnk6jUbsG93tig-8NS4JitArfgDBR5Qg3A5BN8qmLed5YHcmpxxr0q8jFliyEhWEm-6UfwPPuMiWv5CaVc-_RdhSMC723NcwHjuavG9Cw/s526/311455228_10159101448441732_494465168426466051_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="426" data-original-width="526" height="324" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx4OfAK4boGJe4GIKMpYze5Zoi7zLMEB9pd44iHYLVEY_IaQrqf4iINmVe6ILqf_WdicCzXyp7SxerzWuihgnk6jUbsG93tig-8NS4JitArfgDBR5Qg3A5BN8qmLed5YHcmpxxr0q8jFliyEhWEm-6UfwPPuMiWv5CaVc-_RdhSMC723NcwHjuavG9Cw/w400-h324/311455228_10159101448441732_494465168426466051_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPKQ6yDgaC_0HG7Jm4Ajzc_T-WYk4wH1Nz3POvjAattjHtF5LdkOl9Mg-JYxPqg1Q99XpKsuWQG_KNo9SgbTwR3310Ep2tOMny-lSGroayvQ-5ScJ9MmuZLrJgZjCFCwwIKlraGU0IQEGxNI3OZp_iS5ckiYJ_2xFsgepVwD2dRKZYPTUwe8Wzc1W3zw/s1481/A47EFB57-540F-40C7-9CCB-F26945500493.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="839" data-original-width="1481" height="226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPKQ6yDgaC_0HG7Jm4Ajzc_T-WYk4wH1Nz3POvjAattjHtF5LdkOl9Mg-JYxPqg1Q99XpKsuWQG_KNo9SgbTwR3310Ep2tOMny-lSGroayvQ-5ScJ9MmuZLrJgZjCFCwwIKlraGU0IQEGxNI3OZp_iS5ckiYJ_2xFsgepVwD2dRKZYPTUwe8Wzc1W3zw/w400-h226/A47EFB57-540F-40C7-9CCB-F26945500493.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><p><br /></p>Although there is no published hardcover book about Luba Panchenko at present, there is a wonderful digital book that the publisher hopes to publish in hard copy when possible. It is available in a PDF so if anyone is interested, please let me know in the comments and I will email it.<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwvHuOC4gudXv1nYp1XiyVAQC2dYV-fRzxXS9QIpWU8wLDrGhZv6LZgiSmdAwoblvX8UNxekCLF6tp4kaZD8ZjDmtWo8mGO0IHrSz1-B4yGlD9aIM36s73q2u5rNqhULN8GsaMLiwc8R0ikpDMRj6-Gx564nHQetAT8B7XCksd8tWPoYHHeFTgFXkZjg/s2880/Screen%20Shot%202022-12-10%20at%206.29.58%20PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1800" data-original-width="2880" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwvHuOC4gudXv1nYp1XiyVAQC2dYV-fRzxXS9QIpWU8wLDrGhZv6LZgiSmdAwoblvX8UNxekCLF6tp4kaZD8ZjDmtWo8mGO0IHrSz1-B4yGlD9aIM36s73q2u5rNqhULN8GsaMLiwc8R0ikpDMRj6-Gx564nHQetAT8B7XCksd8tWPoYHHeFTgFXkZjg/w400-h250/Screen%20Shot%202022-12-10%20at%206.29.58%20PM.png" width="400" /></a></div><br />Ksenia Rychtyckahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16530042808165096336noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7409799800186262281.post-1321222660197296092022-12-02T15:06:00.000-08:002022-12-09T15:18:51.116-08:00Book Review by Nicole Yurcaba: "On Ksenia Rychtycka's A Sky Full of Wings" as published in The Seneca Review<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1l6UVuFfg8qtQfgpqDQGpHcxJlhsJDStDimSbmIhm-jSob2GV2ns3f2eI49Ng-ESyvl76AN0XImjqMmg_OYyJwAjPcC5e3ApAQEHPa8hruitWRjAAMklcOnZgBtOmR9PRGOVtvNfFeBofFFCopXhkFour5U6ehLciS8ZNGeYiXBlCy04f3DXqezvJLA/s2447/P001.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2447" data-original-width="1490" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1l6UVuFfg8qtQfgpqDQGpHcxJlhsJDStDimSbmIhm-jSob2GV2ns3f2eI49Ng-ESyvl76AN0XImjqMmg_OYyJwAjPcC5e3ApAQEHPa8hruitWRjAAMklcOnZgBtOmR9PRGOVtvNfFeBofFFCopXhkFour5U6ehLciS8ZNGeYiXBlCy04f3DXqezvJLA/s320/P001.jpg" width="195" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeRrivDD6sXvUBmnVZ-r7jeHiUSI2BPzGZrNkCSh0NwzTy0TKJ8NFG4zMxY0Pv21CIA6bY5DH32JQwF-OBVXzH_bg37r2U2UeJkrYjgjdzIDvOOgqXjAiGAnobdZfbCmaV4RuX8bolc3KcDKfYnpxBxJ3f1IZkPmY7iendbX3B-Ly2HjiC2T6QVCfrqQ/s2439/P002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; 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margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="712" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb_mqZ2Nq_qhiinSneRIYD81V1IpBkUyt-JTxauDBZ6nriF5BX3cEzN5An4_T9pLXHQ54zZaQnxXFyVvAXcgISCabVkBmsGVlctRSw24UHT61fONl0kY2D_ktp8v1C-ZKRI3TvwEL_iA9KbfpYmaP---28XEuZnUA2N9FbnT_fm5aQmEcjZk66F5JP0w/w534-h712/A7F996E1-FE16-4B13-9A23-CA9B7883938E.heic" width="534" /></a></div><br /> <p></p>Ksenia Rychtyckahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16530042808165096336noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7409799800186262281.post-8759018099115310482022-06-13T06:16:00.020-07:002022-06-13T07:10:35.932-07:00Backstory of the Poem "Why Honey Matters"<p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Big thanks to Christal Cooper for featuring me on her website! </span></p><p><a href="http://chrisricecooper.com/373-backstory-of-the-poem-why-honey-matters-from-her-poetry-collection-a-sky-full-of-wings-by-ksenia-rychtycka/"><span style="font-size: medium;">http://chrisricecooper.com/373-backstory-of-the-poem-why-honey-matters-from-her-poetry-collection-a-sky-full-of-wings-by-ksenia-rychtycka/</span></a></p><p><span style="color: var(--entry-header--color); font-family: var(--heading--font-family); letter-spacing: var(--heading--letter-spacing-h2);"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>#373 Backstory of the Poem “Why Honey Matters” from her poetry collection A Sky Full Of Wings by Ksenia Rychtycka</b></span></span></p><p><span style="color: var(--entry-header--color); font-family: var(--heading--font-family); font-size: var(--global--font-size-page-title); letter-spacing: var(--heading--letter-spacing-h2);"><br /></span></p><div class="entry-content" style="box-sizing: inherit; margin: var(--global--spacing-vertical) auto; max-width: none;"><figure class="wp-block-image size-large" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: var(--entry-content--font-family); margin: 0px auto var(--global--spacing-vertical); max-width: var(--responsive--aligndefault-width); padding: 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" class="wp-image-8032 jetpack-lazy-image jetpack-lazy-image--handled" data-lazy-loaded="1" data-recalc-dims="1" height="282" loading="eager" sizes="(max-width: 750px) 100vw, 750px" src="https://i0.wp.com/chrisricecooper.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/06/001-title-1-2.jpg?resize=750%2C282" srcset="https://i0.wp.com/chrisricecooper.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/06/001-title-1-2-scaled.jpg?resize=1024%2C385 1024w, https://i0.wp.com/chrisricecooper.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/06/001-title-1-2-scaled.jpg?resize=300%2C113 300w, https://i0.wp.com/chrisricecooper.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/06/001-title-1-2-scaled.jpg?resize=768%2C289 768w, https://i0.wp.com/chrisricecooper.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/06/001-title-1-2-scaled.jpg?resize=1536%2C577 1536w, https://i0.wp.com/chrisricecooper.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/06/001-title-1-2-scaled.jpg?resize=2048%2C770 2048w, https://i0.wp.com/chrisricecooper.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/06/001-title-1-2-scaled.jpg?resize=1568%2C590 1568w, https://i0.wp.com/chrisricecooper.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/06/001-title-1-2-scaled.jpg?w=2250 2250w" style="border-bottom-left-radius: inherit; border-bottom-right-radius: inherit; border-style: none; border-top-left-radius: inherit; border-top-right-radius: inherit; box-sizing: inherit; height: auto; max-width: 100%; vertical-align: middle;" width="750" /><figcaption style="box-sizing: inherit; color: var(--global--color-primary); font-size: var(--global--font-size-xs); line-height: var(--global--line-height-body); margin-bottom: var(--global--spacing-unit); margin-top: calc(0.5 * var(--global--spacing-unit)); max-width: var(--global--spacing-measure);">MIDDLE: Ksenia Rychtycka on the Potemkin steps in Odesa, Ukraine. 1990. Copyright by Ksenia Rychtycka </figcaption><figcaption style="box-sizing: inherit; color: var(--global--color-primary); font-size: var(--global--font-size-xs); line-height: var(--global--line-height-body); margin-bottom: var(--global--spacing-unit); margin-top: calc(0.5 * var(--global--spacing-unit)); max-width: var(--global--spacing-measure);"><br /></figcaption><figcaption style="box-sizing: inherit; color: var(--global--color-primary); font-size: var(--global--font-size-xs); line-height: var(--global--line-height-body); margin-bottom: var(--global--spacing-unit); margin-top: calc(0.5 * var(--global--spacing-unit)); max-width: var(--global--spacing-measure);"><br /></figcaption></figure><p style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: var(--entry-content--font-family); line-height: var(--wp--typography--line-height, var(--global--line-height-body)); margin: var(--global--spacing-vertical) auto; max-width: var(--responsive--aligndefault-width); padding: 0px; text-align: justify; word-wrap: break-word;"><span style="box-sizing: inherit; font-weight: 700; max-width: var(--global--spacing-measure);"><span style="font-size: medium;">Can you go through the step-by-step process of writing this poem from the moment the idea was first conceived in your brain until final form? </span></span></p><p style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: var(--entry-content--font-family); line-height: var(--wp--typography--line-height, var(--global--line-height-body)); margin: var(--global--spacing-vertical) auto; max-width: var(--responsive--aligndefault-width); padding: 0px; text-align: justify; word-wrap: break-word;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: var(--entry-content--font-family); line-height: var(--wp--typography--line-height, var(--global--line-height-body)); margin: var(--global--spacing-vertical) auto; max-width: var(--responsive--aligndefault-width); padding: 0px; text-align: justify; word-wrap: break-word;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Why Honey Matters” first came to mind after an odd experience I had about 18 months after the death of my mother. It was shortly before Christmas, and I was alone in the kitchen preparing to make honey cake for the holidays. I had all my ingredients out and mixing bowls and was just getting started. All of a sudden, I sensed my mother’s presence near me – so much so that I actually spoke aloud, telling her that I knew she was next to me. It was an emotional moment as my mother loved my honey cake and was always so happy when I would bake traditional Ukrainian dishes. At the same time, it was comforting to sense her presence and made me very happy. From this, the poem evolved into three sections about how honey has played an important role in my family history.</span></p><p style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: var(--entry-content--font-family); line-height: var(--wp--typography--line-height, var(--global--line-height-body)); margin: var(--global--spacing-vertical) auto; max-width: var(--responsive--aligndefault-width); padding: 0px; word-wrap: break-word;"><br /></p><p style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: var(--entry-content--font-family); line-height: var(--wp--typography--line-height, var(--global--line-height-body)); margin: var(--global--spacing-vertical) auto; max-width: var(--responsive--aligndefault-width); padding: 0px; word-wrap: break-word;"><br /></p><figure class="wp-block-image size-large" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: var(--entry-content--font-family); margin: var(--global--spacing-vertical) auto; max-width: var(--responsive--aligndefault-width); padding: 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" class="wp-image-8034 jetpack-lazy-image jetpack-lazy-image--handled" data-lazy-loaded="1" data-recalc-dims="1" height="530" loading="eager" sizes="(max-width: 750px) 100vw, 750px" src="https://i0.wp.com/chrisricecooper.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/06/002a.-D-and-M-at-Ukraine-airport-poet-first-visit-.jpg?resize=750%2C530" srcset="https://i0.wp.com/chrisricecooper.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/06/002a.-D-and-M-at-Ukraine-airport-poet-first-visit-.jpg?resize=1024%2C723 1024w, https://i0.wp.com/chrisricecooper.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/06/002a.-D-and-M-at-Ukraine-airport-poet-first-visit-.jpg?resize=300%2C212 300w, https://i0.wp.com/chrisricecooper.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/06/002a.-D-and-M-at-Ukraine-airport-poet-first-visit-.jpg?resize=768%2C542 768w, https://i0.wp.com/chrisricecooper.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/06/002a.-D-and-M-at-Ukraine-airport-poet-first-visit-.jpg?w=1436 1436w" style="border-bottom-left-radius: inherit; border-bottom-right-radius: inherit; border-style: none; border-top-left-radius: inherit; border-top-right-radius: inherit; box-sizing: inherit; height: auto; max-width: 100%; vertical-align: middle;" width="750" /><figcaption style="box-sizing: inherit; color: var(--global--color-primary); font-size: var(--global--font-size-xs); line-height: var(--global--line-height-body); margin-bottom: var(--global--spacing-unit); margin-top: calc(0.5 * var(--global--spacing-unit)); max-width: var(--global--spacing-measure);">Ksenia Rychtycka and her mother at the Ukraine airport for their first visit to Ukraine. Copyright by </figcaption><figcaption style="box-sizing: inherit; color: var(--global--color-primary); font-size: var(--global--font-size-xs); line-height: var(--global--line-height-body); margin-bottom: var(--global--spacing-unit); margin-top: calc(0.5 * var(--global--spacing-unit)); max-width: var(--global--spacing-measure);">Ksenia Rychtycka. </figcaption><figcaption style="box-sizing: inherit; color: var(--global--color-primary); font-size: var(--global--font-size-xs); line-height: var(--global--line-height-body); margin-bottom: var(--global--spacing-unit); margin-top: calc(0.5 * var(--global--spacing-unit)); max-width: var(--global--spacing-measure);"><br /></figcaption><figcaption style="box-sizing: inherit; color: var(--global--color-primary); font-size: var(--global--font-size-xs); line-height: var(--global--line-height-body); margin-bottom: var(--global--spacing-unit); margin-top: calc(0.5 * var(--global--spacing-unit)); max-width: var(--global--spacing-measure);"><br /></figcaption></figure><figure class="wp-block-image size-large" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: var(--entry-content--font-family); margin: var(--global--spacing-vertical) auto; max-width: var(--responsive--aligndefault-width); padding: 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" class="wp-image-8037 jetpack-lazy-image jetpack-lazy-image--handled" data-lazy-loaded="1" data-recalc-dims="1" height="563" loading="eager" sizes="(max-width: 750px) 100vw, 750px" src="https://i0.wp.com/chrisricecooper.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/06/002b.jpeg?resize=750%2C563" srcset="https://i0.wp.com/chrisricecooper.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/06/002b.jpeg?resize=1024%2C768 1024w, https://i0.wp.com/chrisricecooper.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/06/002b.jpeg?resize=300%2C225 300w, https://i0.wp.com/chrisricecooper.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/06/002b.jpeg?resize=768%2C576 768w, https://i0.wp.com/chrisricecooper.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/06/002b.jpeg?resize=1536%2C1152 1536w, https://i0.wp.com/chrisricecooper.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/06/002b.jpeg?resize=1568%2C1176 1568w, https://i0.wp.com/chrisricecooper.