*****

I very much like this piece by Adrian Paci.

"A video installation following a piece of marble getting carved out of a rock in China and traveling to the exhibition space in Paris. On the boat, during the trip, the marble stone gets transformed into a classical column by Chinese sculptors. The column is then presented outside of the exhibition space, while the video of the journey is presented inside."

The space behind my eyes.

There's not much left to say after a week-end spent with people you love, in a beautiful place.
Only that you're thankful and the place is simply out of this world.
Enjoy the view

.

Welcome to my realm.

Music to my ears.

"I instantly and irreversibly block based on @replies I find even slightly annoying. Yes, it’s selfish. Yes, it’s about me. That’s the whole point. It’s not that I care about your brilliant reply or who reads my posts. You could very well be “right.” I just don’t care. I don’t want to hear it. I have no patience for conflict junkies or hyper-argumentative people polluting my stream. I don’t want to debate you. I don’t want to trade clever put-downs. I don’t want to go back and forth trying to get the last word. I don’t like to be trolled, nitpicked, insulted or bothered. If I happen to see something annoying, I immediately block without first getting in some clever remark of my own. This is a personal account. You’re not paying for it. Shocking: I don’t like to get hassled, and will block to avoid it. I’m not the guy to satisfy your need for epic battles, flame wars, or online validation. There are plenty of people itching for a fight, just not me. Go be annoying, rude, combative or your positive spin on those things somewhere else. I will ruthlessly curate my online experience to selfishly satisfy my own sensibilities and make it fun for me, period."

"I sense my writing displeases you. I suggest not reading it."

via gorgeously smart Deea

I can smell your essence

The too long awaited Daft Punk's album is going to rock your soul.
Can you feel it? They teased us like a proper lover would and I reckon the album is going to caress our ears for many months to come.
It features hot Pharrell and genius Chilly Gonzales. What else is there to say?

It's been a while since I've waited for an album like I'm waiting for Random Access Memories.
Give it to me baby.

And seeing all these brilliant musicians talking about the record and the band with so much respect and awe, doesn't make the waiting any easier.

A match made in heaven.

Am primit de la Madi o pelerina. (Madi este minunata mama a dragei Maria )
Cand m-a sunat si mi-a spus ca are ceva pentru mine, eram sigura ca o sa fie o piesa. Dar nu ma gandeam ca va fi asa o piesa.
Am primit-o acum o luna si n-am purtat-o pentru ca fost frig. Am asteptat cu nerabdare sa vina ziua cu soare in care sa o arat lumii. Tot timpul asta a stat pe umeras. M-am uitat la ea in fiecare zi si am asteptat.

M-am intrebat timp de o luna, care dintre hainele mele sunt atat de pretioase incat sa le pot da mai departe. Care dintre lucrurile pe care le adunam, o sa reziste timpului. Care se vor degrada/umple frumos? Pe care dintre ele le vom da mai departe cu drag stiind ca vor aduce bucurie sau cel putin un  prilej de reflectie?

Nu cred ca ipodul de prima generatie, iPhone-ul vechi sau ceasul Suunto prezinta interes. Insa, poate cineva, candva se va bucura sa primeasca cele 2 yukata pe care le am. Pentru ca nu sunt doar niste bucati de bumbac, ca un kimono e mai frumos cand il primesti, ca imbracarea lui e un proces care ia timp sau pentru ca legarea unui obi inseamna atentie si rabdare. 

Poate. Sper.

Multumesc nespus Madi, sper ca am asortat-o frumos. 
 

Cerere - in trei exemplare, stampilate si legalizate.

Motivul pentru care scriu in engleza e ca am cam 3 cititori care nu inteleg romana. Si pentru ca ii respect si nu vreau sa-i las pe mana lui gugal transleit, incerc sa scriu cat mai bine in engleza.

Postul asta nu-i priveste.

Pentru ca ei traiesc in orase normale, cu evenimente normale, cu parteneriate cu primaria, metrorexul lor si asa mai departe. Ei stiu ca pot sa iasa in oras in timpul saptamanii la concerte, pentru ca ele vor incepe, asa cum scrie pe flyer, cand scrie pe flyer.

Sunt crescuta in the good old 80-90z. Si ma mandresc cu faptul ca am crescut in provincie cu multa muzica. Cu timp sa ascult muzica. Asta inseamna ca muzica inseamna mult.

