Author: IvonaBi

A Slovenian, living between Montpellier, Paris and Ljubljana. Lover of life, books, travel, music, art, philosophy, and love. Passionate and numb in different intervals. Above all : curious. 
I travel to survive the jungle of my soul. On ordinary days, I just savour city streets to ease it.
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The Amazine is celebrating its second anniversary!

And I’m quite amazed how it has been steadily growing, ever since its humble launch, into such an incredible community of those embarking on the quest of joy and wonder & embracing the bittersweetness of our lives. I still think that, maybe, what this really comes down to is deciding over and over again to challenge the indifference and apathy of a certain world – and our own. With every question, thought, word, story, scene, sound, or anything else we cherish and create. So, yes – despite all the grief – our wonder is still very much alive and kicking.

I’m grateful beyond words to every single one who decided to join and support this community in any way, even just briefly. But a very special mention goes to my current team members and wonderful poets: thank you, my dear co-editor Mia, for all the hard and brilliant work in the last year, and a warm welcome to Amanda, our new (proof)reader!

Sending you all lots of love,

Iva

Piece by Piece

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by Ivona Bozik

What is it about that bubble we create when we get to an unknown place? The combination of the distance from the familiar and the newness of circumstances, conditions that make grow different aspects of ourselves. For some we knew they existed silently, some we ignored. During every trip, longer than a single weekend, something in me moves towards a certain direction, builds up another foundation in me, brick by brick, an understanding enriches its effects. Yet, I find it hard to pinpoint what exactly that means.

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Life’s Shadow Play

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by Ivona Bozik

Beauty has always seemed delicate to me. Just as life, it is of an elusive and melancholic nature, even more, it seems to be built on a certain kind of weakness, maybe even helplessness. For me, there is always some sadness in beauty, just as much as there is no sadness without beauty. I once shared this belief with someone and he replied that was because we found beauty so much bigger than us. I felt there was more, though.

It is a paradox, yet this play of indirect contrasts shows us how profound joy and profound sorrow coexist in the world. How separating one from the other is somehow cruel and sinful, and most of all it is blind and sturdy.

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