Control Locus /

nu știu să fac nimic. nu știu ce înseamnă cuvintele. nu știu să vorbesc despre politică sau control locus.

odată, am auzit la știri că s-au vândut cinci sute de bilete de tren, într-un singur vagon. călătorii au stat în picioare de la iași la bucurești, în timp ce una din cinci școli sătești, nu are o baie în clădire. Noaptea, când eram mică și mai petreceam zile de vacanță la bunici, la sat, trebuia să merg la veceu afară, în curte. pe întuneric, pentru că nu mă vedea nimeni, mă opream la jumătatea drumului și mă pișam pe primul petec de iarbă pe care puneam piciorul.

Locus of control is one of the four dimensions of core self-evaluations along with neuroticism, self-efficacy and self-esteem

neuroticism: my vagina doesn’t heal people, they all die inside of me
self-esteem: I don’t have a lot of memories.
I don’t remember hiking through villages in search of special rocks, encountering dangers (- – snakes). I do remember some dreams and travels, but I don’t know if they were real or I invented them.

Inventatorilor de vise. Adunătorilor de amintiri – – boabele alea de cafea pe care nu le mai poți scoate de după frigider, și care stau cu anii, ascunse, construindu-și cercuri concentrice (din afară înspre înauntru: oraș cu 11 mii de locuitori, bloc cu 4 etaje, încăperi fără lumină și închise cu cheia, o cameră care dă în alta – sau doar mi-am imaginat – un pat sau două sau trei, o lingură de vin de casă și eu, privind tavanul, la 2 ani e prea devreme să fii certată cu dumnezeu, te cerți pe la 16, când cineva ți-a furat fusta gen camuflaj din uscătorul de la etajul 1)



the Failed Diaries

bobby is smoking his cigarette outside the shop he’s got
tattoos from god knows what ancient time
what is your dream?
I could live anywhere in a big city in a small farm in the countryside in the mountains

at the seaside 
I really don’t care
I could travel to your dream place
bobby has his name tattooed on his neck
bobby has these insecurities like dodgy off-licence shops
in bethnal green which is la great area lovely atmosphere

you came to me whispering I heard you wrote some poems like a drug dealer would ask you want some dope? my hands were
I said sure anytime you want but then I realized what if you don’t what if 
I’m still waiting
your laugh was so genuine I haven’t heard anyone laugh like that in a very long time

bobby doesn’t have a car
he used to drive when he was younger now he’s taking the train

View original post 7 more words

Transylvania International Film Festival is over and I still haven’t published this post*

*it’s been an incredible journey through such inspiring stories. Can’t wait for the next one!!!

A 14 year old reindeer-breading Sámi girl exposed to racism in the ’30. A realistic (yet beautiful) view on the Romanian – British relationship as seen when falling in love. A lost watch. Teenage boys and their journey into adulthood and a movie I really wanted to see but missed. A local competition. A modern Oedipus complex and an interactive film. But first things first.

Sameblod (Sami Blood, Sweden, Denmark, Norway 2017)

Although it might seem a bit predictable, Sami Blood awakens emotions that are, in fairness, long gone. At first, I wanted to call it “the Swedish Titanic”, the structure resembles a tiny bit – the old lady returning to a place filled with (her own) history, and memories unleash. But it’s surprisingly delicate, touches not only racism issues but feminism and an educational system completely different from how we know it now, in a Nordic country. Personally, it reminded me of everything I knew about being close to your siblings: love, trust, forgiveness.

And somehow, I don’t quite understand why this wasn’t part of the competition, but the next one – Heart stone – was. Not that it’s bad, but it’s not that good. Or is it?

Hjartasteinn (Heart stone, Denmark, Iceland 2016)

Yes, it actually is. I was speechless. We’re not (yet) an educated public, as much as we’d like to pride ourselves with. We’re not quite there yet. And the response the movie had was – including from my side, after the screening – that it was a bit too romantic. Truth is, we should give it a second chance. We might not see it now, but there is a magic twist and bits and bobs of authentic being. 

God’s own country (UK, 2017)

“…until the arrival of a Romanian migrant worker for lambing season ignites an intense relationship that sets Johnny on a new path”. Well, I think it’s much more than that. After its premiere at the UK Edinburgh Film Festival in May, some people named it the British Brokeback Mountain, which I wont say it’s not, but as a Romanian myself, I saw things a bit differently aka the making of sheep cheese, Gheorghe’s resistance to insults and xenophobia when he’s being called a “dirty gypsy”. Funny thing, Francis Lee – the director and the Romanian casting director both agreed that it was way easier to find an actor for one of the main roles in Romania than it was in the UK.


Zeus (Mexico, 2016)

A curious story based on Oedipus complex and falconry. Curious, weird, awkward, strange, authentic and unapologetic. I can’t say it was my favourite, but it certainly has a special place on my list. Miguel Calderón uses photography, video and novel writing to create his stories and his work was featured in Wes Anderson’s The Royal Tenenbaums.

