My bus ride to work

I'm out of inspiration. Or better yet inspiration is out of me. So I just shot whatever I saw out the window in some of the bus stops on the way to work.

Here's a slice of every day bus-riding folk experience for you.

Silent movements

My first video, shot exclusively with my 0.0001 pixels phone camera :-)

Afternoon in our neighborhood

Light, life, love.

Happy World Photography Day!

Tribute to the unknown artist

I got a box, a big one and I glued colored pieces of paper on it to make it look nicer. I think that’s how it started.

We put the box on the desk and we collected all the pictures, both finished and half way done. If anyone asked for their picture we would give it to them, but more often than not no one claimed anything and the pictures would just lay there by the window for days after they had dried. So we collected and put them in the box hoping that they would come back to get them. We waited for days, weeks and the piles of paper were getting bigger and bigger. At some point the big box I had made started to look small.

Some of the pictures were put up on the walls for everyone to see and admire. These were the ones that had been signed. But what about the rest? What about all those other pictures belonging to the unknown artists that left them behind?

I took it upon myself to be the curator of these works. I chose the ones that were, without a doubt, made by children and I selected the pictures that were made intentionally (as opposed to spills or the papers that kids used to wipe their hands). I bent the intentionality rule just slightly to make room for serendipity. I gave them titles and tried to offer them a proper tribute.

This project has given me the opportunity to contemplate. I found great delight in the few seconds I held each one on the wall and shot. I found great comfort in the though that they will never be forgotten.

My orchid

So here I am again. I feel tired in that good way. In that I've been doing something kind of way.

If someone were to ask me what I've been doing and I reply honestly, not too many people will take me seriously. It will go like: so, I've been playing board games like Operation and Snakes and Ladder and Princesses. And I've been making dolls and dressing them up. I've been coloring and putting glitter on anything. I learned how to make a moving puppet and put on puppet shows too.

It's been a while since I've been doing so many things that don't numb my brain and emotions.

Last but not least, my orchid:

Ledras Street - ground zero

Nicosia is the last divided city in Europe.
Ledras is the iconic street for this division.

After the Turkish invasion in 1974, almost half of Cyprus, the northern part, was claimed by Turkey who declared the occupied areas be a "Federated Turkish State". Nicosia was therefore divided by a ceasefire line known as the Green Line. There is still no resolution in this matter as Northern Cyprus is not recognized as a sovereign state by the international community. The United Nations considers the declaration of independence by Northern Cyprus as legally invalid in several of its resolutions.

Nevertheless, a checkpoint was installed; tourists and local folks must show their id to cross over. There are many pictures on the web and also a lot of information so I will not bore you with the politics and demographics behind this. What I am trying to portray is more on the lines of cultural difference between two nations separated by war, religion and mutual discrimination, but who have cohabited for so long on such a small island.

I have tried to document the everyday city life from both sides. I tried not to get too far from the center (manly Ledras street) because it is the dichotomy created in this central point, in the heart of the city and of the country, in ground 0 if you may, that interested me.

Walking down on Ledras street (the Greek side) you feel like in any other European city tourist area: colorful shops, well known fast food chains, bookstores, music shops, cool teenagers, energetic children and so on.

And when you get to the border, the check point, there isn’t much formality. You just show your id / passport and write down on a piece of paper you full name and id / passport number. The person at customs puts a stamp on the piece of paper and that’s your visa.

Walking down on Ledras street (the Turkish side) you feel like in any other Turkish city: crowded shops, lots of jeans and sports shoes, Arabic music, cheerful restaurant owners inviting you to take a seat and eat.

I tried to photograph the same points of interest on each side (shops, posters, ads, and restaurants) but also similar situations (people shopping, children playing). I thought I would photograph more or less the same thing, but on each side, and the differences between the two cultures would speak for themselves. Much to my surprise I found similarities as well as differences and I portrayed those too. It seems to me that being forced to live on such a small island for such a long time makes certain barriers fade. And I actually found those similarities more interesting. Serendipity they call it.

*** Note: I pasted the photos two by two: Greek side vs Turkish side. There is no pattern in the way I joined the photos together, I chose weather one goes on the left or on the right according to aesthetic reasons. If you cannot tell which photo was shot where, that’s fine. I would probably have to double check that myself.

To childhood

1st of June is children's day in Romania so this days holds a special significance for me. This and 1st of December (Romania's national day) are two days when my parents - tough is sounded weird to me - greeted my brothers and I with "La mulţi ani" (literally translated: "To many more years" but is the equivalent of Happy Birthday). My parents tried to make a big deal out of children's day, but for some reason it seemed artificial to me.

And no, I did not believe that greedy greeting card companies forced this holiday on us to make a profit, I was 8 for God's sake. It was simply thinking that I am not more of a child on the 1s of June than I am on any other day. Why celebrate my childhood on that day? The birthday makes sense, I was born on THAT day, but children's day? Why then and why celebrate? I was a child and my celebration was continuous through my play.

I remember I used to try to do something special on that day, but it just seemed so fake because I didn't have to try to be a child, I was a child. My birthday was different, it was special because I was gaining one year and I was realizing (not consciously) that I am assuming a new role with each passing year, with changing grades etc.

So here comes the question: why did we create this holidays for children?

Today is 1st of June, children's day, and I am so happy I got to celebrate it by making mosaics and taking pictures of the pavement because I can no longer draw on it with coloured chalk. I'm almost 24 years old and I just now get it, why we have children's day. And to all the adults out there reading this... children don't need the holiday, but you do, so enjoy it!