About

I am Erna Grcic, the author of the poetry collection Beneath the Surface and the writer behind this blog. I spend my time gathering Slavic myths, reading books, taking photos, and writing poetry. Additionally, I am a passionate entrepreneur and a somewhat unconventional marketing manager.

Creativity has always been the main aspect of my life, and I strive to centre everything I do around the need to create in one form or another.

Currently, I’m juggling between managing my digital marketing consultancy—where we provide creative solutions to business owners and teach entrepreneurs, artists, teachers, coaches, and all sorts of small biz owners how to make the most of digital marketing—collaborating with my sister on our bespoke home decor and furniture shop, keeping my cats happy, and writing a novel inspired by ancient Slavic mythology under the working title The Hatching.

And this is what this blog is all about: living a creative life in its many forms and facets.

The Story of My Cats

My four ginger lions were all adopted here in Dubai, starting with Ricky whom I adopted in April 2021 and since then he’s become my cream-coloured familiar. He’s occasionally grumpy, very serious about his nap times, and likes hanging around book stacks, so we get along quite well.

Ricky was found in Dubai’s industrial area. He was abandoned, shaved, underfed, riddled with ear mites, and living off of the contents of the labourers’ lunch boxes. He was lucky to be spotted and picked up by a cat shelter and to end up on an adoption day organised by my local pet shop.

I arrived around 20 minutes before closing time. I was just planning to ‘have a look around.’ And then I saw this little grouch. He’d been there all day, and nobody took him. Many cats got adopted, but the combination of still-healing ear mite infection, fresh snip, a couple of bald patches, shaved fur, and painful undernourishment, did not make Ricky an appealing sight. But I only saw those beautiful brown eyes, the pink nose, the gorgeous fur that just needed some time to grow back, and I wasn’t afraid of a handful of ear mites. And since then, Ricky has been in my heart and on my shelves.

Almost a year later, in March 2022, I went for my evening run, and when I was already ready to head home, a little cream coloured face peeked from the bushes next to the park gate. I crouched, said ‘Come here’ and he did. Jerry was a ball of matted fur, several bite marks, a few head injuries, and a huge wound running the entire length of his tail. I didn’t think. Some things are meant to be and they feel that way instantaneously. I picked him up – he didn’t resist – and took him home. After three months he was fully healed and he finally relaxed enough to enjoy his new home. Now, he’s my little shadow and the gentlest and sweetest cat I’ve ever met. Christmas is Jerry’s favourite time of the year – he just loves playing with the baubles.

Jamie, my little Scottish princess, made a terrible ruckus in a friend’s back yard around 5AM in April 2023. After she managed to wake up the entire household, she had a hearty breakfast, and got herself a new family. She is the sweetest little girl who was abandoned, severely malnourished, and luckily, loud and persistent enough to grab the attention of the kindest people who didn’t stop until they found her a new home.

Now she rules over the couch, promotes our bookish products, and keeps reminding us that early bird catches the worm around 6AM every morning.

And finally, Gina, my little garbage gremlin, joined us in May 2023. She followed me home from a run huffing and puffing for 3 kilometres. I fed her and gave her water. She was very aggressive towards the other cats in the house so I had to let her go, but tomorrow, Gina was back. Soon, I realised she was living under my car and digging through the garbage bins for food. May in Dubai means temperatures of around 35-40 degrees Celsius, she’s a longhair, and it was only a matter of time until pest control got hold of her.

I think that Gina had the same misfortune as many purebred cats in the UAE – she was a cute kitten, bought as a gift for someone’s kids, who, when she proved to be easily annoyed and quick to scratch, got kicked out of her home. I knew she didn’t stand a chance in the streets, and there were few people who would adopt her and keep with her difficult personality. So I took her in. She was in isolation for almost a month, until she got used to us. Then she met the other cats, and slowly got integrated into our household. It took a lot of time and patience to show Gina that she’s safe, that nobody will grab her or pet her unless she wants to be petted, that other cats won’t fight for food. Now she’s happy and relaxed. She gives us kisses in the morning, fights with Jerry over who gets Amazon cardboard boxes, and plays chase with Ricky.

Henry was adopted in Sarajevo in August 2015. He was around 2 years old at the time, and he had ended up at the shelter because his previous owner had passed and her children lived abroad so they told the vet to have him put down. Luckily, the vet is friends with my mum and knowing that we were having a hard time getting over the passing of our old cat Sigmund, she suggested that we take Henry.

Henry was named by his previous owner, because he was her king (she used to call him that, the vet said) and because he was the chubbiest kitten in the litter when she picked him up from the street in her neighbourhood. He was, and still is, an immensely beloved cat. Henry mourned the loss of his owner for a long time. He absolutely hated being adopted, and it took ages for him to finally relax and assume the reign of his new dominion – my mum’s house. He’s taken his rightful place on her pillow and in our hearts where he rules with a velvet paw.

A Word from the Author:

‘Literature is my work and my favourite pastime. My first literary experience had started almost thirty years ago, during a particularly bloody war, when in the basement of our heavily bombarded house, my mother read to me in the flickering light of a candle in order to pull me away from the roars and blasts that shook us every now and then and make me fall asleep. Since then, literature has become a safe haven, a source of peace and security in the midst of the everyday uproar.’