Find me if you can!

Bucharest winter sunset

Stones

She's looking for the stars through stones which were humans ones as Grigore Maior, a history teacher, used to sing me. Walls that are on the verge of falling down, remote district and the stories told by the way we are on. It was a broken promise... but the stones didn't let us to forget... we found the stars in a place of nowhere...burst into laughing, stones were tickling her throat, stars were drowning in her eyes. 

Street music/ Odyssey

 

On the way. Sofia. Bulgary. Last summer. Never looking for art. Art just strikes out on the street everywhere. It's an optical problem. It's the same when you hear the music of the street or of the forest without being a musician. They say "it's just noise, there are just birds". I mean you see art without being an artist because you have a special built-in organ for that or you simply want to see it. What is art? What is the sake of art? But what is the sake of sake? Asks the old Maiorescu.

The rithms of Bulgary. I miss them. Not the national music, but the amazing people i've met there, the experiences i've had there. 

Now turning back to the present. I see that for me it's harder to stay home after being away for some time. It's like not finding my place. Here are the people i love and i care about. As a travelling-lover, i discover that staying home is like a new journey because we have to renew the links with our roots, with our old self. We are like Ulises coming back to Ithaca. We find the place and people changed. We have to regain our identity and our right to come to the place we belong to. We have to be disguised  by the serene Athena before revealing our new self.  Odyssey or the art of coming back. That's why Homer never dies. That's why home is not only a place to come back, but also a place to go to.

a little bit of magic - matrioska

sing me, my little doll! Imagine you are the size of a matrioska! Imagine your life in a matrioska closed in a matrioska closed in another matrioska. Your unique moment of happiness  would be that of your own discovery. only when they open the doll you see the light as in the first day of life, as if there is your birth with every flow of light...

Who's there?

Old houses always mean stories. My grandma is the best storyteller i have ever known. It could be her age (91 or so) that she remember every single detail of her life, but what matters is how she can introduce you in a new world while telling. It is like lifting you up in a new universe with people you know or you heard about but who would never be the same cause they will have the identity of characters in my grandma's stories. She always make the voices and her stories have a kind of moral or a hidden meaning. She definitely has a gift, the gift of making her life one of the most enchanting story for her nephews.

Linden Flowers

Let my life if you want, i just wanna smell the linden flowers once more!- Adrian Naidin
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t2HcLb9fyZg

lady of the winter tale

once upon a time there was a light and a girl who followed it to the stars.

Miracles happen

you don't have to wait for a miracle, you just have to open your eyes and see it...

and i said: fire!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

maybe the fire you see will stop when there will be no woods, but the fire inside you will never finish its combustion as long as you don't want it. it's an endless fire, it's your fire, your life, your soul. it's up to you if you want to burn like crazy or just be a little light on the road for those who need it when it's dark, but they will suffer of cold in the freezing night, and that will make them pass over you, cause you don't offer them enough warmth. However, they will thank in their mind to that little light who help them to reach their destination without getting lost.

locks and keys

broken arcades

the colorful path to the castle of a colorful soul

don't come to me. the path is too long. the trip will be full of hardships. i am here in my castle. i spread the colors of my soul to the world. don't come if you don't want to be painted, to become a work of art in my colorful universe. you should be afraid of losing your image. but you can clean yourself and i will paint you again and over again. if you don't like colors, don't come to me. fearless. joy. the dream of a new life. it's just an illusion, it's the same, it's just painted a bit and the first rain will clean everything and your universe will be black and white again. be careful. if you lose your way, you can live in my eyes.

Poem by Nichita Stănescu

Tell me, if i caught you one day 

And kissed the sole of your foot 

Wouldn't you limp a little then, 

Being afraid of crushing my kiss?

closed window- revealed beauty

Open window

 I have lost you so far in the depth of my soul where only the shadows of happiness stay . The darkness is weackened by a noble lighthouse. There is your home, my dear, there is your home...

Rose story

   

















Well, these are not my best photos of a rose, but ... one day i saw that my neighbour's  rose  had a bud. I've been haunting for its flourishing a whole week. Then, on a rushing day i saw it with a slight line of light and it was so beautiful... the day passed without any notice. Before sleeping i was thinking of taking a photo of the beauty in the morning and surprise!... the flower withered and fell. I regretted this with all my heart. After some weeks... a new bud... this time i didn't escape it... i followed him in the morning when the flower just began to open and at meal time when it looked how you could see it...
I did have a second chance, but life usually gives us one... as Eminem says "one opportunity, one shot"

Game of girls

A girl never limits herself to pose. She feels, she lives, she dreams until the sun falls  and then over again. Her eyes never lie to those who know  to listen...Her nobility, her elegance is something she is born with. There is a portrait of her  for everyone who deserves. A thousand looks, a thousand smiles, a thousand secret emotions are waiting to burst into the posture of a lady.
Then they will barely say: "I fear that you'll hide within a foreign eye" (Nichita Stănescu)

The never-changing story

     

Once upon a time a girl had to choose between two doors, between two worlds. Both were closed, both were tempting. One attracted her with its light, the other with its shadows. She has been weighing her options one against the other, thinking and wondering what lies beyond till she started to dance. She was now dizzy and going to listen to her heart.Fascinated by its mysteries, she turned towards the dark one and even gave it a try...after all it was the light that she finally went for, knowing the two paths of her destiny.

Call 911! Sky on fire!