Incurajari de vreme rece

„It’s hard, hard not to sit on your hands

And bury your head in the sand

Hard not to make other plans

And claim that you’ve done all you can

all along

But life must go on.
 

It’s hard, hard to stand up for what’s right

And bring home the bacon each night

Hard not to break down and cry

When every idea that you’ve tried has been wrong

But you must carry on.
 

It’s hard but you know it’s worth the fight

‘cause you know you’ve got the truth on your side

When the accusations fly, hold tight

Don’t be afraid of what they’ll say

Who cares what cowards think anyway?

They will understand one day, one day..
 

It’s hard, hard when you’re here all alone

And everyone one else has gone home

Harder to know right from wrong

When all objectivity’s gone

And it’s gone

But you still carry on

‘cause you, you are the only one left

And you’ve got to clean up this mess

You know you’ll end up like the rest

Bitter and twisted, unless

You stay strong and you carry on
 

It’s hard but you know it’s worth the fight

‘cause you know you’ve got the truth on your side

When the accusations fly, hold tight and

Don’t be afraid of what they’ll say

Who cares what cowards think anyway?

They will understand one day, one day..”

Yann Tiersen – Les jours tristes

 
 

Turiști prin viață

Am ieșit să facem câțiva pași împreună să vedem orașul, fără să cumpărăm nici un suvenir și totuși să fim întrebați dacă suntem turiști. După nouăsprezece ani ai mei și cinci ai tăi aveam aerul unor turiști. E mai palpitant și oricum nu mai contează, pentru tine tot moldovean am rămas, doar că vorbesc mai puțin. Mergeam tăcuți și fiecare se întreba dacă mai are nevoie de rădăcini. La un moment dat strada devenise interesantă și ne-am oprit amândoi să facem poze.

 Cladirea cu iedera in centrul orasului

Grand Place

Vitrina

Stand cu picturi in acuarela in Grand Place

Fără noimă

Când ard câmpiile ai să’nțelegi…
Atunci să vii!
Cărări greșite.
E prea târziu s’ajungi, să stai, să pleci;
E prea târziu să spui ceva.
Zâmbet pe buze,
Rosturi neștiute.

 

 

Nebun calificat

11:48 Cand ajungi sa nu-ti mai pese cand ii surprinzi pe ceilalti din interior, adica acei privitori, zambind ca te-au vazut vorbind singur pe strada, atunci esti un nebun calificat. Cand nu-i mai surprinzi, atunci esti doar nebun.

 

 

My sunny garden on Sunday afternoon

It is a communal garden which no one uses really. To me she is an oasis in the polluted Brussels and to what resides on the other side of the building. She is one reason I haven’t moved somewhere else yet.

My garden in Brussels

 

Tzitzi din gradina

 

 

Against monochrome

At noon today I walked out from the office into a November drizzle. At the top of the road I turn right and I saw this bike chained on a sign post. The two flowers applied to the basket stood out against a monochrome background. I kept walking but their image lingered so when I returned I took a picture.

Friday noon in Etterbeek, Brussels

The wareoffice

One sunny morning I found myself back in T. and A.’ s office. I returned to work for them having left their company in 2004. I was impressed by the sheer size of their new quarters practically of warehouse proportions. A short corridor led into the ginormous space.

Away from the entrance, two thirds of the territory was filled up with tele-marketing staff. Black headphones with large ear cushions sat on identical heads with faces  impossible to remember. They spread symmetrically like pawns occupying an entire chess table disappearing into the unlit part of the office.

The remaining third, or a very small fraction of the indeterminable room, was used by directors, accounts and  executives. T.  and  A.  chose two desks between those people but not next to each other as I used to know them. Those people were mainly women amongst which two were most active. There were no partitions, cubicles or walls to separate the cohabiting departments of the same enterprise. No, this was not a newspaper agency, was a new media software house.

The noise… There was a noise of constant intensity filling up the space. It never oscillated. It sat at a level impossible to neither accept or to reject. It was so that you could just about hear the person addressing you,  a muffled hum you could get used to, in time, as everyone there seemed to have.

As it was the first day of my return, T. greeted me with a friendly businessy smile.  I smiled back wondering if it was a heartfelt greeting as when almost-friends  meet after many years. Hard to tell. I gladly accepted the smile and dismissed any seed of doubt. A firm handshake and a brief chat standing by the entrance led to a walk through the short corridor and into the wareoffice.  Once there T. walked elegantly back to his desk rounded by busy people. I was now standing alone on an empty spot where I could diagonally watch the entire space.

A.’s desk was facing the tele-sale crowd in a classroom-like layout. Himself was having an intense conversation on the
phone. The moment I blinked he snapped up and shouted toward everyone in the room but I could not hear what. As result, the engulfing noise faded out. A. sat back in his chair and resumed his conversation, elbows resting on the
desk, his chin lowered and the receiver fencing his mouth.

