DASHA | Killing Eve S3

Meet DASHA and don’t try to mess with her! 

I can finally let it all out and scream about it. It makes me so very proud and excited to be a small part of this incredible production!!! I cannot thank enough all the people that became an important element of this beautiful journey into an exquisite unknown.

It is said that you have to throw your dreams into space like a kite, because you never know what they will bring you back. This is my first professional job after graduating last year from the BA Acting International course at East 15 Acting School. To be frank, it has been a long long journey (and it is more to come), but, no matter how individualistic it may sound, I genuinely want to thank myself, for not giving up, still swimming/ moving/ flying forward and wanting to inspire. 

With this astounding experience, I also met and worked alongside wonderful people that motivated every cell inside of me. They made me feel like I am part of the family and that this (the set/ the Universe they created/ the work/ the ambiance/ the passion for this job/ the pleasure while doing the thing you love the most) is where I belong. I don’t even know why, but I think what excited and terrified me the most was meeting the director, Terry McDonough. I was overthinking, as usual. Eventually, he met me with a big smile, an incredible energy and truly inspired me. Terry, if you ever stumble upon this, even though it sounds weird, know that I still have the flower (from the scene) that you gave me and that your last words are still stuck with me. Haha. 

And lastly, if you don’t know what to do with your post-breakup broken heart, my advise: just give it to the character. 😉  #dontmesswithdasha


This video is plucked right from the bottom of my soul. Maybe it will bring a spark of hope into your hearts as well.

This is a story of returning home. Home to ourselves.


There is something utterly beautiful when taking a photograph with a film camera. You catch yourself counting each detail, adjusting the lens, the light, you ask people to stay still or you take the picture as fast as possible as you know that all you have is one little chance. One chance to capture the roughness, sensibility, the chaos of a moment. You freeze ‘a past’ that becomes rich and full in ‘a future’.  

Somehow I realised that you have to feel what you’re looking at, because if you don’t, you’re never going to get others to touch that frozen reality with their perceptions. You let them participate in another moment’s mortality, vulnerability, mutability. Precisely by slicing out that second and freezing it, so it could melt again through their subconscious. 

These are some of the photographs I took with Canon EOS 300v. Some of them I love, with the others I feel like I could’ve done better, i’ve also failed royaly with my first film roll, but it’s a good beginning.  

O fărâmă de suflet.

Din punctul de vedere al copacilor,
soarele-i o dungă de căldură,
oamenii – o emoție copleșitoare…
Ei sunt niște fructe plimbătoare
ale unui pom cu mult mai mare !

Din punctul de vedere al pietrelor,
soarele-i o piatră căzătoare,
oamenii-s o lină apăsare…
Sunt mișcare-adăugată la mișcare,
și lumina ce-o zărești, din soare !

Din punctul de vedere al aerului,
soarele-i un aer plin de păsări,
aripă în aripă zbătând.
Oamenii sunt păsări nemaiîntâlnite,
cu aripule crescute înăuntru,
care bat, plutind, planând,
într-un aer mai curat – care e gândul!

Nichita Stanescu – Lauda omului

From the tree’s perception,
the sun is a lace of warmth,
people – an astounding emotion.
They are wandering fruits
that once belonged to an even greater tree!

From the stone’s perception,
the sun is a falling stone,
people are a gentle touch.
They are a motion added to a motion,
and a beam of light that traveled from the sun!

From the air’s perception,
the sun is an air full of birds,
pulping wing in wing.
People are rare, extraordinary birds,
with grown inwards wings,
that fly, float, hover,
in a more graceful air –
which is the thought.

This year has taught me that certain things are like the point where the rainbow touches the forest. We think that we can see it—but if we go to look for it, it isn’t there. And it is the same with people’s feelings, their words, their beings and promises, it is the same with our desires which mean nothing until we give them shape and make the invisible cloud – visible. Touchable. This year I’ve witnessed my feelings kneeling down and my minutes, as if belonging to a mechanic clock, fading away with passers by. But how beautiful when, through the chaos, you see through. I put my wings to dry in the sun, learnt not to fall into someone else’s distorted gravity, but allow my steps, eyes, fingers, feelings, glances, thoughts to try new paths. Ah! I am so so thankful! And, being frank, i feel it, though every pore of my skin, that all this beauty, happiness, gracefulness of the world, all this love that keeps pulsing through me, all the poetic people that stepped into my life, all the opportunities that took shape and are yet to come – everything is just the beginning of something beyond beautiful.

poate apusul de soare e doar rasaritul vazut de la spate


Aud vocile oamenilor
si mi se impletesc in cap
un milion de ani lumina
pana am vazut zecile de semne
in cartea scrisa cu ochii tai
ca un rasarit infinit
sau ca niste carbune care licaresc
in intimitatea serii pustii.
Ma doare?
Sunt si nu sunt
pasarea care moare atunci cand e mai vie ca niciodata.
Sunt prin ranile eroilor ce au pierdut in iubire.
Sunt la patru noaptea in bucatarie
cand privesc spre cele mai absurde discutii.
Sunt cand nu vreau sa fiu
un nor ce ploua lacrimile pierdute de mult timp
prin ochii mei pustii.
As vrea oare sa dispar,
sa ma transpun in apa
si sa-ti oglindesc idealurile lumii putrede?
Vad cum oasele se transforma in cruci
pe amintirile perfect simetrice
de parca toata substanta mea poetica
a fost menita exact pentru asta.