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/06/002b.jpeg?w=2048 2048w" style="border-bottom-left-radius: inherit; border-bottom-right-radius: inherit; border-style: none; border-top-left-radius: inherit; border-top-right-radius: inherit; box-sizing: inherit; height: auto; max-width: 100%; vertical-align: middle;" width="750" /><figcaption style="box-sizing: inherit; color: var(--global--color-primary); font-size: var(--global--font-size-xs); line-height: var(--global--line-height-body); margin-bottom: var(--global--spacing-unit); margin-top: calc(0.5 * var(--global--spacing-unit)); max-width: var(--global--spacing-measure);">Credit and Copyright by Ksenia Rychtycka. </figcaption></figure><figure class="wp-block-image size-full" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: inherit; margin: var(--global--spacing-vertical) auto; max-width: var(--responsive--aligndefault-width); padding: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: var(--entry-content--font-family);"><span style="border-bottom-left-radius: inherit; border-bottom-right-radius: inherit; border-top-left-radius: inherit; border-top-right-radius: inherit; box-sizing: inherit; height: auto; max-width: 100%; vertical-align: middle;"><img alt="" class="wp-image-8039 jetpack-lazy-image jetpack-lazy-image--handled" data-lazy-loaded="1" data-recalc-dims="1" height="792" loading="eager" sizes="(max-width: 612px) 100vw, 612px" src="https://i0.wp.com/chrisricecooper.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/06/002c-Ukrainian-Honey-Cake-Recipe-copy.jpg?resize=612%2C792" srcset="https://i0.wp.com/chrisricecooper.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/06/002c-Ukrainian-Honey-Cake-Recipe-copy.jpg?w=612 612w, https://i0.wp.com/chrisricecooper.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/06/002c-Ukrainian-Honey-Cake-Recipe-copy.jpg?resize=232%2C300 232w" style="border-bottom-left-radius: inherit; border-bottom-right-radius: inherit; border-style: none; border-top-left-radius: inherit; border-top-right-radius: inherit; box-sizing: inherit; height: auto; max-width: 100%; vertical-align: middle;" width="612" /></span></span><p style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: var(--entry-content--font-family); line-height: var(--wp--typography--line-height, var(--global--line-height-body)); margin: var(--global--spacing-vertical) auto; max-width: var(--responsive--aligndefault-width); padding: 0px; word-wrap: break-word;"><span style="box-sizing: inherit; font-weight: 700; max-width: var(--global--spacing-measure);"><br /></span></p><p style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: var(--entry-content--font-family); line-height: var(--wp--typography--line-height, var(--global--line-height-body)); margin: var(--global--spacing-vertical) auto; max-width: var(--responsive--aligndefault-width); padding: 0px; word-wrap: break-word;"><span style="font-family: var(--entry-content--font-family); font-weight: 700;"><br /></span></p><p style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: var(--entry-content--font-family); line-height: var(--wp--typography--line-height, var(--global--line-height-body)); margin: var(--global--spacing-vertical) auto; max-width: var(--responsive--aligndefault-width); padding: 0px; word-wrap: break-word;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: var(--entry-content--font-family); font-weight: 700;">Where were you when you started to actually write the poem? And please describe the place in great detail.</span><span style="font-family: var(--entry-content--font-family); font-weight: 700;"> </span></span></p><p style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: var(--entry-content--font-family); line-height: var(--wp--typography--line-height, var(--global--line-height-body)); margin: var(--global--spacing-vertical) auto; max-width: var(--responsive--aligndefault-width); padding: 0px; word-wrap: break-word;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: var(--entry-content--font-family); line-height: var(--wp--typography--line-height, var(--global--line-height-body)); margin: var(--global--spacing-vertical) auto; max-width: var(--responsive--aligndefault-width); padding: 0px; text-align: justify; word-wrap: break-word;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I typically write at home, downstairs in a cozy finished basement office where the walls are filled with my daughter’s artworks. There is also a colorful Ukrainian kilim hanging on the wall. That kilim is special to me as my aunt bought it for me when I was living in Ukraine and was made by Hutsul artisans in the Carpathian region where some of my family roots lie. Hutsuls are an ethnographic Ukrainian group that live in the high regions of the Carpathian mountains in western Ukraine. They are known for using bright colors in their clothing and weaving, and their Easter eggs called <span style="box-sizing: inherit; font-style: italic; max-width: var(--global--spacing-measure);">pysanky</span> are vibrant with green, yellow and red colors and sometimes blue highlights.</span></p><p style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: var(--entry-content--font-family); line-height: var(--wp--typography--line-height, var(--global--line-height-body)); margin: var(--global--spacing-vertical) auto; max-width: var(--responsive--aligndefault-width); padding: 0px; word-wrap: break-word;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: var(--entry-content--font-family); line-height: var(--wp--typography--line-height, var(--global--line-height-body)); margin: var(--global--spacing-vertical) auto; max-width: var(--responsive--aligndefault-width); padding: 0px; word-wrap: break-word;"><br /></p><figure class="wp-block-image size-large" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: var(--entry-content--font-family); margin: var(--global--spacing-vertical) auto; max-width: var(--responsive--aligndefault-width); padding: 0px;"><img alt="" class="wp-image-8041 jetpack-lazy-image jetpack-lazy-image--handled" data-lazy-loaded="1" data-recalc-dims="1" height="563" loading="eager" sizes="(max-width: 750px) 100vw, 750px" src="https://i0.wp.com/chrisricecooper.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/06/003.-Photo5_Officecorner.jpeg?resize=750%2C563" srcset="https://i0.wp.com/chrisricecooper.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/06/003.-Photo5_Officecorner-scaled.jpeg?resize=1024%2C768 1024w, https://i0.wp.com/chrisricecooper.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/06/003.-Photo5_Officecorner-scaled.jpeg?resize=300%2C225 300w, https://i0.wp.com/chrisricecooper.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/06/003.-Photo5_Officecorner-scaled.jpeg?resize=768%2C576 768w, https://i0.wp.com/chrisricecooper.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/06/003.-Photo5_Officecorner-scaled.jpeg?resize=1536%2C1152 1536w, https://i0.wp.com/chrisricecooper.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/06/003.-Photo5_Officecorner-scaled.jpeg?resize=2048%2C1536 2048w, https://i0.wp.com/chrisricecooper.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/06/003.-Photo5_Officecorner-scaled.jpeg?resize=1568%2C1176 1568w, https://i0.wp.com/chrisricecooper.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/06/003.-Photo5_Officecorner-scaled.jpeg?w=2250 2250w" style="border-bottom-left-radius: inherit; border-bottom-right-radius: inherit; border-style: none; border-top-left-radius: inherit; border-top-right-radius: inherit; box-sizing: inherit; height: auto; max-width: 100%; vertical-align: middle;" width="750" /><figcaption style="box-sizing: inherit; color: var(--global--color-primary); font-size: var(--global--font-size-xs); line-height: var(--global--line-height-body); margin-bottom: var(--global--spacing-unit); margin-top: calc(0.5 * var(--global--spacing-unit)); max-width: var(--global--spacing-measure);">The corner of Ksenia Rychtycka’s office. Credit and Copyright by Ksenia Rychtycka</figcaption><figcaption style="box-sizing: inherit; color: var(--global--color-primary); font-size: var(--global--font-size-xs); line-height: var(--global--line-height-body); margin-bottom: var(--global--spacing-unit); margin-top: calc(0.5 * var(--global--spacing-unit)); max-width: var(--global--spacing-measure);"><br /></figcaption><figcaption style="box-sizing: inherit; color: var(--global--color-primary); font-size: var(--global--font-size-xs); line-height: var(--global--line-height-body); margin-bottom: var(--global--spacing-unit); margin-top: calc(0.5 * var(--global--spacing-unit)); max-width: var(--global--spacing-measure);"><br /></figcaption></figure><p style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: var(--entry-content--font-family); line-height: var(--wp--typography--line-height, var(--global--line-height-body)); margin: var(--global--spacing-vertical) auto; max-width: var(--responsive--aligndefault-width); padding: 0px; text-align: justify; word-wrap: break-word;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="box-sizing: inherit; font-weight: 700; max-width: var(--global--spacing-measure);">What month and year did you start writing this poem? </span></span></p><p style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: var(--entry-content--font-family); line-height: var(--wp--typography--line-height, var(--global--line-height-body)); margin: var(--global--spacing-vertical) auto; max-width: var(--responsive--aligndefault-width); padding: 0px; text-align: justify; word-wrap: break-word;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: var(--entry-content--font-family); line-height: var(--wp--typography--line-height, var(--global--line-height-body)); margin: var(--global--spacing-vertical) auto; max-width: var(--responsive--aligndefault-width); padding: 0px; text-align: justify; word-wrap: break-word;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I started writing the poem in 2019. I’d jotted down a few lines at first and later returned and expanded on the poem.</span></p><p style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: var(--entry-content--font-family); line-height: var(--wp--typography--line-height, var(--global--line-height-body)); margin: var(--global--spacing-vertical) auto; max-width: var(--responsive--aligndefault-width); padding: 0px; word-wrap: break-word;"><br /></p><p style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: var(--entry-content--font-family); line-height: var(--wp--typography--line-height, var(--global--line-height-body)); margin: var(--global--spacing-vertical) auto; max-width: var(--responsive--aligndefault-width); padding: 0px; word-wrap: break-word;"><br /></p><figure class="wp-block-image size-large" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: var(--entry-content--font-family); margin: var(--global--spacing-vertical) auto; max-width: var(--responsive--aligndefault-width); padding: 0px;"><img alt="" class="wp-image-8043 jetpack-lazy-image jetpack-lazy-image--handled" data-lazy-loaded="1" data-recalc-dims="1" height="1007" loading="eager" sizes="(max-width: 750px) 100vw, 750px" src="https://i0.wp.com/chrisricecooper.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/06/04-Photo2_2019.jpg?resize=750%2C1007" srcset="https://i0.wp.com/chrisricecooper.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/06/04-Photo2_2019.jpg?resize=763%2C1024 763w, https://i0.wp.com/chrisricecooper.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/06/04-Photo2_2019.jpg?resize=224%2C300 224w, https://i0.wp.com/chrisricecooper.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/06/04-Photo2_2019.jpg?resize=768%2C1031 768w, https://i0.wp.com/chrisricecooper.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/06/04-Photo2_2019.jpg?w=912 912w" style="border-bottom-left-radius: inherit; border-bottom-right-radius: inherit; border-style: none; border-top-left-radius: inherit; border-top-right-radius: inherit; box-sizing: inherit; height: auto; max-width: 100%; vertical-align: middle;" width="750" /><figcaption style="box-sizing: inherit; color: var(--global--color-primary); line-height: var(--global--line-height-body); margin-bottom: var(--global--spacing-unit); margin-top: calc(0.5 * var(--global--spacing-unit)); max-width: var(--global--spacing-measure);"><span style="font-size: medium;">Ksenia Rychtycka in 2019. Copyright by Ksenia Rychtycka</span></figcaption><figcaption style="box-sizing: inherit; color: var(--global--color-primary); line-height: var(--global--line-height-body); margin-bottom: var(--global--spacing-unit); margin-top: calc(0.5 * var(--global--spacing-unit)); max-width: var(--global--spacing-measure);"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></figcaption><figcaption style="box-sizing: inherit; color: var(--global--color-primary); line-height: var(--global--line-height-body); margin-bottom: var(--global--spacing-unit); margin-top: calc(0.5 * var(--global--spacing-unit)); max-width: var(--global--spacing-measure);"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></figcaption></figure><p style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: var(--entry-content--font-family); line-height: var(--wp--typography--line-height, var(--global--line-height-body)); margin: var(--global--spacing-vertical) auto; max-width: var(--responsive--aligndefault-width); padding: 0px; text-align: justify; word-wrap: break-word;"><span style="box-sizing: inherit; font-weight: 700; max-width: var(--global--spacing-measure);"><span style="font-size: medium;">Were there any lines in any of your rough drafts of this poem that were not in the final version? And can you share them with us? </span></span></p><p style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: var(--entry-content--font-family); line-height: var(--wp--typography--line-height, var(--global--line-height-body)); margin: var(--global--spacing-vertical) auto; max-width: var(--responsive--aligndefault-width); padding: 0px; text-align: justify; word-wrap: break-word;"><span style="font-family: var(--entry-content--font-family); font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: var(--entry-content--font-family); line-height: var(--wp--typography--line-height, var(--global--line-height-body)); margin: var(--global--spacing-vertical) auto; max-width: var(--responsive--aligndefault-width); padding: 0px; text-align: justify; word-wrap: break-word;"><span style="font-family: var(--entry-content--font-family); font-size: large;">The poem was revised numerous times and I remember playing around with the ending in particular. I don’t hang on to previous versions once I feel the poem is complete and final edits are made.</span></p><p style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: var(--entry-content--font-family); line-height: var(--wp--typography--line-height, var(--global--line-height-body)); margin: var(--global--spacing-vertical) auto; max-width: var(--responsive--aligndefault-width); padding: 0px; word-wrap: break-word;"><br /></p><p style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: var(--entry-content--font-family); line-height: var(--wp--typography--line-height, var(--global--line-height-body)); margin: var(--global--spacing-vertical) auto; max-width: var(--responsive--aligndefault-width); padding: 0px; word-wrap: break-word;"><br /></p><figure class="wp-block-image size-large" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: var(--entry-content--font-family); margin: var(--global--spacing-vertical) auto; max-width: var(--responsive--aligndefault-width); padding: 0px;"><img alt="" class="wp-image-8045 jetpack-lazy-image jetpack-lazy-image--handled" data-lazy-loaded="1" data-recalc-dims="1" height="519" loading="eager" sizes="(max-width: 750px) 100vw, 750px" src="https://i0.wp.com/chrisricecooper.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/06/005.-Photo3_-Participating-in-literary-event-in-Ukaine-with-my-mom.jpeg?resize=750%2C519" srcset="https://i0.wp.com/chrisricecooper.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/06/005.-Photo3_-Participating-in-literary-event-in-Ukaine-with-my-mom.jpeg?resize=1024%2C709 1024w, https://i0.wp.com/chrisricecooper.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/06/005.-Photo3_-Participating-in-literary-event-in-Ukaine-with-my-mom.jpeg?resize=300%2C208 300w, https://i0.wp.com/chrisricecooper.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/06/005.-Photo3_-Participating-in-literary-event-in-Ukaine-with-my-mom.jpeg?resize=768%2C531 768w, https://i0.wp.com/chrisricecooper.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/06/005.