Quay Saint Martin

I once visited with a lover the beautiful Isle of Rhé, off the west coast of France near La Rochelle. I can still remember the delicious mushroom-spinach stuffed shells they served in a local restaurant on quay Saint Martin and the low-key comfort of our bed and breakfast. All rooms were taken and Martine told …

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Mythologies

  I watch old westerns all night. “What the hell do you like about them?” asks my lover. “The grave and threatening intensity in the actor’s eyes. I would like to be able to imitate it.” “Let’s try.” We stare at each other with our chins a little bit raised and contracted lips. After some …

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Gifts

I met my friend in a vegan-friendly cafe in town. We hadn’t seen each other this year, so we were tenderly happy – we studied together history, and visited each other in Berlin and Vienna. She’s a lecturer now at our university, and I’m still figuring out what my life is all about, and I suppose we …

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The mess I made

Let me tell you a little bit more about myself. My name is Alina. As for now I write and take pictures. I sometimes paint. I was born and raised in Romania and educated in Sweden and Germany (I will not count the failed Ph.D. in New Zealand as education, but rather as pathetic attempt …

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No rose as proof

I mistakenly entered a fashion boutique on rue de la Harpe. Those people inside looked at me strangely and, without saying a word, helped me put on a heavy dress of filigree metalwork, made with tiny beads and twisted threads, gave me a fresh rose to carry back, and showed me out on the streets …

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Transparent flesh

I was morally feeble back then, so one day I asked my lover: Tell me, how should I live my life? And he answered: Just look at what I’m doing, and do the same. So I absorbed his gestures, his deeds, and his words, and imitated them, and wrote them down, and told about them …

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Strawberries

Today I like: Strawberries Crunchy cherry tomatoes The smell of laundry when walking in the street (but I hate people driving alone and listening to very loud music) A glass of champagne with frozen berries for breakfast Oversized, elegant African masks The silence in my studio Thinking about what technical objects I would buy if …

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The carnival is over

The carnival is over, a photo from the 21st of March, with Caroline and Michael In the metro, an old crippled man told me “It’s nice to have someone smiling at you” and gave me his personal card, a cheap piece of shiny carton with a lake landscape, a name, a phone number, and a …

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Saint Sebastian

Painters, sculptors, novelists, they need to imitate the reality of the persons and objects that populate their world. But as a photographer I don’t need to, because the machine does it for me. When I invent a situation, I am free from the constraints of showing the corporeality of my models, and I can concentrate …

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Like in a foreign land

Sometimes I forget that I am a photographer. Sometimes I create a story so vivid (or I re-create someone’s image, which is a kind of theft but I call it love), that I feel both grateful to the models allowing me to use them as living sculpture, and exuberated by my own boldness. Sometimes I …

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