My eyes were swiping the room looking for any area that would indicate the development team camp. No such indices. I started walking toward the darker part of the office. The space around the enterprise seemed to
expand and contract as I walked toward and away from its set-up. After a short while I reached the back of the wareoffice whose walls of MDF (Medium density fibreboard) had two openings cut in them. It was very quiet here. The telesale people disappeared behind me. Each opening indicated that on the other side of the wall there is plenty of light and the two rooms could have very large windows. Neither cut had door and through the one on the left I could see that the room was actually a toilet with sparkling white enamel sinks glinting in the white light. I turned and walked toward the other opening. This was covered negligently with the rectangular MDF board once part of the wall, now hanging in one nail above the upper edge of the cut. Light was spilling out through the gaps created by the incongruity of its position. Voices of men could be heard inside. It must have been the developers’s room. By now I was standing in front of the loose panel watching the fringe of light and wondered why T. and A. didn’t choose it for their office, a far better option than the poorly lit and noisy wareoffice. 

My train of thoughts was suddenly interrupted by the realisation that I could not work here. When I told T. that I cannot work because I haven’t given my month notice on the other job, I  read repugnance. The red haired woman leaned over her desk and shouted something at me but again, all I could hear was the levelled noise of work.

Driving photography

I almost exclusively use my car for long holiday trips and without the daily commute, travelling alone is not a daunting routine anymore. I pass the time listening to a few audio books and I spicy it up with taking photographs of the beautiful scenery available. My photo gear is placed handy on the front seat or behind my chair on the floor for easy access during the driving breaks.

The motorways in Germany have not only the intrinsic quality derived from a good design but combined with favourable weather conditions they have a great potential for taking some amazing photographs. Some parking places offer a great view.

On my last trip through Germany I wanted to try something new. I wanted to take pictures whilst driving. A slight hazard but the experience was entertaining. Actually, the reason I did it this way was that, I didn’t want the journey to become a drag because of my rambling through the fields around the car parks and some interesting sites were not accessible without stopping the car on the hard shoulder. (On previous trips I lost the track of time especially when photographing cars at high speed practising camera panning and as a result my family started calling  to find out why I am taking so long. To blame? The traffic, of course.)

Here are some shots taken with my compact Fuji Finepix EXR550 and I think the results are not too bad. I did some level adjustments and slight sharpening (Unsharp Mask) in Photoshop before resizing and uploading. For most pictures the camera was on Shutter Speed priority @ 1/250 or 1/320 to freeze the „moving” scenery as my car was rolling at about 120km/h.

Taking the pictures this way, I realised how fast the auto-focusing on this little camera is. With and without zoom. Amazing!

I must mentioned the disappointment I had trying the same type of pictures with my 7D mounted with a 17-40mm f4 L lense. As with any new thing I wanted to give it some credit but I abandoned any further attempts as the lense was hunting indefinitely. Useless! It just would not focus where Fuji locked the subject almost instantaneously.

Germany (Oct-Nov 2013)

 

Poland

Motorway E40 cutting through forest. Poland

Historic site on motorway E40. Poland

Halloween letter

Ma intrebasesi cum sunt polonezii. Tin minte toate intrebarile tale chiar daca nu ti-am raspuns imediat.
Azi (si) ei sarbatoresc Ziua Mortilor. Halloweenul – creatie occidentala inventata de pediatrii cred. Faptul ca nu s-au aprovizionat cu bostanei explica respectul lor  pentru valorile traditionale . Cel putin aici in acest oras de provincie.

Pe scurt, sunt muncitori, incapatanati, isi dau interesul, au simtul lucrului bine facut si-si iubesc copiii mai mult ca orice. Degaja vigoarea unei natiuni reintinerite dornice. Uneori am impresia ca sunt incuiati sau putin fixisti. Pastreaza un nationalism nordic atenuat. Cand nu te afli in orase mari simti prezenta unei afirmatii nefacute: You’re not welcome! Sunt diferiti de noi dar nu vreau sa le fac o nedreptate afirmand chestii neverificate.

Ca sa-ti dai seama cum sunt, poti s-o vezi si din respectul pe care-l poarta celor care ‘au fost’. Sa iesi noaptea pe strada la data de 1 Noiembrie. Acolo se vede toata suflarea poloneza, vigoarea si spiritul lor solidar. Cam cum ar fi Pastele la noi dar fara bairamuri. In aceasta noapte vii stau la masa cu mortii.

Anul asta si vremea sarbatoreste 1 Noiembrie. Latitudinea la care suntem ofera un iz prematur de iarna arctica. Ziua sunt mai aproape de soare iar noaptea de stele.  Asa ca am tinut neaparat sa fac cateva fotografii noaptea (aseara). Am facut o poza in cimitir apoi am cautat o coama de deal de unde se puteau vedea luminile ce impinzesc valea Scavei. Sper sa-ti placa.

Ti-am trimis si un desen pe care l-am facut cu L. A fost ideea ei sa desenam Halloween-ul (stii!). Cateodata ma intreb ce-i in mintea ei.

(PS: Chiar ma gandeam cine te putea surprinde in momentele alea speciale…)

Flower selling before The Day of The Dead, Poland

Day of the Dead flower selling by the cemetery. Poland

Day of the Dead. Sucha Cemetery, Poland

Skawa Valley, Poland. 31 October

Halloween drawing with L.