-Photo3_-Participating-in-literary-event-in-Ukaine-with-my-mom.jpeg?resize=1536%2C1063 1536w, https://i0.wp.com/chrisricecooper.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/06/005.-Photo3_-Participating-in-literary-event-in-Ukaine-with-my-mom.jpeg?resize=1568%2C1085 1568w, https://i0.wp.com/chrisricecooper.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/06/005.-Photo3_-Participating-in-literary-event-in-Ukaine-with-my-mom.jpeg?w=1727 1727w" style="border-bottom-left-radius: inherit; border-bottom-right-radius: inherit; border-style: none; border-top-left-radius: inherit; border-top-right-radius: inherit; box-sizing: inherit; height: auto; max-width: 100%; vertical-align: middle;" width="750" /><figcaption style="box-sizing: inherit; color: var(--global--color-primary); line-height: var(--global--line-height-body); margin-bottom: var(--global--spacing-unit); margin-top: calc(0.5 * var(--global--spacing-unit)); max-width: var(--global--spacing-measure); text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Ksenia Rychtycka and her mother, who was also a poet, participating in a literary event in Ukraine. Copyright by Ksenia Rychtycka</span></figcaption><figcaption style="box-sizing: inherit; color: var(--global--color-primary); line-height: var(--global--line-height-body); margin-bottom: var(--global--spacing-unit); margin-top: calc(0.5 * var(--global--spacing-unit)); max-width: var(--global--spacing-measure); text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></figcaption><figcaption style="box-sizing: inherit; color: var(--global--color-primary); line-height: var(--global--line-height-body); margin-bottom: var(--global--spacing-unit); margin-top: calc(0.5 * var(--global--spacing-unit)); max-width: var(--global--spacing-measure); text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></figcaption></figure><p style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: var(--entry-content--font-family); line-height: var(--wp--typography--line-height, var(--global--line-height-body)); margin: var(--global--spacing-vertical) auto; max-width: var(--responsive--aligndefault-width); padding: 0px; text-align: justify; word-wrap: break-word;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="box-sizing: inherit; font-weight: 700; max-width: var(--global--spacing-measure);">What do you want readers of this poem to take from this poem? </span></span></p><p style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: var(--entry-content--font-family); line-height: var(--wp--typography--line-height, var(--global--line-height-body)); margin: var(--global--spacing-vertical) auto; max-width: var(--responsive--aligndefault-width); padding: 0px; text-align: justify; word-wrap: break-word;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: var(--entry-content--font-family); line-height: var(--wp--typography--line-height, var(--global--line-height-body)); margin: var(--global--spacing-vertical) auto; max-width: var(--responsive--aligndefault-width); padding: 0px; text-align: justify; word-wrap: break-word;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The sense of history and tradition that is passed down through generations. Bonds that endure even in extreme circumstances. The cycle of life and death and how we remain connected to our family members through memories, and the legacies that are, in turn, passed on to future generations. Also, how using a specific image or item in a poem can take you down so many different paths. The poem started as a memory of an emotional moment in the present and the deeper I got into writing it, the more it delved into the past. The interconnectedness was a surprise during the crafting of the poem.</span></p><p style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: var(--entry-content--font-family); line-height: var(--wp--typography--line-height, var(--global--line-height-body)); margin: var(--global--spacing-vertical) auto; max-width: var(--responsive--aligndefault-width); padding: 0px; word-wrap: break-word;"><br /></p><p style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: var(--entry-content--font-family); line-height: var(--wp--typography--line-height, var(--global--line-height-body)); margin: var(--global--spacing-vertical) auto; max-width: var(--responsive--aligndefault-width); padding: 0px; word-wrap: break-word;"><br /></p><figure class="wp-block-image size-full" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: var(--entry-content--font-family); margin: var(--global--spacing-vertical) auto; max-width: var(--responsive--aligndefault-width); padding: 0px;"><img alt="" class="wp-image-8051 jetpack-lazy-image jetpack-lazy-image--handled" data-lazy-loaded="1" data-recalc-dims="1" height="599" loading="eager" sizes="(max-width: 750px) 100vw, 750px" src="https://i0.wp.com/chrisricecooper.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/06/006A-LEFT-mother-and-family-copy.jpg?resize=750%2C599" srcset="https://i0.wp.com/chrisricecooper.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/06/006A-LEFT-mother-and-family-copy.jpg?w=1002 1002w, https://i0.wp.com/chrisricecooper.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/06/006A-LEFT-mother-and-family-copy.jpg?resize=300%2C240 300w, https://i0.wp.com/chrisricecooper.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/06/006A-LEFT-mother-and-family-copy.jpg?resize=768%2C613 768w" style="border-bottom-left-radius: inherit; border-bottom-right-radius: inherit; border-style: none; border-top-left-radius: inherit; border-top-right-radius: inherit; box-sizing: inherit; height: auto; max-width: 100%; vertical-align: middle;" width="750" /><figcaption style="box-sizing: inherit; color: var(--global--color-primary); line-height: var(--global--line-height-body); margin-bottom: var(--global--spacing-unit); margin-top: calc(0.5 * var(--global--spacing-unit)); max-width: var(--global--spacing-measure); text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Ksenia Rychtycka’s mother (FAR LEFT) with her family. Copyright by Ksenia Rychtycka</span></figcaption><figcaption style="box-sizing: inherit; color: var(--global--color-primary); font-size: var(--global--font-size-xs); line-height: var(--global--line-height-body); margin-bottom: var(--global--spacing-unit); margin-top: calc(0.5 * var(--global--spacing-unit)); max-width: var(--global--spacing-measure);"><br /></figcaption><figcaption style="box-sizing: inherit; color: var(--global--color-primary); font-size: var(--global--font-size-xs); line-height: var(--global--line-height-body); margin-bottom: var(--global--spacing-unit); margin-top: calc(0.5 * var(--global--spacing-unit)); max-width: var(--global--spacing-measure);"><br /></figcaption></figure><p style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: var(--entry-content--font-family); line-height: var(--wp--typography--line-height, var(--global--line-height-body)); margin: var(--global--spacing-vertical) auto; max-width: var(--responsive--aligndefault-width); padding: 0px; text-align: justify; word-wrap: break-word;"><span style="box-sizing: inherit; font-weight: 700; max-width: var(--global--spacing-measure);"><span style="font-size: medium;">Which part of the poem was the most emotional for you to write and why? </span></span></p><p style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: var(--entry-content--font-family); line-height: var(--wp--typography--line-height, var(--global--line-height-body)); margin: var(--global--spacing-vertical) auto; max-width: var(--responsive--aligndefault-width); padding: 0px; text-align: justify; word-wrap: break-word;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: var(--entry-content--font-family); line-height: var(--wp--typography--line-height, var(--global--line-height-body)); margin: var(--global--spacing-vertical) auto; max-width: var(--responsive--aligndefault-width); padding: 0px; text-align: justify; word-wrap: break-word;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Writing the entire poem was emotional and bittersweet as my grandparents, mother and great-aunt have all passed away. But it was therapeutic to get it down on the page and tell these stories – stories that were passed down to me and ones that I experienced too. It all came full circle to be able to return to my ancestral land, to meet family that war and political persecutions had torn apart for many years. And I find it heartbreaking — in light of Russia’s current brutal war in Ukraine — to see how history is repeating itself. My family became reluctant refugees – they wanted to live in an independent Ukraine just like the brave men and women currently fighting for Ukraine’s survival and freedom.</span></p><p style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: var(--entry-content--font-family); line-height: var(--wp--typography--line-height, var(--global--line-height-body)); margin: var(--global--spacing-vertical) auto; max-width: var(--responsive--aligndefault-width); padding: 0px; text-align: justify; word-wrap: break-word;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: var(--entry-content--font-family); line-height: var(--wp--typography--line-height, var(--global--line-height-body)); margin: var(--global--spacing-vertical) auto; max-width: var(--responsive--aligndefault-width); padding: 0px; word-wrap: break-word;"><br /></p><figure class="wp-block-image size-large" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: var(--entry-content--font-family); margin: var(--global--spacing-vertical) auto; max-width: var(--responsive--aligndefault-width); padding: 0px;"><img alt="" class="wp-image-8055 jetpack-lazy-image jetpack-lazy-image--handled" data-lazy-loaded="1" data-recalc-dims="1" height="523" loading="eager" sizes="(max-width: 750px) 100vw, 750px" src="https://i0.wp.com/chrisricecooper.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/06/007A-Great-Aunt-left-with-my-mom-brother-and-two-uncles-1.jpg?resize=750%2C523" srcset="https://i0.wp.com/chrisricecooper.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/06/007A-Great-Aunt-left-with-my-mom-brother-and-two-uncles-1.jpg?resize=1024%2C714 1024w, https://i0.wp.com/chrisricecooper.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/06/007A-Great-Aunt-left-with-my-mom-brother-and-two-uncles-1.jpg?resize=300%2C209 300w, https://i0.wp.com/chrisricecooper.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/06/007A-Great-Aunt-left-with-my-mom-brother-and-two-uncles-1.jpg?resize=768%2C536 768w, https://i0.wp.com/chrisricecooper.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/06/007A-Great-Aunt-left-with-my-mom-brother-and-two-uncles-1.jpg?w=1432 1432w" style="border-bottom-left-radius: inherit; border-bottom-right-radius: inherit; border-style: none; border-top-left-radius: inherit; border-top-right-radius: inherit; box-sizing: inherit; height: auto; max-width: 100%; vertical-align: middle;" width="750" /><figcaption style="box-sizing: inherit; color: var(--global--color-primary); line-height: var(--global--line-height-body); margin-bottom: var(--global--spacing-unit); margin-top: calc(0.5 * var(--global--spacing-unit)); max-width: var(--global--spacing-measure); text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">From LEFT to RIGHT: Ksenia Rychtycka’s Great Aunt, Ksenia Rychtycka’s mother, Ksenia Rychtycka, Ksenia Rychtycka’s brother; Ksenia Rychtycka's two uncles. Copyright by Ksenia Rychtycka</span></figcaption><figcaption style="box-sizing: inherit; color: var(--global--color-primary); line-height: var(--global--line-height-body); margin-bottom: var(--global--spacing-unit); margin-top: calc(0.5 * var(--global--spacing-unit)); max-width: var(--global--spacing-measure); text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></figcaption><figcaption style="box-sizing: inherit; color: var(--global--color-primary); font-size: var(--global--font-size-xs); line-height: var(--global--line-height-body); margin-bottom: var(--global--spacing-unit); margin-top: calc(0.5 * var(--global--spacing-unit)); max-width: var(--global--spacing-measure);"><br /></figcaption></figure><figure class="wp-block-image size-large" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: var(--entry-content--font-family); margin: var(--global--spacing-vertical) auto; max-width: var(--responsive--aligndefault-width); padding: 0px;"><img alt="" class="wp-image-8058 jetpack-lazy-image jetpack-lazy-image--handled" data-lazy-loaded="1" data-recalc-dims="1" height="991" loading="eager" sizes="(max-width: 750px) 100vw, 750px" src="https://i0.wp.com/chrisricecooper.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/06/007B.-Photo7_-Picture-with-Babtsia-Grandmother.jpg?resize=750%2C991" srcset="https://i0.wp.com/chrisricecooper.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/06/007B.-Photo7_-Picture-with-Babtsia-Grandmother.jpg?resize=775%2C1024 775w, https://i0.wp.com/chrisricecooper.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/06/007B.-Photo7_-Picture-with-Babtsia-Grandmother.jpg?resize=227%2C300 227w, https://i0.wp.com/chrisricecooper.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/06/007B.-Photo7_-Picture-with-Babtsia-Grandmother.jpg?resize=768%2C1015 768w, https://i0.wp.com/chrisricecooper.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/06/007B.-Photo7_-Picture-with-Babtsia-Grandmother.jpg?resize=1162%2C1536 1162w, https://i0.wp.com/chrisricecooper.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/06/007B.-Photo7_-Picture-with-Babtsia-Grandmother.jpg?resize=1549%2C2048 1549w, https://i0.wp.com/chrisricecooper.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/06/007B.-Photo7_-Picture-with-Babtsia-Grandmother.jpg?resize=1568%2C2073 1568w, https://i0.wp.com/chrisricecooper.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/06/007B.-Photo7_-Picture-with-Babtsia-Grandmother.jpg?w=1821 1821w" style="border-bottom-left-radius: inherit; border-bottom-right-radius: inherit; border-style: none; border-top-left-radius: inherit; border-top-right-radius: inherit; box-sizing: inherit; height: auto; max-width: 100%; vertical-align: middle;" width="750" /><figcaption style="box-sizing: inherit; color: var(--global--color-primary); line-height: var(--global--line-height-body); margin-bottom: var(--global--spacing-unit); margin-top: calc(0.5 * var(--global--spacing-unit)); max-width: var(--global--spacing-measure); text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Ksenia Rychtycka with her grandmother “Babtsia”. Copyright by Ksenia Rychtycka</span></figcaption><figcaption style="box-sizing: inherit; color: var(--global--color-primary); font-size: var(--global--font-size-xs); line-height: var(--global--line-height-body); margin-bottom: var(--global--spacing-unit); margin-top: calc(0.5 * var(--global--spacing-unit)); max-width: var(--global--spacing-measure);"><br /></figcaption><figcaption style="box-sizing: inherit; color: var(--global--color-primary); font-size: var(--global--font-size-xs); line-height: var(--global--line-height-body); margin-bottom: var(--global--spacing-unit); margin-top: calc(0.5 * var(--global--spacing-unit)); max-width: var(--global--spacing-measure);"><br /></figcaption></figure><p style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: var(--entry-content--font-family); line-height: var(--wp--typography--line-height, var(--global--line-height-body)); margin: var(--global--spacing-vertical) auto; max-width: var(--responsive--aligndefault-width); padding: 0px; text-align: justify; word-wrap: break-word;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="box-sizing: inherit; font-weight: 700; max-width: var(--global--spacing-measure);">Has this poem been published? And if so where? </span></span></p><p style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: var(--entry-content--font-family); line-height: var(--wp--typography--line-height, var(--global--line-height-body)); margin: var(--global--spacing-vertical) auto; max-width: var(--responsive--aligndefault-width); padding: 0px; text-align: justify; word-wrap: break-word;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: var(--entry-content--font-family); line-height: var(--wp--typography--line-height, var(--global--line-height-body)); margin: var(--global--spacing-vertical) auto; max-width: var(--responsive--aligndefault-width); padding: 0px; text-align: justify; word-wrap: break-word;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Why Honey Matters” was published in The Literary Bohemian as well as in my chapbook: <span style="box-sizing: inherit; font-weight: 700; max-width: var(--global--spacing-measure);"><span style="box-sizing: inherit; font-style: italic; max-width: var(--global--spacing-measure);">A Sky Full Of Wings.