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 Partos Monastery (1655) – by its positioning in the middle of the rural community is a special place both from the spiritual point of view and from the openness towards people and culture.
Father Varlaam Almajanu – after a long period in which the monastery was closed, he opened the gates again, thus reviving the small village entrusted to the monastery.
During my stay in Partos I was led by a man of the monastery through the houses of the villagers, many of whom were at the extreme limit of poverty, but they all received us with open hearts because we came from the monastery and we can bring only good.
Through the loving service of this monk named by children “Padre” , he managed to open the hearts of people, to love, to the light, and to find again the joy of living.
They say: “Even if it’s hard since “Padre” came to our monastery we have hope, salvation and much love!”
A loving man draws near him people like him and together they can change the world. A extraordinary community has been formed around the Priest and the Monastery involved in everything that is the life and mission of this place.
work in progress… (Photos and text by Florina Luput)