The only thing I remember is getting lost, getting lost in Borca.
This is what I have left: that upsetting feeling of having wandered day and night with no fixed goal, no destination.
My body wandered like a transitient presence in the pure gesture of discovery…
Now in my mind, and in my notebook, a few traces of a tortuous path remain; a maze of ideas and corridors, of stories and stratifications, of signs and elements enclosed in an uncertain temporality.
Frightened, insecure, but at the same time reassured by a daily feeling of harmony, I harbour a strong interest in regards to knowing and recognizing the place I visited in my journey, to listen to its story, to make it domestic and familiar.
To do that, I need to create a relationship with it, I need to listen to what this place has to say through its silence.
Photo: Giaime Meloni