</span></span></span></p><p style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: var(--entry-content--font-family); line-height: var(--wp--typography--line-height, var(--global--line-height-body)); margin: var(--global--spacing-vertical) auto; max-width: var(--responsive--aligndefault-width); padding: 0px; word-wrap: break-word;"><span style="box-sizing: inherit; font-weight: 700; max-width: var(--global--spacing-measure);"><span style="box-sizing: inherit; font-style: italic; max-width: var(--global--spacing-measure);"><br /></span></span></p><p style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: var(--entry-content--font-family); line-height: var(--wp--typography--line-height, var(--global--line-height-body)); margin: var(--global--spacing-vertical) auto; max-width: var(--responsive--aligndefault-width); padding: 0px; word-wrap: break-word;"><span style="box-sizing: inherit; font-weight: 700; max-width: var(--global--spacing-measure);"><span style="box-sizing: inherit; font-style: italic; max-width: var(--global--spacing-measure);"><br /></span></span></p><figure class="wp-block-image size-large" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: inherit; margin: var(--global--spacing-vertical) auto; max-width: var(--responsive--aligndefault-width); padding: 0px;"><span style="font-family: var(--entry-content--font-family);"><span style="border-bottom-left-radius: inherit; border-bottom-right-radius: inherit; border-top-left-radius: inherit; border-top-right-radius: inherit; box-sizing: inherit; height: auto; max-width: 100%; vertical-align: middle;"><img alt="" class="wp-image-8060 jetpack-lazy-image jetpack-lazy-image--handled" data-lazy-loaded="1" data-recalc-dims="1" height="573" loading="eager" sizes="(max-width: 750px) 100vw, 750px" src="https://i0.wp.com/chrisricecooper.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/06/008-2.jpg?resize=750%2C573" srcset="https://i0.wp.com/chrisricecooper.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/06/008-2-scaled.jpg?resize=1024%2C783 1024w, https://i0.wp.com/chrisricecooper.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/06/008-2-scaled.jpg?resize=300%2C230 300w, https://i0.wp.com/chrisricecooper.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/06/008-2-scaled.jpg?resize=768%2C588 768w, https://i0.wp.com/chrisricecooper.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/06/008-2-scaled.jpg?resize=1536%2C1175 1536w, https://i0.wp.com/chrisricecooper.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/06/008-2-scaled.jpg?resize=2048%2C1567 2048w, https://i0.wp.com/chrisricecooper.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/06/008-2-scaled.jpg?resize=1568%2C1200 1568w, https://i0.wp.com/chrisricecooper.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/06/008-2-scaled.jpg?w=2250 2250w" style="border-bottom-left-radius: inherit; border-bottom-right-radius: inherit; border-style: none; border-top-left-radius: inherit; border-top-right-radius: inherit; box-sizing: inherit; height: auto; max-width: 100%; vertical-align: middle;" width="750" /></span></span><figure class="wp-block-image size-full" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: inherit; margin: var(--global--spacing-vertical) auto; max-width: var(--responsive--aligndefault-width); padding: 0px;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria, serif; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: start; text-indent: 0.5in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: start; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 21.33333396911621px;">Why Honey Matters</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: start; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 21.33333396911621px;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: start; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 21.33333396911621px;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: start; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 21.33333396911621px;"> I (1944)</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: start; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 21.33333396911621px;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: start; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 21.33333396911621px;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: start; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 21.33333396911621px;">Back in Ukraine, Dido loved beekeeping. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: start; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 21.33333396911621px;">Behind barbed wire at an internment camp, </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: start; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 21.33333396911621px;">his honey bought bread for Mother, Uncle </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: start; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 21.33333396911621px;">and Babtsia. Every crumb prized.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: start; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 21.33333396911621px;">Each morsel gulped. Always aching for more.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: start; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 21.33333396911621px;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: start; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 21.33333396911621px;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: start; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 21.33333396911621px;">II (2018)</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: start; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 21.33333396911621px;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: start; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 21.33333396911621px;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: start; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 21.33333396911621px;">Mother comes to me as I’m making honey cake, </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: start; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 21.33333396911621px;">measuring out sugar then whipping eggs. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: start; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 21.33333396911621px;">Never mind that Mother left this earth</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: start; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 21.33333396911621px;">eighteen months earlier. I can sense her pleasure, </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: start; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 21.33333396911621px;">her presence -- palpable as smoke. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: start; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 21.33333396911621px;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: start; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 21.33333396911621px;">I apologize aloud for running out of buckwheat </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: start; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 21.33333396911621px;">honey which we both know tastes best. Dark </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: start; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 21.33333396911621px;">as amber -- flavored like musk and molasses. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: start; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 21.33333396911621px;">But Mother doesn’t mind. In my empty kitchen, </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: start; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 21.33333396911621px;">I sense no disapproval. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: start; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 21.33333396911621px;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: start; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 21.33333396911621px;">Now that Mother’s with me, I grow bold</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: start; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 21.33333396911621px;">with my spices. Extra ginger and cinnamon. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: start; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 21.33333396911621px;">Grated orange rind. Splash of rum.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: start; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 21.33333396911621px;">Like Mother, I don’t hold back. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: start; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 21.33333396911621px;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: start; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 21.33333396911621px;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: start; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 21.33333396911621px;">III (1990)</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: start; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 21.33333396911621px;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: start; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 21.33333396911621px;">First boil honey. Then cool it. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: start; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 21.33333396911621px;">But don’t get lax. Boiled too long, </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: start; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 21.33333396911621px;">honey loses its essence. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: start; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 21.33333396911621px;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: start; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 21.33333396911621px; text-indent: 0.5in;">Great-Aunt whispers in my ear</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: start; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 21.33333396911621px;">after too much Crimean Muscat –</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: start; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 21.33333396911621px;">table laden with cheese, kovbasa, crepes,</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: start; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 21.33333396911621px;">thick slices of seven-layered honey cake –</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: start; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 21.33333396911621px;">one layer for each decade she’s lived. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: start; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 21.33333396911621px;">Homemade cherry wine slips down my throat.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: start; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 21.33333396911621px;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: start; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 21.33333396911621px;">It’s been 47 years since Great-Aunt last </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: start; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 21.33333396911621px;">embraced Mother. This morning, in Carpathian </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: start; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 21.33333396911621px;">hometown -- a blue door opened. Tremor </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: start; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 21.33333396911621px;">of hands. Rush of feet. No words spoken. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: start; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 21.33333396911621px;">Only the chirping of birds outside.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: start; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 21.33333396911621px;">Only the caress of reunion inside. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: start; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 21.33333396911621px;"> </span></span></p><div style="font-family: var(--entry-content--font-family);"><br /></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria, serif; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: start; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 16pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria, serif; 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box-sizing: inherit; margin: 0px; max-height: 447px; max-width: 100%; padding: 0px;" title="A Sky Full Of Wings" type="text/html" width="750"></iframe></div></figure><p style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: var(--entry-content--font-family); line-height: var(--wp--typography--line-height, var(--global--line-height-body)); margin: var(--global--spacing-vertical) auto; max-width: var(--responsive--aligndefault-width); padding: 0px; word-wrap: break-word;"><span style="box-sizing: inherit; font-weight: 700; max-width: var(--global--spacing-measure);"><br /></span></p><p style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: var(--entry-content--font-family); line-height: var(--wp--typography--line-height, var(--global--line-height-body)); margin: var(--global--spacing-vertical) auto; max-width: var(--responsive--aligndefault-width); padding: 0px; word-wrap: break-word;"><span style="box-sizing: inherit; font-weight: 700; max-width: var(--global--spacing-measure);"><br /></span></p><p style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: var(--entry-content--font-family); line-height: var(--wp--typography--line-height, var(--global--line-height-body)); margin: var(--global--spacing-vertical) auto; max-width: var(--responsive--aligndefault-width); padding: 0px; text-align: justify; word-wrap: break-word;"><span style="box-sizing: inherit; font-weight: 700; max-width: var(--global--spacing-measure);"><span style="font-size: medium;">Click on the link below to read “Why Honey Matters” from The Literary Bohemian:</span></span></p><p style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: var(--entry-content--font-family); line-height: var(--wp--typography--line-height, var(--global--line-height-body)); margin: var(--global--spacing-vertical) auto; max-width: var(--responsive--aligndefault-width); padding: 0px; word-wrap: break-word;"><span style="box-sizing: inherit; font-weight: 700; max-width: var(--global--spacing-measure);"><br /></span></p><p style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: var(--entry-content--font-family); line-height: var(--wp--typography--line-height, var(--global--line-height-body)); margin: var(--global--spacing-vertical) auto; max-width: var(--responsive--aligndefault-width); padding: 0px; word-wrap: break-word;"><span style="box-sizing: inherit; font-weight: 700; max-width: var(--global--spacing-measure);"><br /></span></p><figure class="wp-block-embed is-type-wp-embed is-provider-the-literary-bohemian wp-block-embed-the-literary-bohemian" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: