One late autumn day in 1982, two couples spent a night at the Horezu Monastery with their kids. The next morning they were going to gather chestnuts in the woods nearby. But when they woke up, a thick layer of snow had covered everything, blinding white.
So we went for a walk in the woods instead. On the way back, I climbed on a gate to avoid being trampled on by the cows returning to the village in the evening. Clouds of steam from her nostrils. A cow stopped, turned and licked my face.
Every winter on the first day of snow my mind goes back to that morning. The peace of that monastery, the order that seems to come to this world along with the snow.
2008. On November 27, I got fired. One day after my 30th birthday. It wasn’t even the first time I got “restructured”, but it was a painful one. We had played “happy family” for some time at the office, now we started playing “last in first out”. It taught me that one dreams and grows alone. And the world doesn’t end with that nice job in a cosy architecture office.
2013, November 24. We met again by chance in some bar. We danced like crazy, almost like that first time when you whirled me around, then suddenly lost your balance and let go. Outside on the sidewalk, your dreamy smile, “where should we go now, somewhere nice.”
“We could go to my place, this time”, I said. “But it’s still under construction, I don’t live there yet.” Let’s.
First time I got to sleep here, on a huge towel in the middle of the room, the silhouette of furniture dressed in some old sheets, leaning against the wall. That foggy morning. Housewarming. #whiteshirtproject #whiteshirt #linen
1999, November 22, I left Bucharest.
Excited: I would go to Germany on an Erasmus year. As sweet revenge for having failed the first attempt at high school admission 2 years earlier! Goodbye home of my quarrelsome teenage years, goodbye to all boundaries! Hello world!
I was going to travel and I would discover and I would love and it will all be worth it.
On my road, I shed so many skins. For every skin, I’ll post a shirt (and a memory). Come along.