Have you ever considered how many dramas unfold while someone is slicing potatoes or beets to add to their Borscht? Have you thought about the women who, possessing nothing but a kitchen table, pour their souls out during the long winter nights? What troubles them? What personal dramas, too daunting to share even with their husbands, weigh on them? Are we all so similar that kitchens have replaced therapists' offices, where we create a safe space for ourselves? It's said that a writer's task is not to tell but to show you life. I invite you to kitchen-table discussions where women and men open up, revealing their most intimate fears and reflecting on their lives while seated in their kitchens.

Autorentext

Born in the early 2000s in Russia's Povolzhie region, my early years were framed by the transformation from Soviet relics to modernity, where old Volgas gave way to foreign cars, and childhood adventures unfolded by the river and under the sun with vanilla ice cream in hand. Moving to Moscow introduced me to a city of contrasts, from historic decay to the unforgiving pace of a metropolis. Conversations with my grandmother in the kitchen, surrounded by the aroma of traditional Russian cooking, were foundational, teaching me self-reflection and igniting my love for storytelling. Dostoevsky and Chekhov became my guides through the complexities of human emotion, enriching my love for storytelling that had begun with my first story at five. Now in Germany, I'm embracing a new chapter where writing continues to be my sanctuary and a bridge to understanding the world and myself.