var(--entry-content--font-family); margin: var(--global--spacing-vertical) auto; max-width: var(--responsive--aligndefault-width); padding: 0px;"><div class="wp-block-embed__wrapper" style="box-sizing: inherit; max-width: none; position: relative;"><iframe class="wp-embedded-content" data-secret="rOhRNpRBRj" frameborder="0" height="234" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" sandbox="allow-scripts" scrolling="no" security="restricted" src="https://literarybohemian.com/poetry/why-honey-matters/embed/#?secret=43aMcixVwx#?secret=rOhRNpRBRj" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: inherit; margin: 0px; max-width: 100%; padding: 0px;" title="“Why Honey Matters” — The Literary Bohemian" width="600"></iframe></div></figure><p style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: var(--entry-content--font-family); line-height: var(--wp--typography--line-height, var(--global--line-height-body)); margin: var(--global--spacing-vertical) auto; max-width: var(--responsive--aligndefault-width); padding: 0px; word-wrap: break-word;"><br /></p><p style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: var(--entry-content--font-family); line-height: var(--wp--typography--line-height, var(--global--line-height-body)); margin: var(--global--spacing-vertical) auto; max-width: var(--responsive--aligndefault-width); padding: 0px; word-wrap: break-word;"><br /></p><p style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: var(--entry-content--font-family); line-height: var(--wp--typography--line-height, var(--global--line-height-body)); margin: var(--global--spacing-vertical) auto; max-width: var(--responsive--aligndefault-width); padding: 0px; text-align: justify; word-wrap: break-word;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Click on the link below to visit Ksenia Rychtycka’s website: </b></span></p><p style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: var(--entry-content--font-family); line-height: var(--wp--typography--line-height, var(--global--line-height-body)); margin: var(--global--spacing-vertical) auto; max-width: var(--responsive--aligndefault-width); padding: 0px; text-align: justify; word-wrap: break-word;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: var(--entry-content--font-family); line-height: var(--wp--typography--line-height, var(--global--line-height-body)); margin: var(--global--spacing-vertical) auto; max-width: var(--responsive--aligndefault-width); padding: 0px; text-align: justify; word-wrap: break-word;"><a href="https://www.kseniarychtycka.com/#xl_xr_page_index" style="box-sizing: inherit; color: var(--wp--style--color--link, var(--global--color-primary)); cursor: pointer; max-width: var(--global--spacing-measure); text-decoration-thickness: 1px; text-underline-offset: 3px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://www.kseniarychtycka.com/#xl_xr_page_index</span></a></p><p style="font-family: var(--entry-content--font-family);"></p></figure></figure></figure></div><p><br class="Apple-interchange-newline" /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Ksenia Rychtyckahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16530042808165096336noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7409799800186262281.post-43104196097770339132018-09-14T20:16:00.000-07:002018-09-15T11:21:29.032-07:00Celebrating Maya: Our Dog Tale<br />
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<i>Three months ago we lost our beautiful dog. Here's my tribute:</i></div>
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Maya – our energetic bundle of apricot-gold goodness. Pure love with an attitude when she didn’t quite get her way although that never happened too often. We were softies and our goldendoodle knew it. How she loved it when we’d rub her belly, when I’d gently stroke the sides of her face. That sweet sigh of satisfaction she’d emit. How she loved to “play rough” with Volodya, giving no ground in their tug of war battle, her tail swinging from side to side. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUdr9AbFNQRtyIDhyphenhyphenLWfVdXR4wY-1NRVabw25p6TeHLm2O_KMz1R2l2pckk7NsLzXW-MWincZFOJuuTOqBCSMyi0t4Ip_xku9qj6NRYlnWWEs_K69iPgE1kx4zUZICuwZI3ywKpCgFteia/s1600/24883486_10214343518479978_6951903138142597_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUdr9AbFNQRtyIDhyphenhyphenLWfVdXR4wY-1NRVabw25p6TeHLm2O_KMz1R2l2pckk7NsLzXW-MWincZFOJuuTOqBCSMyi0t4Ip_xku9qj6NRYlnWWEs_K69iPgE1kx4zUZICuwZI3ywKpCgFteia/s320/24883486_10214343518479978_6951903138142597_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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On the few occasions she didn’t get what she wanted immediately, there was that little grunt she’d make of dissatisfaction, but then she’d come over and with a swish of her tail, lie down nearby and put her head on her paws. She loved to be near us wherever we were – on the couch, on the bed, in the kitchen. She’d squeeze her 70-pound body under the small kitchen table as we ate, sometimes so silent I’d forget she was there. Of course, she was aptly rewarded, more often by Volodya than me, but I couldn’t resist her pleading brown eyes either. <i>Feed me, </i>they said<i>.</i><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSuROrb7OnDVcSmiQAeA4rgiDIjcO169sazPSF-XZPAH3FeXLlsByv3wNeoMlmHwdIPfa-tWxr7-mtKEMKbRypAGsW5BmpTRn-dm02aApKBHh1Gsrrz_y836q9BJ4HiNTyUkuJkKGYICvp/s1600/Maya_0002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1062" data-original-width="1600" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSuROrb7OnDVcSmiQAeA4rgiDIjcO169sazPSF-XZPAH3FeXLlsByv3wNeoMlmHwdIPfa-tWxr7-mtKEMKbRypAGsW5BmpTRn-dm02aApKBHh1Gsrrz_y836q9BJ4HiNTyUkuJkKGYICvp/s320/Maya_0002.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria";">Linochka was often her accomplice and took great pleasure in throwing her the discarded food she didn’t feel like eating. She usually was careful to do it when Volodya and I were distracted or out of the room. Maya would hover near her, knowing she’d soon be rewarded. From time to time, Lina would like putting her feet on Maya’s soft fur and the two of them would lie there quietly in an understood silence and sense of camaraderie. </span></div>
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Maya was the one who’d alert us to the arrival of the school bus in the mornings. She’d walk over to the bathroom where Lina would still be brushing her teeth while I supervised, and stand there looking up at us, letting us know to get moving faster. In the afternoons, she‘d like it when I’d open the front door and she got to observe Chalfonte street in all its glory. Trilevels and an occasional ranch house dot our quiet subdivision and many dogs reside here. Any child walking by or truck slowing down would get her barking, but as Maya grew older, she mellowed out and simply observed the surroundings from our cul de sac. She had this deep alto bark that easily distinguished her from all the other dogs in our neighborhood. In some ways it resembled a croaking frog. <o:p></o:p></div>
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These days, our house feels different, empty and morose, even when all three of us are there. Her bowls and dog bed have been put away and we realize how much this place was her domain. Her spirit resides here and it’s where I sense her the most, inches from my feet. That’s where she appeared to me in my dream, two nights after her soul passed. She was lying snuggled at my feet, as she’d done countless times over the years. In the dream I was asleep on our bed with her and Lina while Volodya was still in Kyiv, visiting his mom and brother. Maya started growling in the dream and I opened my eyes, noticing that one of our windows was open. But this window was decidedly more ornate and immense, resembling a window in a castle. Just then the sound of unfamiliar voices wafted into the room. It seemed as if a group of people had gathered outside our house. I was stunned, wondering who they were and what they wanted. I knew I had to close the window as I felt the first pinpricks of fear. That’s when the window started opening by itself even wider and the voices grew louder. Maya stayed next to me and kept growling. Just as I started to get up, I awoke from my dream. </div>
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Later my friend Dorene pulled out her dream cards and wrote that the window and castle suggest an exit to an otherworldly realm. When she looked up window, the Opening card came up: <i>Sometimes simply letting events happen as they will sets the stage for new intentions. Allow things to happen in your life, following where they </i><i>lead you</i>. In contrast, looking up castle produced the Protecting card: <i>To protect is to preserve our essential nature against what would destroy it.</i><i><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue";"><o:p></o:p></span></i><br />
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I’ve loved dogs since I was a kid. Although I love animals in general, I felt some strange kinship with them, was always happy when they came sniffing round our small lot on Mitchell Street in Hamtramck. One golden lab would regularly escape her back yard and amble down the street, settling herself near me as I’d skip rope or bounce my large polka-dotted ball against the side of the house. </div>
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Back then I’d periodically pester my mother for a dog but we lived in a small rented flat and there was no grassy back yard for a dog to even play in. One time when I renewed my request for a dog, my mother started tearing up, telling me that when she and her family fled Ukraine during World War II, their beloved Chunya had gotten separated from the family. There was no time to stop and look for her as they were literally fleeing for their lives. Later as I grew older, I learned more about the wartime horrors and losses that my family and countless others had endured but that childhood memory of my mother’s lost dog has always stayed with me.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Before Maya came along, there was Sirka. Sirka was my sister’s dog and though her whole family doted on her, my mother, brother and I considered her ours too, and were excited for any opportunity to take care of her when they were out of town. She was a gray-white mix of Siberian husky, terrier and German shepherd, and lived to the dog-ripe age of 15. Her name derives from the Ukrainian color “siriy” which means gray. Sirka was a sensitive soul, just like Maya. When she had to be alone for a while and Volodya and I would come over, she snuggled next to me, in a loud tone complaining at the injustice. I’d stroke her and agree wholeheartedly until she’d settle down. We’d take Sirka for car rides, just to watch her excitedly race from one back-seat window to the other. When she was young, we’d go for walks in the woods near my sister’s house and she’d race freely about at supersonic speed. Sirka was a rebel too but then what dog isn’t? My sister would drive up to the house and catch Sirka gazing out the front window, sitting on the forbidden front room couch.<o:p></o:p><br />
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Maya, on the other hand, was anxious in the car even when Lina or I sat next to her during our annual trips up north. What she loved though was racing into the water, swimming round us at Lake Louise or Little Bear Lake, and excitedly jumping into the waves of Lake Superior the summer we visited the UP. Her joy filled us with joy and Lina would burst out laughing at her antics, following Maya’s steps through the waves near the shoreline.</div>
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Maya loved chasing the squirrels and hapless bunnies that reside in our spacious, pie-shaped yard. She also learned the hard way that running after the skunk was not the best idea. It took days to get rid of the scent from that encounter. But in everything, Maya was persistent. She’d eye the cupboard door where her snacks were kept and then look over at me numerous times wondering what a dunce I was before I’d finally cave and give her a snack. After the squirrels tired of dodging Maya, they’d run up one of the trees and Maya would sit nearby for long stretches, staring up at the limbs, waiting for them to come back down.<o:p></o:p><br />
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These days it’s those routines we miss most. Like when she’d curl up by our feet and put her head on our knees, sighing deeply like she just hit the jackpot. How excited she’d get when we’d pull out the leash, jumping around like a puppy even in her last days. The sweet jingle of the red heart-shaped tag on her pink collar as she’d run to greet you at the door. The prance of her step when Volodya would take her on her daily walk, sauntering past all the houses where dogs were locked inside or in the back yard, barking furiously at her. The ringing of the bell hanging near the back door when she had to go outside. At least that was the purpose of the bell. But quite often Maya would lift her paw and hit it, hoping for a snack. She became a master at ringing that </div>
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The nasal cancer diagnosis came out of nowhere shortly before Maya turned nine and a half. It was a surreal time, right around the first anniversary of my mom’s death. My mom had loved Maya just as she’d loved Sirka years earlier. She especially enjoyed seeing her fly across our yard in joyful abandon. </div>
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But in a crazy twist, the universe had a surprise for us. The day before Maya crossed the rainbow bridge, Volodya won $1,000 on a lottery ticket. It seemed unbelievable as he’d just started playing on a whim and used our birthdates. I was sure he was joking. At the time we had no idea we’d have to rush Maya to the vet hospital the very next morning, that she’d decline drastically during the night, that we’d have to come home without her, that the hospital bill would turn out to be just over the thousand we’d won.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I believe that people and animals come into our lives with a purpose. Sometimes it’s just for a little while and sometimes it’s for longer. Maya came into our lives at a time when our family needed all the love and joy that only she could bring. We had her for almost a decade and although that wasn’t nearly enough, every day proved to be a gift.<o:p></o:p></div>
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A few weeks ago as I hurried from the kitchen to the hallway, I had a vision of Maya sitting on the couch in the way she always did, her brown eyes looking steadily at me. It took a few seconds before the realization sunk in and I suddenly stopped, then turned around in an incredulous double take. Of course, the sofa was empty, not even a pile of blankets on it to resemble a small mound, much less a dog. A couple of hours later, Volodya came home to tell me he’d finally cleaned out the back seat of his car, nearly two months after Maya had laid on it in what would turn out to be her final day with us. I froze, remembering my dream. She had again sent me a sign that she was nearby.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Ksenia Rychtyckahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16530042808165096336noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7409799800186262281.post-16588649956071572892017-11-09T04:16:00.001-08:002017-11-09T04:16:06.335-08:00Artist Spotlight: John Nagridge<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst">
