Introduction

With so much content available today, we have adopted a fast-paced mindset that doesn’t encourage us to truly value the information we encounter online. I want to slow down, highlight meaningful moments, and take the time to reflect on them.

01. Backtracking

This journal began as a meaningful way to cope with losing a parent.

My siblings and I never really got to know him. I found at some point a short text he had written. It was a recollection of a summer night. He would describe the stars and contemplate the universe and existence in a moment to himself.

I can also recall little bits of core memories, but unfortunately, most of them have faded into a blur. We played football, he taught us physics, he would often drive us to school. But, most importantly, he taught us a methodical way of thinking.

What followed were years of confusion.

I did not actively pursue photography initially. A friend forgot a camera at my place and I tried it out of curiosity.

Witnessing the world through the viewfinder allowed me to be present in the moment.

It wasn’t long until I moved to Bucharest to study.

Moving here wasn’t much of a decision. My siblings and I only had one direction that seemed to make sense at the time. I believe life simply pushes you one way or another. You either struggle against the wave, or you accept what’s being thrown at you and make the best of it.

Initially, I failed the university admission exam, scoring only 3 points out of 10. This wasn’t due to lack of knowledge and preparation on my part. I was simply too distressed to focus throughout the exam

Two weeks later the admission for interior design studies took place and I took advantage of that timing. It felt like a compromise at first. There’s a stigma around students who fail to get into architecture the first time and then try again with interior design.

I didn’t have time to prepare for this new exam, it required a different skill set. My training had been strictly technical and oriented towards architecture. I had little sensitivity to color, yet the exam required me to paint by hand and clearly express both a design concept and a chromatic scheme.

All I had was a blue crayon, but the judges saw saw beyond my shortcomings and I was admitted. I would soon discover just how special and artistic my studies in interior design would be. I decided it was meant to be, and I never looked back.

The image above was taken along the hallway of the architecture student dormitory.

I always thought it looked like the hallway of a psychiatric ward. I captured this image on a Tuesday evening, when everyone was tired from working on their projects and had little desire to socialize.

By Friday, the atmosphere would change completely. We would sometimes take down the white fluorescent tubes from the ceiling and replace them with two or three UV blacklight tubes. The party would then stretch along the hallway, spilling from room to room.