We usually met at seven in the evening.
There was nobody who could see us there.
I noticed we have no shadows.
We were here.
The masks represent an archaic world rooted in the Romanian mythology of the iele nymphs, rendering the distorted faces of those who have witnessed their profane dance and song. Together, the masks form a dialogue made of scattered memories in a-temporal spaces, revealing the transitional process towards the sacred.
The trees seemed darker, the air was unbreathable, the sun was lost.
At five years old I fell from the walnut tree we had in our garden.