Pieces of Denmark

Once upon a time...

Dream house (oil on wood)

Vise de sfarsit de vara

Intotdeauna mi-am dorit sa ajung la aeroport fara bagaje si sa ma urc intr-un avion asa doar cu o geanta si cu hainele de pe mine...stiu!...ce cliseu...dar tot mi-ar placea. Nu stiu de unde mi se trage acest dor de duca, acesta stare permanenta de talpa arzanda. Defapt stiu de unde, e mostenire de familie si culmea s-a si acutizat la mine. Sau si mai tare imi doresc sa ma ia cineva pe sus, sa imi zica plecam nu stiu unde, cand? acum! Sa fie totul aranjat: drum, cazare, sa am deja bagajele facute pentru ca altcineva s-a ocupat de toate acestea pana la cel mai mic detaliu. Eventual sa-mi fie aprobat si concediu :), sa fie totul stabilit si sa trebuiasca doar sa zic da! :) Da, suna din nou cliseistic dar e o iluzie pe care tare as vrea-o transformata in realitate. Sa ai acel sentiment de vacanta, de bine si de siguranta.

Live, save and archive

There are days we forget, days that it seams we never lived, never existed, happy or sad moments that just fade away in time, we know they were there, we try to remember but it's all blurry and we need to force ourselves for the pieces to come back. And there are also days that remain forever somewhere inside. They come back naturally from the back of our mind. A simple connection, sometimes logical or sometimes apparently without reason, acts like a trigger and they are displayed automatically. We cannot erase them, we close our eyes, or sometimes not even that, and we re-live a specific moment. It happens that we bring into our mind not necessarily pictures, persons or places, but feelings, how we felt in that specific moment. I do not know the reason why I remember exactly how i was dressed when I was about 4 years old and I went to visit Adamclisi with my parents. I remember how me, my mom, my dad were dressed and I can remember how the breeze, the sun, the warmth felt. Just how I can't explain why I have a very strong memory of a late autumn in my childhood, very rainy, maybe it was holiday or not. I was home with my mother and we watched a cartoon with a green duck that was a vampire (something from looney tunes i believe). I have a very strong image of those days and to me it seamed we spent some days/weeks together and in reality it's possible to have only been a weekend. Some of the memories/images get washed away, some that now are very strong and bring us misery or extreme happiness fade in time. I do not know exactly why some stay and some fade, sure self-preservation or seeing pictures helps the selection, but i believe other factors do too. Some memories make us smile and feel joy - those we want to keep forever; others give us nightmares, shivers (not the good ones), make us cry, doubt, toss in bed. Sometimes memories get mixed up, we believe something happened in a specific day, when actually it happened with another occasion. We live some days, hours, moments and we say we will never forget them, how we felt then - good or bad, it is so strong and it has such great power it seams it will always be a part of us. Just how it seams now i will never forget the day i stood one chilly autumn evening, when some shades of summer still persisted, at a crossroad (ironic ha?) and most of all i can still remember how I felt...I cannot get that feeling, that sensation out of my system...lost so very lost, relieved, confused, shocked, scared... But this states go away...at some point. Maybe, at some point, the memories will stop hunting you, you stop feeling a twinge when they hit you back. Sure, some will always be there but maybe less strong. There is a sieve, a very complex one, for the happy and the sad memories, like I said, some will always remain strong, but some will lose their power, some will be activated just like that, while others will have a damaged archive.

Cluj iunie 2013

strange sensation

Sometimes I get the feeling, while walking down the street that I am not alive anymore, that I am an illusion or a memory of myself. I get the feeling I left myself behind, as in I died at the last crossroad. I feel like if I would look behind I would see myself lying on the pavement with blood around and all. It is a strange feeling, like a detachment and it gets stronger just like a confirmation, if a car just ran too fast by me and I avoided it or if somebody hit my shoulder by accident as if I was not there. It's the feeling that people cannot see me anymore and I feel the transition process happening in my mind. The awareness that I am no longer, washing over me, overwhelming me, the brain trying to realize and to comprehend what is happening, the struggle to internalize that I may have died hit by that van that was going too fast or maybe it happen last night in my sleep and my soul still got up, got dressed out of reflex or as a memory of what my mind knows it should be doing, never noticing i lost my body.