Cand ceva se fixeaza, in afara timpului, in afara muzicii, ca un moment, atunci cand trupa/interpretul vor veni in orasul tau, chiar daca va fi trecut mult timp, chiar daca vei fi foarte obosit, vei merge la concert. Vei plati cat scrie pe bilet. Deja ai crescut, castigi niste bani. E ok. Pe bilet scrie ca trupa pentru care ai veni incepe la 12. Te gandesti putin - daca incep la 12, termina la 1, cat ajung acasa - adorm la 2. Ok. Ma duc. Pot sa sacrific 2 ore de somn/somnul de frumusete, (pentru ca fetelor, somnul de frumusete conteaza enorm).

Ajungi la eveniment. Bei niste bauturi usor alcoolizate pentru ca maine trebuie sa te trezesti, sa fii fresh, pentru ca tara are nevoie de tine. Afli ca trupa pentru care ai venit o sa intre cu o ora mai tarziu, pentru ca, iti explica organizatorii, toti artistii au intrat mai tarziu, pentru ca nu s-a adunat lume.

Nu nu si nu. E un eveniment obscur, cu muzica, care inca, din pacate, e considerata, experimentala, intr-un loc in care, pentru muzica respectiva, pentru publicul nu foarte numeros ( nu ca asta ar fi ceva rau ) nu s-a adus inginerul de sunet potrivit.

Daca tu, organizatorule, ma mai vrei acolo, pe mine, omul care stie despre ce e vorba in muzica aia, care plateste bilet la intrare, care poate sa treaca peste faptul ca nu se aude perfect si ca e foarte mult fum, care mai si bea niste bauturi de la care, evident sa nu-l doara capul, deci mai scumpe, te rog sa respecti strict programul pe care il publici pe facebook si la care da lumea like.

Si ce ma enerveaza cel mai tare, e ca e asa la toate evenimentele din Romania. Totul intr-o nebuloasa. Eu vreau sa stiu macar cand incepe. +/- 15 minute de cum e anuntat. E respect pentru public, oricat de putin numeros ar fi.

Pentru mine Plaid inseamna Transalpina. Inainte sa fie construita. E un moment pretios, fixat, in cinema-ul secret al mintii mele, cu Plaid.

Si daca n-ati inteles despre ce vorbesc, mi-ar placea sa cititi ultimul Monocle, dedicat Germaniei, lucrului facut la timp. Si sa ne gandim toti la cum am putea, pentru ca, ne place sau nu, traim aici, sa facem dracului niste schimbari mici. Gen, daca scriem o ora pe afis, sa incepem cand scrie pe afis.

Am fost la Royal Albert Hall la concertul aniversar al Ninja Tune. Evenimentul incepea la 19:30. Am intrat in sala la 19:15 si era aproape goala. Ma gandeam ca va fi ca la noi, ca va incepe cu o ora intarziere. Concertul a inceput, cu sala plina la 19:30. O chelareasa a venit la 19:30, a verificat loja si a inchis-o cu o cheie imensa. Construirea traditiilor incepe cu prima zi.

Multumesc.

Like. No other.

I should say that all appreciation for whatever I do, matters. Likes, comments on my posts, praises of my clothes. But to be onest, some likes matter more.

My mentor, who strongly believes I'm a talented photographer, managed, through his infinite patience to convince me to continue taking pictures.

Over the past 2 years, I build an instagram account that has little over 500 followers. Some of them are photographers I deeply admire. And when one of them likes my work, it's a good day.
 

Slow down, baby.

I've always taken care of my feet. This means always getting the comfiest shoes available. Sneakers, flats and flip-flops.

But even I, a tall girl, have 2 pairs of very high heels. I rarely wear them. Because wearing high heels always seems like an ordeal. What am I going to wear them with? I might need to move fast, my walking seems clumsy, etc. All this makes me jump in my comfy casual shoes, and leave the heels for yet another uncertain, forever postponed occasion. Cause we need to perform fast and look casually smart.

And then you find a perfect pair. You feel more comfortable. Your walking improves. But there's this thing. You can't be fast. It takes more time to get from A to B. What an ordeal.

