How It Got Started

The Roots

Superstition defined many experiences of my life. I don't know why I believed them, but I was definately afraid to defy them. The most overused form of superstition in my house was the way we would wish each other Good Luck. Strangely enough, my mother would tell me "Не пуха, не пера!" which oddly translates "Not a down! not a feather!" and the required response giving me life-long permission to send my mother to Hell: "Go to Hell". The best equivalent I could think of is "Break a Leg", or "Knock on Wood", although the latter was used in much different circumstances. Wether I attribute my lucky life to be the product of this special spell I continue to exchange with my mother, or not, I have always wanted to share my thoughts and my experiences with the world. Wish me good luck!