i’ve been living in bucharest for ten years. growing up in a city where all the streets were straight lines, coming here gave me a feeling of disorientation. how do you get to know a city? how does it become a part of yourself? through the path from where you live to school, the path from where you live to work, the path from work to the studio. i’ve started exploring the neighborhood, the Bucharest periphery, only after the first three or four months of this year which I spent mostly indoors, nowhere to be, nowhere to go. after this period when my usual path was from the desk to the kitchen, i’ve started taking short walks around the block, ‘to get some sun’, as recommended. to keep me on the go. like listening to the same song on repeat, until it flows into your veins. until it becomes you.
in a hunger to live like unlike before
like repeating a word in your head so that you’ll remember what to ask at the store – when you are sent to buy something when you are little -, i took this walk for days, getting accustomed to it, getting to know the surroundings until they became a blur. the only thing that was left was: what have i missed while walking? revisiting this path recently, i realized that it was the closest thing – the ground, and the farthest thing – the sky, the ones that usually don’t come at sight, since we are not accustomed to look those ways and walk at the same time. but when you get accustomed to something, it becomes a conditioned reflex, you already know without being aware of it, where to go, how to act.
i’m worn, tired of my mind
i would still totally get lost in this city, but i could always retrace the paths that i have worn before. and that’s maybe one way of slowly knowing it.