I walked through the apparent chaos and found myself held not at the sight of assortment but rather at its own unawareness. Aside from the mingling of sounds and smells, of shrieks and odours, there is a distinctive feeling of indetermination. These people, seemingly, don’t act on obligation or strictness of purpose. They just act and let their actions flow to whatever follows.
At times, I see them like children who have just broken or fractured from a more primordial state of being, gradually becoming more mindful yet still keeping to their closer inner selves, like from a distant ancient time.
Because of their more instinctive bearing, their movement in time is not fixed, not like my own who feels the need to know where and when I am, in a very rigid sense of exactitude.
This way of letting go gave the sensation of a world still dreaming, free of the burden of a self-imposed reality and somewhere at the brink between our world and what will come to pass. (photos and text: Dragos-Radu Dumitrescu)
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)
To me, the end of a fair feels just as important to be a part of as it's more crowded, chirpy colorful middle happening. While many may try to pry into the swirling of sound, taste and visual babel, I was more curious of its glibly looseness that follows after all celebration and spread.
A sense of space seems to reorder itself into episodic encounters with now the more personal environment that governs the few remaining people. Pavilions and machinery disentangle, small objects and leftovers commingle in an almost amusing attempt to keep their livelihood. It’s a small small universe where things tend to rid themselves of the unnecessary, where the essence of forms can become more apparent.
An expanse that keeps the promise of self-preservation, bordering the more vast, chaotic outside worlds.
(Photos and text: Dragos-Radu Dumitrescu) Kodak Tri-x 400, Ilford hp5 400
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