Slava (Glory, Bulgaria, Greece 2016)

This Bulgarian tale of corruption and bureaucracy couldn’t have had a better public! It might seem odd and out of time for a Westerner, but the sad truth is that we’re still living it. When Tsanko Petrov, a railroad worker, finds millions of leva on the train tracks, he decides to turn the entire amount over to the police. Unfortunately, his luck changes (not in a good way) and everything falls in a desperate search for the here and now, as Tsanko’s two new watches skip time. Looks a bit like a contemporary poem.

Late Shift (UK, 2016)

Late Shift is the world’s first cinematic interactive movie and I’m super happy I got to see/ make it happen. I have to be honest, I was a little sceptic when I saw everyone with their phones in hand, ready to change (almost) every step and a little worried that it would be gaming, not watching a feature film. Now that I saw the trailer, it doesn’t look a bit like the the Late Shift on the screen!


Fixeur (The Fixer, Romania, 2016)

Toronto 2016, Tokyo 2016, Les Arcs 2016, Stockholm 2016, Vilnius 2017, BAFICI 2017 and now TIFF. Would have been difficult to watch if not for the specific (black) humour of the Romanian creativity. Loved it. Would watch it again and again.


un ǵüveç de primăvară

the Failed Diaries

Colaj de versuri la întâmplare

Priveam dinafară fereastra
final de secol
din neguri, râsete de crocodil
– elle m’avait enfin retrouvé sans m’avoir cherché –
april is the cruellest month, breeding
cu cei șase-opt mii de ani ai mei,
sânt o pictură umedă – mă zvânt la soare
voi ieși din oglinzi ca să țip și să spun
cuvântul „tăcere” este mantra poeziei 

(am decupat din: Iulia Cibișescu - Ascunzișuri de măști, Maria Jorj - Esența uitării, Mihaela Handrea - Stau la masă cu îngerii mei, Jean-Luc Lagarce - Juste la fin du monde, T.S.Eliot - The waste land and other poems, Dora Pavel - Creier intermediar, Mircea Dinescu - Moartea citește ziarul, Vasile Macoviciuc - versuri pentru caii sălbatici, Jacques Jouet - Poeme de metrou)

View original post

Fusion cuisine: how to eat cartofii răntăliţi ai lui bunicu with Korean kimchi

how to

Diana dans la Cuisine

Alternatively called peasant’s spuds with paprika and onion, “cartofi răntăliţi” is a traditional Romanian dish made out of boiled, then sauteed potatoes with onion and spices (usually paprika, salt and pepper).

I grew up with this food and one of my grandfathers was the master of this dish, making it so delicious every time, one could not resist it. Although it was usually cooked on fasting days (as it’s vegan), I had soon fallen in love with it, making it every time I had the chance.

What a happy time. As a spoiled grandchild, I was always surrounded by delicious, hearty, wholesome food cooked by both my grandmothers, but also learned the magic of appreciating and respecting what nature gives us season after season – with my grandfathers, and dive into a world of rather raw, organic straight out of the garden produce. One would teach me basic vegan, rich flavours of cooking when…

View original post 190 more words

Traveller’s spiced wine

something to warm up

Diana dans la Cuisine

I’m blabbering about it here

Processed with VSCO with hb1 presetThe story of mulled winebegins a long time ago, in the early years of the Antiquity.  Back in the 1st century AD, the Roman and Byzantine cuisine had what foodcritiques of the time recorded into their writings, a few types of spiced wines beautifully prepared with different ingredients that would give the liquid a specific, very flavoured taste: they used honey, bay leaves, dates, saffron, pepper, star anise and mastic and at first, it used to be served cold. Of course, Roman and Greek cookbooks had slightly different versions, but the flavoured concoction travelled by the name of conditum viatorium (traveller’s spiced wine)and conditum paradoxum (surprise spiced wine). 

View original post

*chapter 6, where I remember

Why am I here – that’s a good question, well because
I remember that morning like it was yesterday you slept for two hours maybe then I came into your room I was looking for that hug again longing for it craving it knowing its all wrong but knowing its the only thing I need maybe you touched my left arm then you left for work and I knew I had to leave too
I remember that morning like it was yesterday because of the rain and the silence of its drops on the rooftops and the park was all green and fresh mixing up our breaths in the air going back to our homes with a strange question mark above our heads
will I ever see that room again

two weeks later I was back I remember that day asking myself wtf is love after all it’s like going back to school; the hibbie jibbies feeling; the under the covers when it’s dark and raining outside and there are homeless people out there for fuck’s sake and it’s like colouring a book outside the lines and from time to time thinking of how lucky you are but still the only thing that makes me feel like que ça colle it’s writing