34

June 9, 2016

This past Tuesday was my birthday. It’s only when the night comes that words flow through me so naturally and come out so eloquently and beautifully here. I am here, not knowing if I should write this post or not, but when the sun sets and everything fades away, only my words remain.

So, this past Tuesday was my birthday. I am 34. 34 years old. A lifetime has passed since high-school, a lifetime has passed since I had my first job, a lifetime has passed since I grabbed my first camera, shed tears on previous relationships, London, parties all night, friends new and old.

I don’t feel any different. I only know that I like to have my perfect one hour Saturday and Sunday coffee, meet with friends, go on trips, enjoy my bike rides to and from work, eat lots of sweets, relax under the sun. I have no time for rude people, unwanted advice and lazy quotes on Facebook. Immersing myself in something I do everyday just for me (my therapy), my hobby, my passion makes me forget everything around me. I feel safe with my camera, I feel strong with my camera. I’ve always felt strong with my camera by my side, even though certain situations along the way made me feel less of myself.

I recently found a quote from myself, from 2010, on my Tumblr:

“How do you photograph so well?” is a frequent question I get asked everywhere I post my photos. And to this day I really don’t know how to answer it really. Some ask if I am a model, some photographers want me to pose for them, even though they don’t live anywhere near me. I just do it for fun, I don’t make money out of it and I enjoy it, to be honest. It is therapy to a sad/bad day. If people enjoy what I do, why not? 10 years ago I didn’t look like this. I was insecure, naive and very shy. Probably that is why in my photos I like to think I am 10 different kinds of people, and none match the real me. None is quite like the other // June 2010

p.s. I have noticed I’ve developed quite a mean resting bitch face over these 34 years, please don’t take it personally, it’s not you, it’s not even me. I’m rarely mean or pissed. It’s in my genes.

I’ll leave you now with an impromptu photo session between pink roses. Had to 🙂

Wearing: Peasant Blouse (Ie Romaneasca) // Original Romanian Peasant Blouse, Wool Hat and Earrings // H&M. Lips // Rimmel – Asia.