Keep the Love

I spent much of this year supporting a few charities and campaigning for integration, equality and mutual respect. 

I firmly believe that especially now, in this unstable geo-political context, we all should focus on things that unite us, rather than contribute to division.
I thought for quite a while what images I wanted to end the year with and I wasn't yet decided which ones express unity better. Then the opportunity presented itself in a very fortuitous way.
My 5yo loves spending time in one of his special places, at Ginninderry Link building. He likes admiring the aboriginal artwork and enjoys spending time making up stories about the images. My 8Yo loves it too, so we headed there for a last visit this year. To our delight we found this beautifully decorated Christmas tree. While the kids made a wish, this beautifully adorned tree struck a chord with me. I couldn't help but think of the snows of the yesteryears back in my native Romania. We used to decorate real trees. My grandparents had two fir trees in their courtyard and on a few occasions I got to decorate them festively for Christmas.
These images are so quintessentially Australian - I couldn't think of a better way to wish everyone a Merry Christmas. The gum tree, the blue sky and the peaceful grasslands are very different from the winters in my beloved village, yet they tie together so well. The symbolism is just the same: we all live under the same sky and the greatest thing that unites us all is Love.
My gift to you all is nothing but Love. Close your eyes for a second and imagine you are with us, in front of the tree. Enjoy this beautiful moment wherever around the world you may be.

The Fence Sitter

 

Senescence

 

 

 

El Arcoíris

 

Rojo - los labios de esos niños que ayer robaron las cerezas. 

Naranja, el amanecer de mis mañanas soñolientas.

Amarillo - la hoja que encontré corriendo con la lluvia

Verde son las briznas de hierba y los ojos de mi hija

Azul es el retrato tuyo que nunca tomé, pero lo recuerdo cada día

Índigo las noches desiertas, 

Violeta es el color

del dolor.



I'm Gonna Rain Tonight

That time when music speaks to you and you just keep on writing.

About the Eyes

About this poem:

We live in times of great turmoil; worldwide, we are divided by power, greed, discord and famine. I think it is most important than ever to acknowledge that we live under the same sun, that we are all equal. Unfortunately, I don't speak as many languages as I would like to.

I imagined 4 different characters, with different languages, different eyes colour and different life experience. They are made by the different memories each of them carries.

The black eyes remember storms, wars and their mother, trying to find her children's next piece of bread. Even when they found peace, living in a different country, a country of blue-eyed people, the memories come back.

The green eyes remember different kind of storms and Spring nights. The brown eyes remember the enchanted forest of their childhood. The blue eyes have never known famine and they reassure the black eyes that they will never have to worry about the bread.

I have always considered myself a visual artist primarily. That is not to say that I am not serious about my writing. I always knew I want to write - there was never a doubt. I just always envisaged the two getting along just fine. I couldn't imagine myself doing one without the other.
Recently, I have been commissioned to write. A lot. And I am thrilled to say, "Stories from my Grasslands" will soon have a home, airing from a local radio station. (I promise, all will be revealed soon).

Meanwhile, I want to talk about writing and about what I have learned about writing . Last year, I was fortunate to take part in a series of "Mother Tongue" workshops under the guidance of the ever amazing Jacqui Malins and Lauren Klinger. I admired their courage of standing up and admitting they only spoke English; yet their workshops were truly mind blowing. They taught techniques and emphasis, they made writing exercises fun, they made me see languages and their fusion in a totally new perspective. Each workshop was enhanced by the contribution of a special writer as well as the contribution of the other participants - so many ladies brought their knowlege: Anita Patel, Niloofar Fanaiyan, Vesna Cvjeticanin and Dunja Cvjetićanin, Christiane Vivanco de Savaris, Melissa Gomez, Karina Palomita. Thank you. I have learned so much in so little time. And I made some friends too, in the process.
So I decided to try fusion for myself. Here is my first poem in all the languages I love.
I get this question so many times, why do you write in other languages than yours? And I don't really know what the answer would be. Perhaps because my biggest regret is that I cannot make music, even if my life depended on it. So I play with the words, instead. I find music in their rhythm. I am (by far) not an academic, and I am sure that my grammar is poor at times. Perhaps the sense of what I want to convey is lost in translation at times, just like me. But what a fun adventure, to dance one's way through all these words.

Stories from My Grasslands

About the roundness of a circle

I don't do new year resolutions. I don't live in the spur of the moment promises, nor am I good planner. 

I do have a list with things I want to do during 2017. It's a hefty list, with the little things, as well as the bold and daring dreams. The key word here is "do". Not achieve.

They are all things that mean a lot to me; I want to do all these because they are things I believe in, or things that make others - and me - happy.