I hear the voices of people
and inside of my head,
thousands of years of light are braiding
until i finally see all the symbols
in the book written with your eyes.
Like an infinite sunrise
or flickering embers
in the intimacy of a senseless night.
I am and i am not
the bird that dies the moment
she lives life the most.
I am through the wounds of the heroes
that lost through love.
I am at 4am in the kitchen
when i look at the most absurd fusions
and i don’t want to be.
I am a cloud that rains tears
that got lost for a while
through my empty eyes.
Would i want to disappear
and transpose into a water
that would mirror the ideals of a rotten world?
I see the bones that alter into crosses
fixed on perfect symmetrical memories,
as if all my poetic substance
was meant to exist exactly for that reason.



First there was the sky, then there were the trees, out of them rose a hill, on the top of the hill an architectural masterpiece came to be, marking a city and the world of eternity.

I got lost in this city that didn’t even know me. People were speaking words, the musicality of which, i couldn’t understand. I walked the narrow streets and fell in love with an empty concrete jungle whose life used to whisper from behind the corners. I wandered around with absolute carefulness, not wanting to disturb the leaves and the stones that fell asleep long before i stepped these grounds.

Suddenly, in the distance, the sound of church bells and a sunset, covering the white concrete jungle village with its light. I sank together with it.


I came to the UK after I finished my studies in Chisinau. It was a spontaneous decision as I wanted to do an acting degree in ‘the place’ (London) that kept haunting my dreams.

I still remember getting accepted into the Staffordshire University (which is almost 300km from London) and leaving behind everything I was so used to in order to make a childish dream come true. I felt alienated from each one of my classmates and people in general, my English was quite broken, I was shy, had too much free time on my hands, couldn’t cook and was quite bad at making friends. I was scared, yet there was something out there, calling, so I decided to apply for drama schools again. For your personal knowledge, they usually accept 16 people per course.

I kept traveling back and forth, during most of my weekends, from Stoke-on-Trent to London, just to try my luck into getting where I wanted to be. I remember getting lost so many times in this jungle of a city, delivering my monologues while being a chicken or a Nazi, spending my days alone near Thames and hoping. I kept on dreaming. Sometimes I think that’s the only right thing to do. To dream. To live hoping that one day you’ll make it.

I finally got accepted into East 15 Acting School, Cert HE course, which is just one year of training before applying again to get a ‘proper’ degree. It wasn’t what I wanted but sometimes you just have to take every drop of courage that you have and just go for it. Eventually, when you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it.

It was still far away from London. Southend-on-Sea swallowed into its seashore not only the mesmerising sunsets, but also me. Later that year, being accepted into BA Acting (International), in London,  I realised that I had lost myself somewhere on the way. I had the prize in my hands, yet there was nothing to be happy about. I stepped through the gates of East 15 and acknowledged, for the first time, that i had an enormous hole eating me from the inside. I was lonely. There were always two women, at least, inside of me: one woman desperate and bewildered, who felt she was drowning and another who would leap into a scene, dance like there is no tomorrow, wild and spontaneous, masking her true emotions because they were weaknesses, helplessness, despair, and present to the world only a smile, an eagerness, curiosity, enthusiasm, interest…

During my first year it got worse and I wanted to drop everything, yet I found people that made me realise that all of us grow in different dimensions, unevenly. We are relative. We are mature in one realm, childish in another. The past, present, and future mingle and pull us backward, forward, but it fixes us all, eventually.  I understood that we are made up of layers, cells, constellations. All of us. Through their love, I finally realised that I should love and accept myself. I started to create, write, play, act, exist, live, love, give, take and simply be.  I made friends, fell in love (deeply and genuinely), wrote a play, got to be f*cking Hamlet (ahhh!) and explored myself.

Five years later I finally graduated. YAY! And I also signed with HARVEY STEIN ASSOCIATES at the end of this May, so double or even triple YAY!

Just a little reminder: Sometimes we should be a little proud of ourselves, because when we look back at things, they actually matter.

More pictures:
EAST 15 Acting School


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.




Thoughts (8 oct 2017)

Processed with VSCO with a6 preset

My mind is a waterfall of thoughts and any amount of words seem either too little or too much. I was falling. Falling through time and space, stars, sky and everything in between. I fell for days and weeks and what i felt like was a lifetime across lifetimes. It terrified me until i forgot i was falling. And in that floating moment i understood that all this time i looked at my own existence through a different pair of eyes. If you think about it, even the process of falling might seem exciting in a way.

I am not scared anymore. Maybe a little.

Actually, even if i am somewhere in between, or on the ground, looking at the beautiful sky through my window or enjoying his kiss while someone plays Philip Glass on the streets of London; even if the pain, like arrows, broke through my eyes and fell on the cheeks or if i am swimming through the notes of a sad song just because i enjoy the melancholy of the moment; even if i am re-reading my favorite book or if his touches are so full of intention that every brush of his palms feel like he is writing a novel on my skin – I want to relish the intensity of that moment. I am happy to finally feel alive. Thank you.