Oh, wait. You listen to more music, your posture changes, your thinking flow changes. The universe doesn't end if you're slow and what looked as a necessary horror ends up a pure delight.

Oh, my, I like it slow. I like more music. I like the islands of time just for me. I like the smiles. I like the new perspective.

Slow down, baby. It's sunny outside.

Happy tree friends.

Facebook made us all friends. We all like each other, we say nice things and we behave. Harmony. We're all correct, sustaining the right causes by a click, liking the food we can't possibly cook in our kitchens and the cats we can't really take care of. Lovely. An uniform mass of lovely, kind creatures, all behaving and smiling. Isn't that cute? 

You might argue that some things, like porn should not be shared, but kept in a secret folder to be tasted from time to time, in small portions that keep you wanting more.

And I agree. I'm a nice creature.

So, the next video is a book adaptation, done for a fashion magazine and it teaches us the value of a clean cold table and other healthy things, like showering and clean sheets.

See you soon.


Mine from Alvaro de la Herrán on Vimeo.

Fashion News

I grew up with them. I fell out and in with love with them.
They are responsible for the way my mind shapes ideas.

You know their work is so different, you think only they can mix it in a concert.
You're very reluctant to any cover.

For anyone whose ears, mind, heart and skin resonated with Depeche Mode, take one hour off and listen to this. Give your mind a Sunday on a Monday.

It haunted me for the weekend. I was selfish enough to keep it to myself. Indulge in it. Remember old things, envision new ones.

Speak to you afterwards.

Speak to you later.

There was a time when you could share stuff with only a handful of people. And that was good cause maybe even a debate would be born from that. Maybe you were making new friends and enemies. It was anyway, a night out, when people shared a good wine and some interesting stories.

Then sharing networks appeared. You would share and share and share and share. Nothing would be just for you anymore. You would get likes and comments and that would make you feel important, validated, liked.
Until you find something that good, you don't want to share it. It's so obscure but brilliantly tasty, perfectly touching your soul, in so many ways, you want to keep it to yourself.

And then you feel uncomfortable.

But that's what usually happens when you change your routines.

Keep that obscure thing obscure for 2 more days. If it's that hip you'll see it on a wall in your face.
But keep it with/within you for a while. Let it haunt you, let it resonate with the other things that, along the time form-ulated you. Let it stay, get its vitamins. Like you do with great food. You don't spit it out, you slowly swallow it, tasting  it, feeling how good it is for you.

Let it form you, still. Listen to it, before you talk about it.

Nope, I'm not sharing it just yet. 2 days. It's, at least for me, painstakingly good.

Blom&Blom

Less facebook, more real intenet routine pays off.

Found Blom&Blom, 2 brothers devoted to forgotten items from forgotten places.

"We collect, restore and redesign industrial lamps and furnishings, in order to give these authentic pieces a new existence. With a particular passion for industrial artefacts from the former DDR, we stroll across East Germany in search of abandoned factories and the stories they hold."

Finding old objects, giving them a new life is far from being a revolution. Respecting their history though, is a tender touch B&B casts by showing old pictures of the objects, in their original location.

Today is a new day.

De cativa ani, ma trezesc cu Guerrilla de dimineata, emisiunea lui Dobro, Oprina si pana de curand a lui Craio. Trebuie sa recunosc ca in ultima vreme, ma enervau glumele de topor preistoric ale lui Craio. Insa cand am aflat ca a plecat de la Guerrilla, m-am intrebat, ca toata lumea, cum va fi emisiunea fara el.

Baietii, asaltati de feedback, incearca de o saptamana, sa se regrupeze si sa reinveteze emisiunea.

Si asta e un lucru minunat. Sa schimbi felul in care faci acelasi lucru, sa nu ramai paralizat de teama schimbarilor care vin uneori fara ca tu sa le fi cerut, sa accepti ca uneori lumina cade si altfel decat vedeai tu.

Asta nu poate sa aiba decat rezultate bune. Trebuie insa sa dai timpului, timp.

Plan B

I used to write daily - on the blog that is. And since I'm coming from ages when facebook was a synapse that didn't happen just yet, I used my blog for sharing beautiful music or any kind of interesting info I found on the mighty web.

Facebook happened, so, apart from important moments that required more than 2 lines of text, I didn't write much.