Whether I achieve anything by doing them, that is another story.

I haven't set that expectation of me, this time.

In fact, I haven't set any expectations at all for 2017. I want to look at it as a clean, crisp Canson paper where I can play with my pastels as long as I like, add the colours gradually and see what comes out of it. No rush, no pressure. 2016 has been a very challenging year for many. For me personally, it meant a lot of self-search and reflection. And at times, it felt like going around in circles.

Therefore It seems fit to leave you with this text I wrote a while ago, when a friend challenged me to think about a circle of reflections. I was never thinking of publishing it, but by the way our year has been hitting all the wrong notes, it makes sense to write it down again.

To all my friends in all four cardinal points: before the year leaves us, I wish you Love, Strength, Unity and Patience. May your circles stay round and may love reflect onto you.

About the roundness of the circle:
Nobody ever saw the face of God yet I am sure he is everywhere, at every step and can take any shape; in fact, I am sure creation has the form of a circle. Life starts in the roundness of a womb. Or an egg. Planets are round; we all live enclosed in a big round circle and people died for their belief in its roundness. 

I am sure as hell that lines and rectangles have been artificially made so we can be easily put in a corner, forgetting about our own wholeness and about the roundness of our circles.
We live in all kind of circles - and the most miraculous of all, we call it circle of life. We surround ourselves in more of these concentric circles: circle of friends, circle of trust, circle of love. The lucky ones even get to intersect these circles. Their tangents are a joke though; they are merely lines.
Coming full circle is not a coincidence either, is it? We start as helpless babies, learning everything and then we come around, forgetting, getting weaker and ending up just as helpless as we started.
We round up: our wealth, in rounding up amounts, we round up the cattle, the sheep, we round up the family for news. We gather around the table.

And all around and inside these circles, our world is made entirely of reflections. Each object, each colour is more or less defined by the amount of light absorbed, emitted or reflected. We are reflected - yet we are also reflecting.
I find it amazing that the English language gives the act of thinking the same word as the act of throwing back the light without absorbing or retaining it. And it is also amazing that the eye globe is round; the iris through which we filter these reflections has a circle shape too.
Unfortunately we are unable to retain the light but we are able to retain a thought. 

Sometimes we skip around these circles, without giving it too much thought or even without being aware of it all. And then again, we seem to come to a full circle. A circle of reflection.

 

 

 

About Love, after the Storm

The trees stood tall in the grasslands last night while the little people cuddled a bit closer and asked me to hold them tight.
- "We've been through storms before and we will see some more", I said to them. "Don't let fear guide you - hope should always be the last to leave".
We could see the trees from our window - the grasslands were bathed in light and the thunders were roaring, seconds apart. All throughout these crazy winds, the trees stood tall. And then the rhythmic raindrops falling on the window sent the little people to sleep.
 
In the morning, the trees were still there, with no visible sign of the battering they've just been through.
One thing that never ceased to amaze me at my grandparents' farm was how the grass would always come afresh after a good rain. Even the most trampled, crushed blades of grass would raise anew, greener and taller.

If you know me personally, you know how reticent I am, when it comes to candy pink tones. Yet seeing the state of the world today, I think I will throw some pink shades at you, my friends.
Just like the grass of my yesteryears, the beautiful pink freesias from our front gardens were revived and full of life this morning. Last night, they were one with the ground.

Everything has been said already, during the last 24 hours. I have nothing more to add, but to many of my friends going through this unbelievable turn of events, I just want to say this:

Remember, we've been through storms before. I see your pain. Please don't ever forget the beauty of the human spirit and how in its darkest hours, humankind finds its strength in togetherness, unity and love.
Love always trumps hate. Good always wins - even if it will take some time.

Permission to Despair

What a peculiar, short word is "Now"; yet with the most elusive power.
Say it - and you've already stepped into next minute.
Effaced by faceless automatons who march into the hour
Towards the cubicles located in a central pivot.

Don't front the winter with your collar raised up like a shield,
You're not alone and you are loved; so loose that state of mind.
Somehow we'll make it through this baffling battlefield
Back to the grounds we lost during the daily grind...

This is part of a larger body of work tackling estrangement as a result of feeling overwhelmed.
How does one avoid shutting down? How does one express becoming emotionless in a world seemingly more devoid of feelings, where we become faceless silhouettes, rushing towards oblivion, while being invaded by all these picture perfect selfies?
Is it in the silence beyond that smile that never took off?
Is it in the quiet desperation of the fingers clutching a little too tight to the collar we're raising up as a shield?
How do we find the way back to communicating and being part of the community we live in?