<i>I haven't posted anything on here in quite a while but I'd like to share my interview with local Detroit artist John Nagridge, which was published in the Ukrainian Metro News (Detroitski Novyny) magazine. John's an incredible artist and his art (along with other local artists' works) will be exhibited at the upcoming Grand Opening of the Ukrainian American Archives & Museum on November 11 in Hamtramck, Michigan. If you live in the area, stop by Saturday or on Sunday from 10:00 a.m. to 3:00 p.m. for the Open House. Click here for more info:</i> <a href="https://www.facebook.com/events/1455402921193058/" target="_blank">Ukrainian American Archives & Museum Grand Opening Celebration</a>. </div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">When it comes to
landscape painting, John Nagridge likes being outside, always on the lookout
for an inspiring vista. It allows him to be spontaneous and encourages him to
interpret the world around him in a way that painting a scene from a photo simply
can’t.</i></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo by Jovan Jacobs</td></tr>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">John grew up in
Detroit and attended Immaculate Conception Schools. His drawings, etchings,
woodcuts and paintings have been exhibited in various Detroit galleries,
including the Detroit Artists Market and the Scarab Club. He was awarded a
David Groff Purchase Award for a woodcut that was later exhibited at the
Detroit Institute of Arts. John also designed the 2013 exhibition catalogue “A
CULTURAL THREAD: The Enduring Ukrainian Spirit” for the Ukrainian American
Archives & Museum of Detroit, art directed the display boards that were
exhibited at the Detroit Historical Museum, and created the Ukrainian Museum website. <o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">How did you first get
started on your path as an artist? <o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #000090;">My start began with a love for Peanuts comic strips. My
dad bought me a paperback collection when I first learned to read. I learned to
draw all the characters from it, especially Snoopy. I was pretty much
self-taught until I went to Immaculate Conception High School, where I had art
classes every Friday afternoon. <o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #000090;">I majored in art at Macomb Community College and the
Center for Creative Studies. I received my Bachelor of Fine Arts degree with a
Concentration in Drawing and Printmaking from Wayne State University.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #000090;">After graduation I continued woodcuts and linocuts. These
printmaking mediums don’t require a special studio with chemicals and acids.
I’d also do an occasional micropoint painting, a technique that involves masking
a canvas and applying colors with spray. It’s like doing the pysanky technique
on canvas. A few years ago, I started concentrating on painting and fell in
love with it.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Please talk about your earliest influences.</i></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #000090;">There have been so many influences: teachers, friends,
artists! <o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #000090;">My first fine art influences were Mychailo Dmytrenko’s
paintings on the inside of <a href="http://icchurch-osbm.com/photos.html" target="_blank">Immaculate Conception Church</a> in Hamtramck. I love
how he mixed realism with cubism with mosaic with Byzantine icons. His use of
color and composition was so original. On the front right wall of the church is
his painting of the Holy Trinity laying the crown on the Virgin Mary. It’s been
one of my favorite paintings since I was in first or second grade. I don’t know
if I’ve ever paid attention to an entire Mass whenever it’s been in my eyesight
— including my own wedding!</span></b><span style="font-family: "times" , "serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #000090;">My high school art teacher Luba Kytasta encouraged me to
sketch. I would draw scenes from a violent Conan the Barbarian tale or a
strange comic book character to try to shock her. Instead of being shocked, she
simply nodded at each page and pointed out a shading technique I could try to
get my effect across better.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She then
told me to draw more for her to view a week later.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The constant output of sketches dramatically
improved my drawing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She’s been a
supportive influence ever since.<o:p></o:p></span></b><br />
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #000090;">At Wayne State, I was strongly influenced by Stanley
Rosenthal, Michael Mahoney and John Hegarty. Other early influences include
Detroit artists Stephen Goodfellow and Lowell Boileau. They taught me
micropointillism.</span></b></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #000090;">The rest of my influences range from comic book artists
to Michelangelo to the 19<sup>th</sup> century Romantics to the Impressionists
and the German Expressionists. <o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">What impact has your
Ukrainian background had on your work?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #000090;">Like a lot of Ukrainian youth, I attended Saturday
Ukrainian school. In between the lessons on grammar and memorizing the usual
poems and songs, our teacher, Mrs. Julia Kapitanec, told amazing stories. I
loved the tales of the rulers of Kyiv Rus, especially the Death of Prince Oleh.
Mrs. Kapitanec also introduced me to the character Baba Yaga. I did a lot of
sketches and paintings based on Baba Yaga tales with the thought of maybe doing
a children’s book one day. One of my Baba Yaga paintings was exhibited in a
show dedicated to Ukrainian artists at the Scarab Club in Detroit, coincidentally
where I also showed my five-color linocut of the Death of Prince Oleh. Another
favorite is the Revenge of Queen Olha (a subject I would love to paint).<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #000090;">Dzvinka Hayda has made a huge impact on my art. I met her
when she was the president of a Ukrainian art organization named ADUK. She
invited me to show at the Scarab Club Ukrainian art shows. She introduced me to
the writings of Nikolai Gogol, whose scary and funny tales set in Ukraine
influenced some of my art. <o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Baba Yaga</td></tr>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">What’s the best advice
you ever received and would like to pass on about being true to your creative
vision?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #000090;">Make art. A lot of it. When you’re done, make some more.
The concept of talent is overrated. You become a good artist because you worked
hard at it, devoting countless hours to your craft. To admire an artist’s work
and say he or she did it out of talent, dismisses all the hard work and
practice the artist put in over many years of development.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">What inspires you? <o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #000090;">Other people’s art! Whenever I leave an art museum, art
fair or gallery, I’m very eager to get working on my own work. When I hang
around other artists and talk with them, I can’t wait to draw or paint.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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You’ve used various techniques in your artwork throughout
the years. Can you talk a little about the evolution and why plein air knife
painting is now your preference.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #000090;">I met Kim Rhoney at the Northville Art Fair. She did
these gorgeous knife paintings with amazing color and nice, thick paint.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I asked about her technique and she
generously gave me tips to start. The next day I used a knife on a small oil
painting, but didn’t care for it. I returned to brush and acrylic paint because
I felt more familiar with them. A year or so later, I gave a mini painting
workshop to a niece and my wife’s goddaughter. While they were painting, I
thought I’d do a painting of them. Since they took my brushes, all I had left
was a painting knife. This time the technique took. I did a quick acrylic
painting of them and everyone loved it. A couple of years later, I took a
workshop with Kim and she converted me to strictly oil painting. I haven’t
stopped since. <o:p></o:p></span></b><br />
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #000090;"><br /></span></b>
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #000090;"><br /></span></b></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Aged Splendor</td></tr>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #000090;">It’s a great technique for me. It forces me to not get
fussy with details. I have to simplify the forms in my painting. It encourages
me to be loose, free and generous with my paint. It’s so expressive that I
can’t help but reveal my mood or personality in every painting I do. Hopefully,
that’s a good thing, ha ha!<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #000090;">The past few years, I’ve really gotten into plein air
painting. My in-laws have a neat little place in the Thumb. My wife and I will
go up for a week or even a long weekend. I’ll bring my supplies and paint in
Caseville, Bay Port, Kilmanaugh, and various parks and nature centers. It’s
especially lovely in the fall.<o:p></o:p></span></b><br />
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #000090;"><br /></span></b>
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaoKqMzU0StzBHG_oialzeRvzdZQWshX48vV-b_WdoYRne3LE0D5Il8Md3WUvlQqLzf57zCb1-P2xHE7iZ3-SWk9lrNuRXJN8FuhmxjfqR2_JTpXWEhJz3hk9lIsSvce6O0trhj-bvNAIC/s1600/pumpkinpatch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaoKqMzU0StzBHG_oialzeRvzdZQWshX48vV-b_WdoYRne3LE0D5Il8Md3WUvlQqLzf57zCb1-P2xHE7iZ3-SWk9lrNuRXJN8FuhmxjfqR2_JTpXWEhJz3hk9lIsSvce6O0trhj-bvNAIC/s400/pumpkinpatch.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pumpkin Patch</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Elmurst Fall</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #000090;"><i>What's next for you on your artistic journey -- exhibits, plans, dreams?</i></span></span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #000090;"><br /></span></b>
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #000090;">I have a few paintings hanging at the new location of the
Ukrainian Museum in Hamtramck. In August, I’m also participating in the Dexter
Paint Out. I’ll make my usual treks to the Thumb area to do more plein air
painting. One day, I’ve got to do a painting at Dibrova.</span></b></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Caseville Breakwall</td></tr>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #000090;"><br /></span></b>
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #000090;">My dream is to retire from my job as a graphic designer
and have all the time I want to paint, paint, paint. In 10 to 15 years, who
knows? <o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2 Arrows Sign</td></tr>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: #000090;"><br /></span></i></b>
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: #000090;">For more information about John’s art,
check out his website at: <a href="http://johnnagridge.com/" target="_blank">johnnagridge.com</a> or <a href="https://www.etsy.com/shop/NagridgeCreative" target="_blank">https://www.etsy.com/shop/NagridgeCreative</a></span></i></b></div>
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Ksenia Rychtyckahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16530042808165096336noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7409799800186262281.post-45069643683450095762016-05-06T15:08:00.000-07:002016-05-06T15:08:22.391-07:00Books and Banter: Ksenia Rychtycka ~ an interview and her novel ~ Cr...Check out my interview at Books and Banter:<br />
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<a href="http://locglin.blogspot.com/2016/05/ksenia-rychtycka-interview-and-her.html?spref=bl">Books and Banter: Ksenia Rychtycka ~ an interview and her novel ~ Cr...</a>:Ksenia Rychtyckahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16530042808165096336noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7409799800186262281.post-20735829491810942442016-05-02T12:06:00.000-07:002016-05-02T12:12:36.035-07:00Win a Signed Copy of Crossing The BorderI'm participating in a virtual blog tour this week. Check it out and enter the giveaway to win a signed copy of Crossing The Border:<br />
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<a href="http://mybooktour.blogspot.com/2016/05/crossing-border-by-ksenia-rychtycka.html?spref=bl">Virtual Book Tours : Crossing the Border by Ksenia Rychtycka Virtual Bo...</a>: Ksenia Rychtyckahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16530042808165096336noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7409799800186262281.post-15437887343641170242016-03-08T18:03:00.000-08:002016-03-18T17:02:06.636-07:00Interview with Poet Nina Orlovskaya<div class="title" style="color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif; line-height: 1.1; margin-bottom: 0.5em;">
<span style="font-size: large;">October 25, 2014</span></div>
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<em><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.kseniarychtycka.com/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2014/10/Orlovska.png" rel="nofollow" style="color: #00635d;"><img alt="N.Orlovska" class="escapedImg" src="https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/photo.goodreads.com/hostedimages/1414737368i/11684733.png" style="border: 0px; float: left; margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; max-width: 613px;" /></a>Nina Orlovskaya's awesome poetry was recently published in Ukrainian Metro News. Please check out her poems if you haven’t had the opportunity! Her book is available on <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Fragmentsandletters-Nina-K-Orlovskaya/dp/1468004883/ref=tmm_pap_title_0?ie=UTF8&qid=1414274474&sr=8-1" rel="nofollow" style="color: #00635d;">Amazon</a>. I was excited to interview Nina about her work.</span></em></div>
<em><span style="font-size: large;">Can you talk about the impact of poetry on your life and when you first started writing.</span></em><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I started writing poetry early in life, sometime during middle school. Being an introvert, I spent most of my time alone, indulging in thinking, and somehow I discovered music when I connected certain words that were interconnected in specific ways. I discovered metaphor before I learned that I wasn’t original — it was discovered centuries earlier. I didn’t call it metaphor, of course, I called it a cryptic way of saying anything you wanted to and no one or almost no one would understand you. When you’re 10 years old, to use metaphors while talking to your peers is slightly weird but cool. So I’ll say that poetry was a bridge for one introverted kid to travel into the extroverted world. Also, it helped me learn how to organize my thinking process and develop a very strong emotional memory. It’s sad to know that societies overlook the importance of teaching, or I should say, discovering the language of poetry in our children. Poetry is a language within a language -- an essence of language, a shortcut into a human subconsciousness.</span><br />