My cat's fall brought one of the ugliest weeks in my life. Re-arranged a lot. Changed the way I look at some people, proving, once again that cats are great teachers on human behaviour.

Last night I lost my iPhone, cause I'm not my usual self these days. Or I am my usual self just powerless and just tired. It's a bad moment. A bad year.

It's not about the phone. It's about waking up and figuring out plan B. Cause we all should have one. Just in case. Like - what do you use for the morning alarm? Remember alarm clocks? They run on batteries, without an USB. OMG!!!

It's a bad moment and it's ok to feel miserable. I can't help smiling though, on the thought that old habits die easy actually and all happens so that, in a while, we'll wonder about how we managed to pass through it all.

Life is good as long as it is and as long as plan B is not a scare.

Every superhero has his flaws.

Isn't it funny how life is?

Last night I was thankful for the love I receive. 

Tonight, my life companion, who is, like for most of us, ( I still hope - a minority ) , a cat or maybe a dog, believed he can fly from the 5th floor.

For those welcomed home by a small fluffy thing, that, in his alien language, argues with you, you know the panic. You know how your heart stops. It, fucking, painstakingly stops. 

Briefly, my cat flew from the 5th floor. But we're both born on the 13th. We're lucky bastards. 

I am truly thankful for the strangers that stopped tonight. For the strangers that helped me when I was frozen in pain and tears. For the strangers that called other unknown friends to make sure we get the best medical attention. For the strangers that carried us. For friends that came to our rescue. For friends that spent hours talking to us. For the unasked tenderness. For eye contact that spells more than words.

We are a family. We are Felipov Oana and Felipov Kiwi, we're superheroes and we both humbly bow before you - people we've met, some new, some old, tonight. I will bow more cause Kiwi has some broken bones. But he saw you. He knows.

We thank you. More than words can ever say. You make it worth caring, worth loving, worth giving.

P. S. We love Ortovet

I'm a slut for love.

I never cared much about celebrations. I mean the big ones that everyone makes such a big fuss about. I never completely got Valentines day, Halloween, Thanksgiving etc. Last year I declared the 27th of November as a personal celebration - something great happened to me so I decided to make it a big day.
I think we all should decide what to celebrate and when. I think we all should decide what traditions are worth keeping and which ones are not worth keeping.

Yesterday one of my friends passed me her ticket  to Macy Gray's concert and decided I'm going although I don't enjoy concerts alone. Today, one of my girlfriends texted me she's going as well so what it seemed like a solo night turned as a girl's night out.

My girlfriend, who's going through a nightmare breakup told me she missed me. And then, another beloved friend told me he missed me. And it's not about how awesome I am. It's about the warm, homey feeling that you get when you know you're truly missed.

And then gorgeous Macy Gray said something about Thanksgiving.

I had no clue what Thanksgiving is about so I wikied ( how wicked is that ) it.

Tonight I'm aware of how thankful I am. For the love I receive. The kind of love you're not asking for. The best love.

Go to sleep world, the apocalypse is not coming tonight.

Sa repetam impreuna de 10 ori. Inspira o generatie.

Am ramas socata azi cand unul dintre colegi a zis ca i se pare ca Jocurile Paralimpice sunt o prostie.
Suntem " disabled " doar pentru ca pe pasaport scrie Romania. Eu nu ma plang.

Sa faci performanta de orice fel, in tara asta, e un efort supraomenesc. Sportivii romani se antreneaza in conditii mizerabile si totusi reusesc sa ne rupa ne inimile si ochii cand, ca prin magie urca steagul sus si se aude "Desteapta-te romane".

Nu vreau sa incep sa-mi inchipui ce inseamna sa fii sportiv paralimpic in Romania. Nu vreau.

Si tocmai pentru ca, impotriva contextului nefericit, ei reusesc sa faca ceea ce fac, merita mai mult decat ceea ce cuvintele respect si admiratie pot exprima. Mult mai mult.

Si tocmai pentru ca tara e asa cum e, cred ca TVR putea sa faca efortul sa transmita Jocurile Paralimpice. Tocmai pentru a inspira o generatie. Pentru a ne face mai toleranti atunci cand intalnim persoane cu dizabilitati, mai umani, mai generosi, mai intelepti, pentru a ne scoate din apatia vietilor noastre pe care le vedem atat de imperfecte, din depresia  iminenta a zilei de nastere, pentru a ne face sa fim recunoscatori dar mai mult, si cel mai important pentru a da incredere si forta celor care s-au nascut sub o stea mai putin generoasa decat noi toti, normalii cu toate mainile, picioarele si, credem noi, toti neuronii acasa.

