Almost dead silence! And I want to sleep, forget about this day, the day of tomorrow, to plunge into my silly phantasies and forget everything.
But I cannot fall asleep. I am neither tired nor do I want to do something in particular.
I like the steady night as it reigns down, bereft of the noise and babel of an insistent impulse of being compelled to act on anything.
In fact, I seek the stillness of the day as well. Of everything that is around. From engines, diesels and feet, to voices, horns and the shouting of ad panels, from the senseless marching in fixed headings, the waiting in stations and the elongation of queues and people alike, all feels loaded, whirling yet numb.
I find no reason for this and only the thought of leaving the squirming gets to me. Even more so! Getting out of this muddy puddle. Somewhere beyond, ashore, from which everything seems in a certain order, or at least surrounded not sprawled chaotically.
I find little of interest, the rest I suspect as forgery or imposture, half done and with a scattered confused mind. I am being reproached that I don’t like anything and it immediately comes to thought that I’m only compensating for the nothingness that you people like.
I often play with others. Moral issues come into light and I have that satisfaction of getting aside of them. Most of all, there is this almost compulsive feeling of disrespecting such limitations, so to speak. Sometimes a misunderstanding arises, I am being called names and tags and I get that fervor to act identically to those tags, at least to give some reason to their judging. I don’t care how this sounds. What they wanted to see is what they will get. I’m not keen on proving my innocence.
I cannot feel others’ suffering in the way it should affect me, or I do feel it and it sustains me, stirring a smile somewhere inside. I feel no guilt or regret, or sometimes it shortly manifests like any other mood during the day. I tell people what runs through my head and they prefer to hear the same things from others. I feel like being in twilight and my attitude resonates with that.
My eyes are getting closed! (Photos and text: Dragos-Radu Dumitrescu)
When I traveled to Africa I was reborn. Seeing its beauty, feeling its vibe, was like falling in love for the first time. From the red and black earth where you can find the maasai villages, to the yellow savannas where the eye meets the lions, to the far away turquoise ocean, all its poetry.
It is a land wrapped up in magic, out of this world, like a piece of heaven. It is said that if God would have a home on Earth it would be in Africa, now I totally agree. (Text and photos Iris Tusa)
The Bulb Collective consists of photographers active in urban (and rural) photography with an expressive shift to include highly aesthetic and poetic images in their assignments.
BULB goes MIAMI SPF
Stay tuned to learn in time about the events organised by our team.
SEP 2018: The Greeks
APR 2018: The Romanians
APR 2018: ΦΩS Project2
JAN 2018: BG exhibition
DEC 2017: MSPF 2017
NOV 2017: ΦΩS Project
AUG 2017: VSLO 2017
APR 2017: CY exhibition
DEC 2016: 2nd Photo Contest
NOV 2016: 2nd book launch
JUL 2016: Athens exhibition
JUL 2016: BULB in Kulturama
JUN 2016: Katerini exhibition
JUN 2016: Thess. exhibition
FEB 2016: Bucharest exhibit
JAN 2016: 1st Photo Contest
AUG 2015: BULB at VSLO2015
JUL 2015: CUCAL Exhibition
JUN 2015: BULB 1st Book
FEB 2015: Rural Project
JAN 2015: BULB Open DAY