Fiori.

Coming home to Moldova is like jumping back in time to a place stuck in between the hands of a clock. A place where the people, architecture, ideologies, roads, nature were left behind in the whirlwind of fate. A country of contrasts that can both baffle and impress you.

Yet to me it appears to be a gem that forgot its uniqueness. Perchance i am simply lured by the small unseen things this world is hiding, or it just happens to be that this post-soviet country appears to my eyes as a cinematic inspiration.

From Chisinau to Orhei to Odessa (Ukraine) to Drepcauti and back to Chisinau. A week that shook the British depressive rain from my bones and aroused something special in the gasps of my irises.

I held my grandparents’ hands and saw that time is cruel, walked the broken roads of my childhood, shared the most beautiful seconds with my incredible parents, had ‘deep conversations’ with my 5 cats, saw the infinity of the sky that is like a roof fretted with golden fire, kissed the sea and the sun in Odessa, threw away some of my insecurities, reconnected with theatre, felt new emotions, fell in love with my friends and their minds, had great Moldovan wine and a loooong talk with an insanely brave and creative soul that got lost somewhere in my past, danced like there is no tomorrow, wrote cosmic poems in the middle of the night with my beyond wonderful friend and found a beam of happiness.

And now, with coffee in between the clouds and kisses by the sun i will make the world happen.