Desteapta-te romane din somnul cel de moarte. Cine a zis asta? Ca mi se pare destept tare.

I'm starting with the man in the mirror.

I think about death at least every 2 days. And don't get me wrong - I love life. Thinking about death makes me appreciate life even more. And I think all of us, sane people, we should exercise this. It gives an interesting perspective on priorities.

But when I die, cause like it or not that shit is coming, I want this song to be played. Make the effort and google the lyrics.

The post is really about inspiration and why I love Beyonce. I'm not trying to convince you to buy her music. Go beyond your musical genre and look at her, google her. She is a hell of a woman, a hell of an activist and yeah, a hell of a singer.

She did this for UN World Humanitarian Day - 19th of August and she recorded this.

Just look at her and feel inspired. Or maybe I just trust the human kind a bit too much, nevertheless, please chew on this:  "Do something good, no matter how big or small. For somebody else."

Cause at the end of the day, when the lights are off, we all want to fall asleep knowing that we made a difference, that we touched hearts, we brought someone to happiness, left this world a little better just because we were here.

Well, we all have to live with narcissism every day.

Death is like surgery.

You think you're a dog person. You're so convinced until a cat purrs itself into your life. You hear all those things about cats. That they will do and that they won't do this or that.

You get a cat. You're not very convinced. And then, out of the blue, you're lost. You have no clue when it happened. Next step, you take pictures of the sodding fluffy furry ball, you facebook, instagram them, cause, of course you see the universe in it. You think it teaches you stuff.

Truth is, the sodding, annoying thing teaches you stuff about truly embracing randomness, about precious love that is build in years, grace, perfume, indulgence, sleep, zen, you know, the Universe.

You like it when your friends get cats, you somehow feel connected once more cause you have another subject to marvel about.
It's wonderful.

Until your friend calls, crying and you can hear  e v e r y  f u c k i n g  cell of her heart tearing apart  when she says Tigra died. You feel the pain, it's so overwhelming, you get shivers down your spine.

The end.

You go and see your friend - it's a tragedy. It really is. You ponder about life and death, about friendship, guilt and so much more. The fluffy thing managed to get you wrapped around it's claws. And you realize you're a slave to love.

A cat will do that to you. Like it or not.

You don't need eyes to see, you need vision.

Am fost in week-end la Cupa de Vara Tribeach 2012. Un prilej de a contempla  frumusetea unor oameni. Recunosc fara nici o rusine ca am fost foarte atenta la probele masculine si nu ma interesau neaparat performantele lor sportive.

Insa lucrurile care imi rezoneaza in cap ( mai presus decat performantele personale sau medaliile castigate) si dupa 2-3 zile sunt altele. Sunt lucruri greu de spus intr-un singur post. Scot ideile principale si revin cu posturi dedicate. Dar pana atunci despre lucrurile care mi-au dat fiori pe spate.

Sunt de fiecare data uimita de Carmen Bunaciu si Anca Patrascoiu. Perseverenta si pasiunea pentru inot, naturaletea prin care se inconjoara de oameni, modestia, lumina pe care o radiaza, bijuterii pe care doar oamenii realmente mari le poseda, sunt intotdeauna o inspiratie. 

Pe langa faptul ca organizeaza ( impreuna cu Asociatia Municipala de Natatie Bucuresti si Clubul Tribeach Brasov ) aceasta competitie, pe langa faptul ca participa la concurs, au grija ca viitorul tarii sa sune cat mai bine posibil.

Duminica dimineata a inceput printr-o cursa speciala. 50m inotati de 4 campioni de care au grija Carmen si Anca. O demonstratie de putere, determinare, fair play, bunatate si atat de multe incat n-as avea loc sa le scriu pe toate. Cursa m-a lasat fara cuvinte. Am aplaudat pana cand nu-mi mai simteam palmele. Cei 4 copii cu deficiente au oferit o lectie blanda si frumoasa despre ... well, da - viata.

