D A N I L O P E S H I K A N
Site Map, a bird-eye view of Danilo Peshikan’s website
- Home: Peshikan, his strange stories and a controversial novel
- Books: Peshikan’s weltanschauung on themes rarely spoken about
- Filiad excerpt: An aloof father growing Lolita-like obsession
- Stranger excerpt: Prophet or a phantom enshrouded in visions
- Shadows excerpt: Skittering shadow of an invisible dog
- Author: Peshikan, his books, unique skills, and writing mastery
- Contact me: Contact me if you wish to comment or share your opinion
DANILO PESHIKAN'S LIFE IN PICTURES
One of the streets in Sofia, the city that spread beneath Danilo’s window. A city where “the facades were shifting, pulsating and radiating warm human light; behind every window lurked a different fate. Beneath each roof’s curve, behind every corner lay a multitude of dramas, someone’s fate being sealed, fury and fervor rippled forth!”
Paris, a city that once harbored so many great minds from France and around the world. A place, which “with its passing reveals a varietal alternation of one ‘civil king,’ one bourgeois emperor and three republics—all these announced by three revolutions. Paris, where life appears as meaningful as a kiss in a brothel.”
Greece was the dream destination born from stories about Aristotle, Alexander the Great, Homer, Socrates, and all the greatest people in Greece who left their indelible impression on philosophy, arts, literature, science, and politics. “Phantoms that had followed me everywhere, which I had named and adopted at some point in my life.”
Glenelg, a South Australian seaside town mesmerized Danilo with the peaceful dose of its seaside charm, the “rosy milk of the horizon and opal color of the sky, and the late afternoon sunrays which gently caressed his skin. Underneath their tenderness, he suddenly felt like he was equipped with something that would last him a lifetime.”
The “Pelicans Pier” in front of Peshikan's home, was his last peaceful harbor. The big birds graciously swooped over the pier when “the sky above showed no rally of cawing ravens or gathering of grumbling gods”. Perching on the rails they observed the author “wandering between a pleasure-dream and a nightmare, with the key of knowledge thrown into the deep sea”.
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