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<em><span style="font-size: large;">You are fluent in several languages. When you sit down to write, how do you select the language of the poem or is this a fluid process?</span></em><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I mostly write in English, sometimes in Ukrainian, and less often in Russian. Although I read poetry almost every day in all those languages. A poem starts in my mind as a vivid flash, a sudden splash of a past memory, triggered by a scene, a word, smell, taste …. just about anything. My poetry is a reflection of my feelings on some event in the past, kind of a third-level scenario. I don’t choose a language to write one poem or another; the language chooses me. I think in English but in that creative process that occurs right before conscious thought, I ‘feel’ in all three languages.</span><br />
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<i><span style="font-size: large;">What is your writing and editing process like?</span></i><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I write fast and short: a flash, a stream of consciousness. And later I reflect on what experience, what memory, is in that “gibberish” — kind of like decoding my own thoughts. Sometimes I have a complete four- or six-liner in my head when I wake up and that’s a poem that doesn’t need any editing. Almost all my very short poems are of this nature. A usual process of editing starts a few days after the poem is written. I like to revisit the poem every month or every few months, but I never let myself make any changes to the poem after one year.</span><br />
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<em><span style="font-size: large;">What poets do you read and who is especially helpful or inspirational?</span></em><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Just to name a few: Rainer Maria Rilke, Anna Akhmatova, Charles Bukowski, Theodore Roethke, Thomas Transtromer, Pablo Neruda, Robert Pinsky, Taras Shevchenko, and others. Often I read my less famous but still inspirational friends/poets. When I have writer’s block or need to find inner peace, I read Thomas Transtromer. For instance, I never tire of reading his poem “After a Death.”</span><br />
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<i><span style="font-size: large;">What inspires you? </span></i><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I have to say nothing and everything. I am very hungry for life. There are times when I live with no time to write and I don’t even try to break my pace of living. And then there are times when everything slows down – it’s a time of reflection and involution, a time of inspiration and writing. That’s when I am most true to myself.</span><br />
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<a href="http://www.pinterest.com/pin/create/extension/?url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.blogger.com%2Fblogger.g%3FblogID%3D7409799800186262281%23editor%2Fsrc%3Dsidebar&media=https%3A%2F%2Fi.gr-assets.com%2Fimages%2FS%2Fphoto.goodreads.com%2Fhostedimages%2F1411516130i%2F11243151._SY540_.jpg&xm=h&xv=sa1.37.01&xuid=ceex83WXcxS9&description=Nina%20Orlovskaya" style="background-color: transparent; background-image: url(data:image/png; border: none; cursor: pointer; display: none; height: 20px; left: 26px; opacity: 0.85; position: absolute; top: 1633px; width: 40px; z-index: 8675309;"></a><a href="http://www.pinterest.com/pin/create/extension/?url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.blogger.com%2Fblogger.g%3FblogID%3D7409799800186262281%23editor%2Fsrc%3Dsidebar&media=https%3A%2F%2Fi.gr-assets.com%2Fimages%2FS%2Fphoto.goodreads.com%2Fhostedimages%2F1411516130i%2F11243151._SY540_.jpg&xm=h&xv=sa1.37.01&xuid=ceex83WXcxS9&description=Nina%20Orlovskaya" style="background-color: transparent; background-image: url(data:image/png; border: none; cursor: pointer; display: none; height: 20px; left: 26px; opacity: 0.85; position: absolute; top: 1633px; width: 40px; z-index: 8675309;"></a><br />
<a href="http://www.pinterest.com/pin/create/extension/?url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.blogger.com%2Fblogger.g%3FblogID%3D7409799800186262281%23editor%2Ftarget%3Dpost%3BpostID%3D1543788734364117024%3BonPublishedMenu%3Dposts%3BonClosedMenu%3Dposts%3BpostNum%3D0%3Bsrc%3Dlink&media=https%3A%2F%2Fi.gr-assets.com%2Fimages%2FS%2Fphoto.goodreads.com%2Fhostedimages%2F1411516130i%2F11243151._SY540_.jpg&xm=h&xv=sa1.37.01&xuid=ceex83WXcxS9&description=" style="background-color: transparent; background-image: url(data:image/png; border: none; cursor: pointer; display: none; height: 20px; left: 26px; opacity: 0.85; position: absolute; top: 2466px; width: 40px; z-index: 8675309;"></a><a href="http://www.pinterest.com/pin/create/extension/?url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.blogger.com%2Fblogger.g%3FblogID%3D7409799800186262281%23editor%2Ftarget%3Dpost%3BpostID%3D1543788734364117024%3BonPublishedMenu%3Dposts%3BonClosedMenu%3Dposts%3BpostNum%3D0%3Bsrc%3Dlink&media=https%3A%2F%2Fi.gr-assets.com%2Fimages%2FS%2Fphoto.goodreads.com%2Fhostedimages%2F1411516130i%2F11243151._SY540_.jpg&xm=h&xv=sa1.37.01&xuid=ceex83WXcxS9&description=" style="background-color: transparent; background-image: url(data:image/png; border: none; cursor: pointer; display: none; height: 20px; left: 26px; opacity: 0.85; position: absolute; top: 2466px; width: 40px; z-index: 8675309;"></a>Ksenia Rychtyckahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16530042808165096336noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7409799800186262281.post-45018513643749133322016-03-06T20:37:00.001-08:002016-03-06T20:37:29.372-08:00Inspiration and Personal Feedback<div class="title" style="font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif; line-height: 1.1; margin-bottom: 0.5em;">
<span style="font-size: large;">July 21, 2013</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">It’s been much too long since I posted in this space but the spring and early summer swept by as I ventured out to local book clubs and events where Crossing The Border was the topic of discussion. Much like my experience of living in Ukraine, listening as avid readers discussed my fictional characters was wonderful and a bit surreal at the same time. When I’m writing I’m so focused on the world I’m creating that for a while everything else fades into the background. Once the writing is done and the work has been revised a multitude of ways, it’s time to share it with the rest of the world. Getting stories and poems published in literary journals is one of the greatest thrills for any writer but you usually don’t get personal feedback from your readers.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.kseniarychtycka.com/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2013/07/bookclubphoto.jpg" rel="nofollow" style="color: #00635d;"><img alt="" class="escapedImg" src="https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/photo.goodreads.com/hostedimages/1380951839i/3490155.jpg" style="border: 0px; float: left; margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; max-width: 613px;" /></a>So it was really eye-opening to take in others’ perspectives about Vera, Valeriy, Luba, Lina, Petro and the other characters inhabiting Crossing The Border. At times, there was lively engagement about why certain characters acted in the way they did or why the stories ended on a particular moment. One reader was worried about the elderly woman who braved the streets during the Orange Revolution to buy a cage for the lost parakeet that flew onto her balcony. Others described their favorite moments or the stories they connected with most. Some wondered if the stories were based on true experiences.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">As I explained, the inspiration for my stories came from various sources. Some were inspired by images that I couldn’t shake such as The Bell Tower where I kept visualizing an elderly man climbing up an old set of stairs. I had no idea at the time where that image came from or even what country the story would be set in. It was a fun process figuring it out. Orange in Bloom was inspired both by a wayward parakeet that I rescued while living in Ukraine and by a news article I read about elderly women who cooked food for the thousands of protesters camped out in downtown Kyiv during the Orange Revolution. There’s always a part of me embedded in each of the stories but fiction takes over as my characters come to life. That’s the exciting part of writing – not knowing what comes next.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">These real-life stories behind the writing of the book were recorded in a brief clip/montage that Megan Ammer filmed and edited during my book presentation at the Ukrainian Institute of Modern Art in Chicago:</span></div>
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<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XSJNqUK-KoY" rel="nofollow" style="color: #00635d;"><span style="font-size: large;">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XSJNqUK-KoY</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Many thanks to the UIMA for this wonderful opportunity and to the four book clubs in Detroit and Chicago who hosted me and/or selected Crossing The Border for their book pick of the month. I am so very humbled and happy by all the support and encouragement I have received from my readers and I am looking forward to meeting more of you at future events.</span></div>
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Ksenia Rychtyckahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16530042808165096336noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7409799800186262281.post-75314732654430797232016-03-06T20:24:00.000-08:002016-03-06T20:24:07.008-08:00Spotlight on Natalia Erehnah, Author of Swan Mothers<div class="title" style="line-height: 1.1; margin-bottom: 0.5em;">
<span style="font-size: large;">February 28, 2013</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.kseniarychtycka.com/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2013/02/SwanMothers2.jpg" rel="nofollow" style="color: #00635d;"><img alt="" class="escapedImg" src="https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/photo.goodreads.com/hostedimages/1380982254i/3666993.jpg" style="border: 0px; float: left; margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; max-width: 613px;" /></a>In an earlier blog, I talked about featuring other writers in this space from time to time. Today I’m spotlighting Natalia Erehnah, who recently published her book <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Swan-Mothers-Discovering-Parenting-Magnificent/dp/098563328X/ref=la_B009W3T1ZQ_1_1_title_0_main?ie=UTF8&qid=1361983193&sr=1-1" rel="nofollow" style="color: #00635d;" title="Swan Mothers">Swan Mothers: Discovering Our True Selves by Parenting Uniquely Magnificent Children.</a> Her book is fabulous on many levels. Swan Mothers is filled with wonderful insight, compassion and understanding as the author takes us on a journey through parenting special needs children. What enhanced the book even more is that the story is not only told through the author’s perspective but features other mothers, who in their own words, tell their stories so the reader is treated to various perspectives.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I’m the mother of a beautiful daughter who has special needs so this really hits close to home. I have to say that I was inspired and invigorated by the message of hope, acceptance and support throughout. Natalia Erehnah also shows various tips and techniques to handle stressful moments and highlights alternative methods of treatment. There are times when parents simply become overwhelmed by challenges that seem insurmountable. And yet in reading Swan Mothers, I felt comforted and strengthened. The book provides a pathway out of the darkness. I asked Natalia some questions about her book and writing process.</span></div>
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<strong><span style="font-size: large;">Can you talk a little about how Swan Mothers came to life and also how easy or difficult it was to reveal personal family details, i.e., did your role as a mother ever interfere with your role as a writer?</span></strong></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.kseniarychtycka.com/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2013/02/natalia5.jpg" rel="nofollow" style="color: #00635d;"><img alt="" class="escapedImg" src="https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/photo.goodreads.com/hostedimages/1380982254i/3666994.jpg" style="border: 0px; float: left; margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; max-width: 613px;" /></a>In the fall of 2009, I moved to Wisconsin with my family. Having recently earned diplomas in Homeotherapeutics and Bioenergetics from the Institute of Natural Health Sciences, I hung a virtual shingle and began learning how to run a business by listening to free teleseminars. During one such teleseminar, the speaker proposed writing a book, and I immediately knew I would do so. Synchronistically, a Facebook friend posted that her writing coach was offering a writeshop for writers who were “at any point in the book writing process.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">At the writeshop, I was the only person who did not have a clear idea of what she would be writing. I knew that it would be related to my parenting experiences, autism, and the natural health sciences, but had not written a single word. I began writing in that writeshop, and went back for more, eventually joining a writers’ group led by Julie Tallard Johnson. Throughout the year-long meetings, Swan Mothers was written, critiqued and edited.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I made motherhood and writing work together by writing while my children were away from home, either at camp in the summer or at school. Now that I am homeschooling again, I find it much more challenging to create space for writing.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Regarding revealing details. I am a private person, so I am surprised to report that it was easy to share my story. I believe that ease came because the events relayed had been resolved before I started writing. The only aspect of concern was that my story was about the journey of parenting, and thus, revealed information about my family. I used pseudonyms for my children’s names and a pen name to afford my family some privacy.</span></div>
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<strong><span style="font-size: large;">The story of The Ugly Duckling is told throughout the book in snippets at the start of each chapter and obviously ties in with your book title. You also use the tale of the classic hero’s journey and compare it with the Swan Mother’s hero journey. It is a nice juxtaposition that connects with the overall personal stories of raising a child with special needs. What led you to this structure?</span></strong></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">During the second writeshop I attended, my writing coach related the process of writing a book to embarking on a Hero’s Journey. The term Hero’s Journey was new to me. As Julie explained the phases of the journey, I realized that this archetypal pattern described my journey through parenting perfectly. The structure for Swan Mothers came together within minutes. While writing, I was looking for a story to use as a model for explaining the Hero’s Journey to readers. As I read The Ugly Duckling in<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Women-Wolves-Clarissa-Pinkola-Est%C3%A9s/dp/0345409876/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1362081586&sr=8-3&keywords=clarissa+pinkola+estes" rel="nofollow" style="color: #00635d;" title="women who run with wolves"> Clarissa Pinkola Estes’ Women Who Run with the Wolves</a>, I was highlighting, underlining, circling, and writing notes in the margins. I had found my story. The title emerged later, during another workshop.</span></div>