Iti vin in cap momentele in care te plangi ca nu mai poti sau ca iti e lene sa te misti la piscina, sala si de fapt la cam orice ti se pare greu de facut. Si iti dai seama cat de penibil si mic esti.

Keep calm and go swim.

Clara precum cristalul.

Toata seara m-am intrebat daca ar trebui sa scriu sau nu. Si daca o fac, cum sa spun sa se inteleaga pozitia mea.

Pe scurt, am fost la un eveniment unde studentii de la Arte - sectia moda, si-au prezentat colectiile de absolvire, MA si BA. A fost prima data si dureros. M-a durut mai putin cand am facut prima data sex - dar poate ca cerul a simtit sa-si ia revansa.

Am ajuns devreme intr-un loc in care nu mai fusesem, plin de oameni pe care nu-i cunosteam. Deci perfect sa ma uit cu atentie la ce vad.

In curtea scolii de arte decorative si design din capitala tarii noastre ( si stiu sa scriu cu majuscule ) tronau niste sarme cu niste hartie sub forma de rochii. M-am gandit ca erau pentru neinitiati. Sa stie unde au ajuns.

In desfasurare - o sesiune de hair styling ( o uniformizare infioratoare data de faptul ca toate modelele aveau aceeasi freza ) si repetitiile pentru prezentari.

La repetitii se remarca o doamna - despre care am aflat ulterior ca e o celebritate - care era imbracata cu o rochie, frumoasa de altfel, insa neadaptata unei chestiuni simple pe care corpul uman o face si anume ca se misca. Pe scurt, doamna, cu niste sani mici, dar un decolteu adanc, incerca sa dea indicatii, gesticuland. Rochia o trada aratandu-i sanii astfel ca doamna, constienta de vantul de vara care o mangaia obraznic, isi tinea cu o mana decolteul iar cu cealalta dadea directiuni, nervoasa.

Am crezut ca e o studenta senioara care e realmente nervoasa de ceva ce ar trebui sa marcheze un moment important in viata oricui. Absolvirea facultatii, asumarea profesiei alese. Primul pas spre maturizare.

Am ajuns la eveniment din cauza Dianei Bobina&Katiei Guzun, carora le vazusem un proiect care mi-a placut mult. Intrau in prezentare cu numarul 14, fiecare absolvent avand aprox 4-5 minute pentru prezentarea colectiei.

And then, hell unleashed. Am vazut primele 13 colectii despre care pot sa spun, apreciind tineretea creatorilor si locul nefericit in care s-au nascut, incercand in acelasi timp sa nu dau cu sabia cum usor mi-ar veni, ca au fost cel mult niste incercari, ebose, crochiuri. Muzica tare - foarte hip de altfel, haine prost croite din care nu am putut sa inteleg decat ca studentii de la moda stiu sa faca printuri digitale ( practic diferenta dintre acum 10 ani cand am terminat Artele, cand studentele de la moda vopseau boem materiale cu ceapa, cafea si daca aveau noroc, cirese amare, e ca imprimeul se face acum digital, deci mai precis, deci mai ochios )

Bobina&Guzun au ridicat atat de tare nivelul incat am plecat dupa prezentarea lor. Stiam sigur ca tot ce va urma, va fi suicid.

Colectia celor 2 moldovence a dat clasa. A aratat un concept simplu deci puternic care se comunica unitar prin toata colectia, executie ireprosabila ( am vazut hainele in backstage ), un interes real fata de tehnicile pe care le-au folosit, respect fata de materiale si ce a rezultat din procesul de productie a pieselor principale. Si in acelasi timp, o timiditate si un bun simt in fata carora nu pot decat sa ma inclin.

Daca pana la ele a mers Norzeatic si mult dubstep - ceea ce a facut lucrurile mai usor de suportat, prezentarea lor a fost aproape pe liniste. A existat momentum - in care te uitai la haine, la mersul incet si nesigur, natural al modelelor in picioarele goale si aveai fiori.

Am plecat de la eveniment cu tristetea unui om care, in proces de a deveni senior ( un om care spera, arogant, ca la un moment dat, va avea de impartasit lectii pretioase date de experienta ) recunoaste directia gresita in care juniorii tarii se dezvolta.

