Do you have a Poetic License?                                                                      

No, you say. You don’t. I have just a Driving License.

How funny. But I do. And I will tell you why. As poetic license means deviation from fact, form, or rule by an artist or writer for the sake of the effect gained. See freedom.

In my “Sinning Genie” I tried to rediscover my true self. “Who am I? What am I sensitive to? What is my definition of Beauty?

Here in Canada my life is taking a different turn. Though still retaining some of the scruples of the Past, I have developed a new grasp of sensuality. Within me and a new found freedom a twinge of guilt remains sometimes but nevertheless Sinning Genie is out of a jar. Long live liberty and love!

This is one of my poems:                                                                   

Where Are We Streaming To?

To make my day

It will take a singing sparrow,

A lovely little fellow,

Conduct the orchestra of my morning thoughts,

And visions rising over the furrow,

Along with Denis Tito, the first traveler in Universe,

And the reverie, and Denis in reality,

Floating among the stars and asteroids,

In friendship with Russian astronaut-humanoids,                        

Where are we streaming to?

To nowhere?

To nothing?

To embrace

With our tiny brains

The global mess.

July 21, 2001.

Welcome to the country of our childhood where everything seems real, dreams always come true and adventures are surrounding you.We are all born from childhood. As far as I remember myself I started composing rhymes at very early age when I was five, hardly reaching the height of a small desk. It was my Dad who first put a pen in my hand and gave me the first ABC lessons, organizing the writing pad in front of me, setting me onto the stool with two cushions above in such a way that my legs wee hanging down freely in the air.“Sit and write down a letter to your Grandma in Rostov-on-Don”, said he persistently. And I scribbled down: “I was writing in a hurry,
Scarcely falling off the chair,                                   
Granny, do not much worry,
If my letter’s not so clear”.
Actually my Grandma did not worry, on the contrary, she got glad having received a clumsy funny letter of mine. In the future as time went by she encouraged me in writing poems in any possible ways.That’s how things went on in those sweet old days. Nowadays I am a Grandma myself and it is the book with the stories or my Grandson, one illustration is shown here from this book.

Every person has his or her life story, I believe. It is a matter of collecting it and putting it together. That’s what I have done when I first came to Canada twelve years ago to get married to a British-Canadian John Pattison, who was curious about me, my life in Russia in those times when there was an iron curtain between West and East. I was from the Eastern part, he was from the Western. For the first time in my life I was idle, did not work neither full nor part time, I came by visitor visa without the work permit. This is Canada, not America. Sitting at home and cooking while my husband is gone for work is not a big deal. He saw me writing letters back to St. Petersburg, Bryansk, my native towns, and then thoroughly translating to him. Upon completion of such a business he used to ask me in surprise: “How can you write about the same every day life finding all the time newer and newer words? Where can you find them? You are able to write a book, your own life story. We are sick and tired of big politicians’, sportsmen’s stories. We here want to listen to rank-and-file people’s stories like you, Val. Go ahead and write, you can do it, I see it to myself.” And I did it.
Born on March 17, 1940, St. Patrick’s Day, being celebrated by Irish people and not only by them, everywhere in the world, except Russia, I had a better chance to succeed in life than there plus a very good moral support from my husband who was my first proof reader and left my narrative as it was in English for Canadian people as himself. So it is not just a personal narrative of myself, my family, it is a Soviet Union history, starting with Revolution in 1917-1921 when my mama lived and the 20-th century and social conditions of that period. Because without the country who raised you up, your own family who fed you and supported you through all your span life, we are big little zeros. My book is my way to say: “Thank you to all in Russia and in Canada who gave me inspiration and keeps doing it now, who fills me with a great sense of real life.”

Napoleon Cake in my Cookbook “A Firebird Cornucopia of Russian Delights”, 310 recipes of former Soviet Republics which always maintained their national and favorite dishes.These recipes became a part of everyday Russian Soviet life. Today I have looked at Napoleon cakes recipes on the Internet and found a great number of them in Japan, China, France, England and in many other countries. It seems to me that everybody likes Napoleon. Even some discuss the origin of the name of this cake. All jokes aside! Why is it so? And what is special in my cookbook among hundreds being sold at the bookstores and in the grocery shops? Simple recipes first because my mama and my grandma as well as myself were always in short of time to cook but our family members were waiting for a nice healthy food at the dinner table.Second of all, do you remember I mentioned before it is a beauty – a souvenir book, filled with nostalgic memories and this is why it is a conversational piece and a creative guide to the true meaning of the Russian everyday cooking. From ancient to the present time food among Russian people has always been more than a commodity; it is a way in which folks celebrate the feast of life and the passing into death. Food is sacred in Orthodoxy, it is blessed before eating, nourishing both the physical and spiritual. God bless you and your endeavors to create so many beautiful Russian delights.On page 142 one can see the recipe of cake Napoleon.

The packages of my five or less books in electronic edition are supposed to be printed first, then read, discussed and kept in the families for a long time just for fun. I expect the feedback from you sharing your experience and life story as I am sure that each and everyone is unique in our common Universe and has something to share. As you believe my books are a piece of conversation and a beauty as well. Imagine that my site is a cozy living room with the fire place and we are sitting in comfortable arm chairs and chit chatting about life, children and sharing stories…Tea or coffee, maybe juice, with home made cookies or muffins are nearby. What a wonderful meeting! Subscription fee is 200$ for start and can be more if it is possible, including costs for printing, binding and shipping to your homes. My signature will be inside the book. Let us try it, perhaps you will enjoy this!

My verses in “Sinning Genie” are my prayers to God.Who is the Beauty, and Beauty will conquer the world, as was written by one of the greatest Russian writers Dostoevsky, the Mantle of the Prophet.Adoring his crazy creations I have composed my own World of Beauty which I am sharing with you, my dearest cherished reader.

My Russian Cook Book. In Russia, from ancient to the present time, food has always been more than a commodity; it is a way in which people celebrate the feast of life and the passing into death. Food is sacred in Orthodoxy, it is blessed before eating, nourishing both the physical and spiritual. God bless you and your endeavor to create so many beautiful Russian delights.
“To the Horizon and Beyond”, Life Story. Born on March 17, 1940 in Russia to an ordinary working family of the Nickolay and Maria Filins, Valentina graduated from Orel University in 1962 with major: Linguistics. All her life she was interested in languages, history, arts. Valentina’s Russian ancestry is part of her cultural and spiritual self and that’s what contributes to the peculiarity of her essay “To the Horizon and Beyond”. Written from her heart, the feelings and sensations in the book reflect what it is to have a Slavic soul: spiritual and mysterious.

“Granny’s Tales for Little Glebochka ( in English and in Russian) Welcome to the country of your childhood where everything seems real, dreams always come true and adventures are surrounding you. We are all born from childhood, one loves or does not remember his or her early years it depends. But definitely years of our growing up will leave an imprint on our future lives.The children’s book “Granny’s Tales for Little Glebochka” I published is a Birthday present for my grandson, 1-st Grade student in St. Petersburg, Russia, wishing him best successes at school and in martial art sports.”