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<em><span style="font-size: large;">(My writing coach, Julie Tallard Johnson, has published nine books, including Wheel of Initiation: Practices for Releasing Your Inner Light and The Thundering Years: Rituals and Sacred Wisdom for Teens. In November 2013, Zero Point Agreement: How to Be Who You Already Are will be released. She publishes a free weekly e-zine for writers which I highly recommend. You can subscribe at her website: <a href="http://julietallardjohnson.com/" rel="nofollow" style="color: #00635d;" title="julie tallard">http://julietallardjohnson.com/</a>).</span></em></div>
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<strong><span style="font-size: large;">What discoveries did you make, either as a writer or as a mother, during the writing of Swan Mothers?</span></strong></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I was surprised how easy it was to write a lot in a short period of time (I wrote all of the “My Story” sections in two weeks while my children were at camp), and how long it could take to write even a few book-worthy words. I discovered that it was almost impossible for me to write at the times I set aside for writing, and that if I did not write at those times, I did not make progress with the book. Writing could flow easily or seem stalled for days or weeks.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I discovered that meeting with a group and having a good writing coach was vital to my process. Committing to write a certain amount of words per month, knowing my partner would be reading, helped me stay on track.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Due to the support of my group and coach, and to the fact that the book wanted to be written, writing was mostly easy. The road to publishing was more challenging.</span></div>
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<strong><span style="font-size: large;">I love your opening sequence and will quote a few lines when closing. You have a very engaging style of writing. What writers have inspired you? </span></strong></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I fell in love with books as a child, and the writers who inspire me include my childhood favorites: Madeleine L’Engle, Katherine Patterson, E. L. Konnigsburg, and C. S. Lewis.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I read for pleasure, and will read almost anything with a good story line. My current favorite authors include: Elizabeth Cunningham, Kathleen McGowan, Paulo Coelho, Marc Allen, Judith Prager Simon.</span></div>
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<strong><span style="font-size: large;">What other books would you recommend for anyone who has a connection with a special needs child and is searching for support and more information?</span></strong></div>
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<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Raising-Your-Spirited-Child-Rev/dp/0060739665/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1362082008&sr=1-1&keywords=raising+you+spirited+childhttp://" rel="nofollow" style="color: #00635d;" title="spirited child"><span style="font-size: large;">Raising Your Spirited Child by Mary Sheedy Kurcinka</span></a></div>
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<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Empowered-Autism-Parenting-Celebrating-Defending/dp/0470475870/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1362082075&sr=1-1&keywords=empowered+autism+parenting" rel="nofollow" style="color: #00635d;" title="empowered autism parenting"><span style="font-size: large;">Empowered Autism Parenting by William Stillman</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Drug-Free-Approach-Asperger-Syndrome-Autism/dp/0964065460/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1360391298&sr=8-3&keywords=aspergers+homeopathy" rel="nofollow" style="color: #00635d;">Drug-Free Approach to Asperger Syndrome and Autism: Homeopathic Care for Exceptional Kids</a> by Judyth Reichenberg-Ullman, Robert Ullman, Ian Luepker and Bernard Rimland</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I list many of my favorite resources in the appendix of Swan Mothers. I also suggest seeking out bloggers and authors with the same or similar diagnoses as that of your child for an invaluable perspective on what it is like to live with a diagnosed condition.</span></div>
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<strong><span style="font-size: large;">You have a website at <a href="http://www.swanmothers.com/" rel="nofollow" style="color: #00635d;">www.swanmothers.com</a> and a Facebook page titled <a href="http://www.facebook.com/#!/pages/Blessed-by-Autism-Uniquely-Magnificent-Children/174258299260221" rel="nofollow" style="color: #00635d;" title="facebook autism">Blessed by (Autism) Uniquely Magnificent Children</a>, as well as a Facebook Swan Mothers Group (request to join). What’s next in store in terms of your writing and your efforts in helping parents of special needs kids?</span></strong></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I am developing workshops and retreats based on Swan Mothers. I dream of a camp-type setting for retreats, where mothers can explore their parenting journey.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I am also working on two fiction books which weave together the stories of a modern-day woman, Anastasia Sophia, who is discovering herself through journaling (in the first book) and blogging (in the second book), and Talitha, who lived so long ago that archeologists have not yet discovered evidence of her people.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Thank you for inviting me to blog with you!</span></div>
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<strong><span style="font-size: large;">You’re very welcome Natalia! Thanks for sharing your thoughts and insight. I’ll close with a few opening lines from Swan Mothers:</span></strong></div>
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<em><span style="font-size: large;">For years I was visited by this recurring dream. I am driving south on a bridge in the Florida Keys. My children are in the minivan with me. The sky’s blueness is intensified by the whiteness of scattered, puffy clouds. Brilliant sparkles dance on the surface of the turquoise and seafoam waters. I am content, immersed in the peace, might, and splendor of the ocean around me.</span></em></div>
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<em><span style="font-size: large;">Suddenly, my car is driving on air, as if on an invisible road running parallel to the bridge. I look around, terrified, and the pounding of my heart jolts me awake. </span></em></div>
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<em><span style="font-size: large;">Why is my heart pounding? Why did I panic? Nothing was amiss. The car was not plummeting toward the water. The sea and sky were as blue and beautiful as the moment before. My surroundings seemed the same. Yet the bridge had disappeared from under me.</span></em></div>
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Ksenia Rychtyckahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16530042808165096336noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7409799800186262281.post-13285947239069272482016-03-06T05:32:00.000-08:002016-03-06T12:36:39.332-08:00Immigrant Fiction -- My Story<h2 class="date groupDate" style="color: #aaaaaa; font-weight: normal; margin: 4px 0px 1em;">
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<span style="font-size: large;">January 6, 2013</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #181818; font-size: large;">Now that Crossing The Border is out in the world, I’ve been asked some interesting questions about the meaning behind the title I selected, as well as other authors’ influences on my work, and even if my Ukrainian background will play a prominent role in my future writing. You can check out my interview with Patti Abbott </span><a href="http://pattinase.blogspot.com/2012/11/say-something-good-about-detroit.html" rel="nofollow" style="color: #00635d;">here</a><span style="color: #181818; font-size: large;">, but for now I’d like to reflect a little on how important it was for me to discover other contemporary writers who came from different cultures and backgrounds, and interwove their personal histories into their fiction.</span></span></h2>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I grew up in Hamtramck, Michigan, a little city in the middle of Detroit, which was primarily populated with Polish, Ukrainian, Yugoslavian and Albanian immigrants at that time. I spoke Ukrainian at home, learned Polish choice words from my friends down the street, and played kickball in the alley with the Albanian kids from the next block over. My life was multicultural from early on, and yet when I first got to college, the stories we read and discussed didn’t reflect the diversity I had grown up with.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">When I moved to Chicago, my literary world opened up and all of a sudden writing about my Ukrainian background was what I wanted to focus on. One day <a href="http://harrymarkpetrakis.com/" rel="nofollow" style="color: #00635d;">Harry Mark Petrakis</a>, a Greek-American writer who had grown up in Chicago, came to Columbia College to give a reading and talk about his work. He was very dynamic and blew me away with both his presentation and the excerpts he was sharing with us. I remember that he was loud and funny, expressive and inspirational all at once. His books are filled with Greek-American characters and his vibrant cultural background is interwoven seamlessly throughout. I walked out of the auditorium that evening very excited and happy. Somehow that evening reinforced what I wanted to do in my own writing.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Afterward, as I started working on my stories, I tried finding other Ukrainian-American contemporary writers, but at that time in the early 90s, I didn’t know of any. I suppose I wanted camaraderie and to see if other writers from my background were tackling the same issues I was wrestling with. A couple of years later I discovered<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Askold-Melnyczuk/e/B000APTAFG" rel="nofollow" style="color: #00635d;"> Askold Melnyczuk </a>in the pages of a writer’s magazine, and in 1994, his wonderful debut novel What Is Told was published. Then in a small bookstore in Vancouver, I pulled out a collection of short stories by Ukrainian-Canadian author <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Janice-Kulyk-Keefer/e/B001HOTTDM/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1357493411&sr=1-2-ent" rel="nofollow" style="color: #00635d;">Janice Kulyk Keefer</a>. I still remember that moment in the bookstore when I stood in the corner and leafed through the pages, eyes soaking up the words. Now, some 20 years later, there are many American and Canadian writers of varying immigrant backgrounds. It’s wonderful to be able to travel the world, as well as specific regions of our own country in this way, and discover amazing new writers.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">That thrill of discovery–new writers, new worlds or even familiar worlds revisited—has all become easier with a simple click on a search engine. Personally I have fond memories of scouring bookstores for interesting new titles but there’s no denying how easy and effective the Internet is when you’re in search of something. And now there’s listmania and listopia and I am having great fun making my own themed lists of books. With that, I’ll close with a link to <a href="http://www.amazon.com/lm/R39GJB7DDZL2J1/ref=cm_pdp_lm_all_itms" rel="nofollow" style="color: #00635d;">Eastern European Immigrant Fiction </a>that I recently compiled for anybody interested in checking out great fiction with this focus. I’ll feature other lists from time to time since I’d like to spotlight other writers in this blog as well.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Happy reading!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Ksenia</span></div>
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Ksenia Rychtyckahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16530042808165096336noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7409799800186262281.post-71903396723717216412016-03-05T22:03:00.000-08:002016-03-06T11:56:44.975-08:00Welcome<div class="body mediumText reviewText" style="color: #181818; font-family: merriweather, georgia, serif; line-height: 1.3; margin-bottom: 1em;">
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<span style="font-size: large;">My website was hacked some time ago and I'm finally getting back to recreating my blog. I'll be reposting some of my earlier blogs here in my new space on Blogger.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">October 2012 </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">It’s been an amazing couple of years for me on the literary front, and after some of life’s unexpected delays, I am very excited and happy to announce that my short story collection Crossing The Border has been released by Little Creek Books (an imprint of Jan-Carol Publishing, who also publish an awesome monthly magazine called Voice for Women: <a href="http://www.voicemagazineforwomen.com/" rel="nofollow" style="color: #00635d;">http://www.voicemagazineforwomen.com/</a>).</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">This collection has been years in the making with the first seeds planted back when I was working on my master’s in Creative Writing at Columbia College Chicago’s Fiction Writing Department. I tucked away some of my writings in the drawer, not certain if I would revisit them in the future. Sometime after leaving Chicago, I found an editorial job in Kyiv and moved there, wanting to experience the excitement and reality of an independent Ukraine.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I first set foot in Ukraine in the summer of 1990 when it was still part of the Soviet Union. It was a fast-paced, exhilarating and emotional three-week trip but I knew I wanted to go back. I knew I wanted to live in Kyiv as the tour bus zipped us past hilly slopes and golden-domed churches. I knew I wanted to live there when the bus dropped us off impromptu at a rally at what was then called October Revolution Square (later renamed Independence Square). Hundreds of people were rallying for an independent Ukraine. The stores were bare but the people I met on the streets were welcoming and curious about Westerners and went out of their way to show us the sights, some even inviting me and my traveling companions into their homes. I loved the sense of 11th-century history embedded in the architecture and streets of Kyiv as I have long been fascinated by ancient and early medieval times.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Six years later I was living in Kyiv and my writing mainly focused on jotting down notes and ideas in my journal and writing some travel and short nonfiction pieces. When I moved back to the United States nearly four years later, I started writing new pieces and revisiting a few of the old stories I had tucked away. Crossing The Border was finally on its way and I am thrilled and a little nervous about sharing it with the world.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I look forward to your comments and reviews, and most of all, the opportunity to share and exchange thoughts and ideas…..</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Until then,</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Ksenia</span></div>
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Ksenia Rychtyckahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16530042808165096336noreply@blogger.com0