Am o voce puternica si cred ca conteaza ca oameni ca mine, in acelasi punct, proces, etc sa-si asume pozitia si sa spuna lucrurilor pe nume. Pana la urma progresul vine dupa dusuri reci.

Nu am vazut o directie mai gresita si mai ingusta la "Arte" de foarte mult timp. Mi se pare trist ca juniorii sunt fixati in manierisme mult prea devreme, ca sunt lipsiti - tocmai acum cand toata informatia e la picioarele lor - de un interes real fata de ce ar trebuie sa fie fashion. Fata de tehnicalitati, fata de metodologia lucrului facut bine, fata de conceptualizare profunda a profesiei pe care au ales-o.

Spre iesire, ascunsa de spectaculozitatea catwalk-ului am vazut si mi-a placut mult colectia de pantofi pe care Mihaela Glavan a facut-o pentru dizertatia de master. Extrem de bine documentata, perfect conceptualizata, minunat executata in tehnici greu de stapanit.

So, bottom line, not all hope is lost. Am vazut o colectie de haine care mi-a dat fiori si o instalatie cu pantofi bijuterie pe care imi venea sa-i iau acasa sa-i pun pe piedestal, scop in care au si fost creati.

O sa merg la acelasi eveniment si in 2013. Insa as vrea sa nu trebuiasca sa scot sabia si sa spun cuvinte urate. As vrea sa plec mai vesela decat am facut-o in seara asta.

Hai, ca se poate.

Let's all show some fucking passion. It makes all the difference.

LATER EDIT: Some ideas about graduating from brilliant James Victore.

Breaking news

The world belongs to those brazen.

Sparta versus Gomorra

While working on a bigger project, soon to be revealed, I played with my weapons and made this mini - collection of dresses. Inspired by beautiful pieces of history, by women being free, by embracing the sinner in you, while keeping it simple, this is an engineer's take on Sparta versus Gomorra.
I think they are awesome.

No hand of God

The power of habit is amazing. I have a new one. Every Tuesday I'm looking forward to James Victore's Q&A Tuesday or how he calls it, Meandyousday.

This Tuesday on greatness:

"Assume greatness. There is no hand of God who will come and touch you and make the phone ring. Don't wait for it. There is no secret handshake to greatness.

There is no party going on elsewhere that you're not part of. You are the party. You bring the party. You make the party. Assume greatness."

Gear is not important

When I swim I wear this Little black dress and I'm considering this one as well - ( their knee length makes me feel comfortable )

I have IMAX vision and they continue to be my choice after 1 year - but you should always try them on before buying.

I occasionally use these fins for building strong legs and I consider getting this for my arms.

I count my laps and other data using this.

I don't believe in dry hair when swimming so any cap will do.

I used to listen to music while swimming but it didn't help my focus so I stopped. I used this player but eventually the headphones got wet ( with all my special care ).

If you have questions or maybe other suggestions feel free to drop me a line.

Maps are overrated.

Who am I to tell you how to live your life? I don't like you telling me how to live mine.

But in order to really find out how we truly enjoy life, boyfriends, girlfriends, work, food, water temperature.... we need to take a step back and question our life's values, drives, engines and valves. Maybe on a regular basis.

I like people who do that. I reckon we all do it with death in mind, some deaths closer than others.

Here are 2 blogs that caught my eye and made me wonder about what was, is, might, should, could be worthy of interest.

Deliberatism and Linds Redding.

Pools in Bucharest

I'm far from being a good swimmer. I just practice a lot.

But since swimming is an important part of my life, I've been frequently asked about the best pool&gear.

As far as I'm concerned, I've tried several over the years and what I seek in a pool is perfect clean water, clean lockers, and if it's crowded I prefer people who swim to people who chat&kiss at the end of the lane.

And one more little detail - I like my pool blue - cause there is a black one, for the real depressed but posh swimmers.

1. Dinu Pescariu

been there for a couple of times.

+'s - 25 m, clean, far from crowded ( price I reckon )

-'s - the rather long corridor between the pool and locker area, price.

2. World Class Downtown.

used this one for 1.5 years

+'s - the price

-'s - 22m, really crowded if you go there to swim, crowded lockers as in walking naked silicon valley (boys, it's not pretty, trust me)

3. IDM - my recommendation

using it since November.

+'s - 25m, price, cleanest water ever, not crowded

-'s - the clerks.

