Please join Synkroniciti in welcoming back Bulgarian poet, writer, and visual artist Gabriela Manolova. We are thrilled to feature an artwork and a poem on the subject of “Dreams.”
Celestial Dance is a watercolor and ink work on two side-by-side journal pages. A fanciful air ship, or perhaps the top of a tall tower, straddles the divide between the pages. On the left is a sleeping moon face, and on the right is a wakened sun, the air in between these objects is cloudy with ink. It’s a delightfully stylized rendering that recalls tradition with unique detailing. I see the air vessel as a symbol of the soul, poised between light and darkness.
“The Night I Thought I Would Be Killed By Morning” is a powerful poem about the trauma that results from being attacked by a spouse or loved one. “Sometimes, it’s better to remember just bits and pieces/ They’re easier to shake off than the whole/ But sometimes, it’s worse—small and agile,/ tricky little critters can crawl into the closest corners.” With stunning vulnerability, she speaks of triggers: sights, sounds, smells, and of how the experience doesn’t end when the situation has passed, but returns unbidden. And yet there is goodness in being alive and learning to know and love oneself. Gabriela’s imagery is cutting and her sibilants and alliterative music are full of motion that captivates our full attention.
Many people around us are survivors of domestic violence–it’s important that they are able to share their stories in a safe space when they feel ready to do so and it’s important that we are ready to listen without offering platitudes or diminishing their pain.
Experience Gabriela’s artwork and her story in Synkroniciti’s “Dreams” issue, available for purchase here: https://synkroniciti.com/the-magazine/purchase-individual-issues/.
Usually a prose girl, Gabriela Manolova turns to poetry whenever something too fleeting or painful to be fleshed out in novel-length demands to be expressed. “I approach prose as problem-solving, an intentional, analytical exploration. Writing poetry is altogether different. Like running into a sharp edge in the dark—a line hits you, and suddenly, you’ve found something you didn’t even realize you were looking for. My work’s kept circling back to the same themes, pointing me to that which remains unresolved. Love, grief, identity—all the unavoidable things, really.” When Gabriela isn’t poring over her manuscript, she’s bopping to jazz or hiking mountain trails—grounding her mind through movement and letting her feet take over for a change.