Traditionally, I decorate my home for the Christmas Holidays around the 1st Advent, which usually takes place on a Sunday shortly after Thanksgiving.
I relish in that weekend, when everything begins for me. When the atmosphere of my home changes as if by magic and becomes saturated by colours and illumination. The sentiment of that weekend is always the same and has a transcending effect on my mood and my state of mind.
While I try to bring that spellbound feel of Christmas into my house, I am always taken back in time, recalling the holiday home of my childhood, when my mother would deck the halls in red, green and golden. My love for aesthetics and the sense of creating a safe haven was instigated during those years, as I watched her transforming our home into a fairytale of light and colours.
It was without a doubt then that my love for this beautiful time in the year was born.
I was born under the Tatra Mountains, to a Czech father and a Slovak mother. I grew up in Sweden and lived almost ten years in North Carolina.
More than a decade ago my line of work took me to Denmark, where I live today. My home, which I share with the man that holds my heart, lies in the northerly part of a Danish peninsula, in the proximity of endless, wide and pristine westbound sandy beaches, surrounded by the rough and untamed North Sea.
My writing is defined by reflections on my cosmopolitan past and my intriguing present. Ultimately I try to convey in words and images my personal thoughts and feelings about life itself, with all its magic, natural splendour and the beauty of simple pleasures.