4. Olympic Pool - Izvorani

++ 50m, great water.

I'd swim there everyday, but since it's out of town, it just counts as one of the coolest pools ever, not your everyday swim.

It's open to public but you need to call first.

5. Dinamo - outdoor

if you don't mind seeing the occasional leaf - from the trees near, it's perfect for summer week-days, early evening swims.

50m, clean water.

avoid during the week-end - it's very crowded.

Hope this is helpful.

I'll get back with a post about gear.

The world is dead - Long live the world.

Been preparing this post for a while and now it's time to share my thoughts.

When I was a kid, I used to have a nightmare - over and over again. I was locked in this house with no doors, just windows and the house was slowly flooding. Concrete grey all over. And my darkest fear was that water is going to reach the plugs and I'm going to die electrocuted.

I told my mom about it - she said that even in dreams I can stop it and dream about something else. It's true. I never had that dream ever again.

My 2011 was like a nightmare battle where you keep fighting but you're not getting anywhere. You want to prove yourself and the whole world that you're the absolute best.

You have no idea who you're fighting with. You know that you simply have to keep doing it cause... wait. And you stop. Why do I have to do this? I'm way too tired for this and I don't like this armour. It doesn't match my eyes.

And you drop your weapons and say, fuck it. I quit.

When you drop the sword, the battle stops and suddenly everything is changed. It's not a battle anymore. It's a dance in the dark. You have no idea how to do it. You heard about people elegantly moving together but you have no idea how to do it. Oh wait, there's music. Oh my, so many new things.

And you start moving, led by something you can't explain. You're clumsy as hell and you feel ashamed, naked in a ballroom where everyone seems perfect.

And then, the ballroom warms slowly by guiding floating lights and you have a pretty dress and a tiara and you're not that bad. You're still very clumsy and still scared but there are some people smiling at you while you unintentionally step on somebody's foot, light is complementing your eyes and you trust yourself to keep doing this new thing, even if you're not very good at it.

Color and love flood the space behind your eyes.

I wanted this post to be a confession about the many things I've began to see only this year.

I pictured it smart and full of wiseness. Instead all I could write is ( if you've reached this far ) what you've already read.

I was blessed with pain and guiding lights disguised as people teaching me, tenderly and sometimes not so tenderly about music, vulnerability, friendship and love.

Thank you beautiful people in my life.

I like dancing with you. I can only hope I'm not stepping on your foot too much.

Keep on teaching me new moves please.

I wish we all have an elegant year no matter what the DJ plays.

Untitled - mainly about music.

My last year taught me so many things. I think that spelling them out would feel like coming out to shore after a dark&troubled night on the sea, guided by blissful lighthouses. Peaceful, thankful and hopefully, wiser.

And since I'm preparing it like it deserves, I thought a lot about the matching music.

Enjoy mighty Cinematic Orchestra's lastest work.

Second best

I went to a swimming competition yesterday. A serious one.

I enjoy swimming a lot but I never fooled myself that I'm really good. I got 2 medals, silver for 50m freestyle and gold for 400m freestyle. But due to a minor logistic issue, I didn't get the actual gold medal, the object . Don't get me wrong, I got the no. 1 diploma and there are pictures of me high on the platform, but I don't have the medal. At first I was a bit disappointed. Cause I like medals.

But later I realized that I love my silver medal more and I don't need the gold one.

It became my favorite and most precious belonging at the moment. I'm wearing it as I write this.

It's a constant reminder not to settle, that there will always be something or someone to look up to. Thank God for that.

Photo by Toth Eniko

Nostalgia

For me, Mad Men never did it. I have no idea why. Everyone around me loved it. I didn't manage to go pass episode 4. But in this mash-up, Don Draper says something that caught my attention.

He talks about nostalgia and how important it is in advertising.

" It's delicate but potent(..) nostalgia literally means the pain from an old wound, it's a twinge in the heart, far more powerful than the memory alone"

Wikipedia doesn't literally agree, Bruce McCall says that nostalgia is one of the most utterly useless human emotions, but I like Don Draper's version (cause I'm a sucker for nice words)

Well, tonight, nostalgia got me very excited. So while listening to this, oh my, so impossibly sweet song, I'm happy to be nostalgic.

Candy anyone?