CHAMOMILE PICKING

Traditionally, in the early summer days, I began harvesting wild chamomile flowers from the hills and fields that were untouched by animals feeding on the grass or away from manmade path ways used as shortcuts by the field workers. The technique I invented to snap the flowers was by spreading my fingers and trap as many heads as I could, then tighten the grip and pull up. Aftter, I had to sundry each flower until the pistil becomes a dark mustard colour. I collected enough to through the month.

TRAILS IN THE SNOW

It’s hard to explain how hills covered in snow can be as deceiving as sand dunes in the desert. The path to the train station would be buried, and we would rely on the person in front—dark and unpredictable—never knowing what might lie beneath the thick layer of snow. There were some journeys when the snow would freeze solid, and I could walk on top, with occasional weaker spots that would catch you by surprise, leaving you suddenly chin-deep in snow. Every day was an adventure. Framed: 152 x 12

“ȚINTAR”

Board games weren’t really part of my childhood, apart from the occasional game of chess or cards. But that didn’t stop us from recreating the games we saw on TV—we improvised with whatever we had. One of our favourites was “Țintar,” a simple strategy game where the goal is to eliminate your opponent’s tokens. Since we didn’t actually own the game, we used a slab of wood from the extending dining table as the board, and dry beans in different colours instead of plastic game tokens. 150 X 120 CM

HOME; WE USED TO HAVE AN APPLE TREE

Nothing about the home I grew up in was perfect, comfortable, or safe. Its appearance was in constant flux, shifting with time and circumstance, making it impossible to clearly recall how it once looked in those early years. What remains vivid in my memory, however, is the apple tree that stood at the front of the house. It was beautiful in its resilience, even as caterpillars regularly stripped it bare, leaving it draped in silk threads—a haven for spiders. 152 X 120 CM

RAINBOW OF THORNES

My entire circle of friends—my whole entourage—came from the church community. In many ways, I feel blessed for that. It sheltered me from many of the typical mistakes of adolescence, guided by a strong sense of right and wrong and the ever-present fear of God. But the thorns came later—symbolic of the burden and pain I felt when I began to understand that I was not accepted by the church, or by the community, for being gay. 152 x 123 cm

THE VILLAGE BULL

When a cow gave birth to a male calf, you had two options: keep it for a short time and slaughter it for food, or raise it for breeding. At one point, we chose the latter—deciding to raise a bull until it reached mating age. During that time, my father built a metal frame in our front yard. It became a kind of station where cows from neighboring farms were brought for insemination, the price determined by the bull’s appearance and strength. Framed: 150 x 120 cm

DECAPITATION OF THE ROOSTERS

I grew accustomed to slaughtering the animals we ate for supper. Roosters were especially unfortunate—only two or three could be kept for mating, and the rest had to go. Over time, I developed a technique that allowed me to do it cleanly, without getting blood on myself. Word spread, and soon the elderly neighbours began asking me to handle their chickens too. I became surprisingly popular for something I never wanted to be known for—efficient, discreet, and oddly respected. 150X122CM

CATCHING BUTTERFLIES

I miss the silence—and even the boredom—of those summer days when the heat pinned the entire village into the shade. Afternoons were reserved for rest before people returned to the fields or tended their gardens. I wasn’t even aware I was bored at the time; nature had a way of offering quiet gifts. Butterflies appeared in all shapes and colours, and simply watching or trying to catch one became a kind of meditation. 150 X 123 CM

MOTHER’S PORTRAIT

Capturing my mother’s portrait—her grit, her emotional strength, and her quietly pessimistic view of life—is something I’m still learning how to do. She’s too powerful to fully contain in a single image. In this painting, she looks both young and old—because the love we hold for our mothers is so profound, their age becomes invisible. Framed: 150 x 120 cm

THE CRAZY HEN

We had this one hen—aggressive, slightly dim, and not exactly a favorite. She’d often disappear for weeks, only to reappear as if nothing had happened. We didn’t pay much attention to her. But after a couple of years, she started making her own hidden nests and would suddenly show up with ten, sometimes twenty chicks trailing behind her. She turned out to be one of the most prolific mothers we ever had—completely under the radar. Framed: 152 x 123 cm

WE WERE THE CATS

Passed down from the oldest to the youngest, this jumper became something of a family heirloom among the Barbu brothers. Worn in our early school years, it was loved, lived-in, and instantly recognisable. The cats on it — with their expressive, mischievous faces — reminded people of us. There were four of them, just like us. Their cartoonish charm and our brotherly energy gave the jumper a kind of fame. It wasn’t just clothing — it was a character, a shared memory, and a small legend of its own.

COOPER’S APPRENTICE

A quiet man, yet very skilled, my grandfather repaired wine barrels in late summer, getting them ready for the harvest. It’s a rare talent in these modern days, and although he was retired, the passion he had, the art behind the labour, and the constant demand for his work kept a spark in his eyes and a liveliness in his character. Watching him made me want to learn these skills and become his apprentice. Framed: 152 x 123 cm

YOU CAN’T CHANGE

I often hear the expression, “people change,” but the truth is—they don’t. A chameleon changes its skin to adapt to its surroundings, but that doesn’t alter its instincts or natural behaviour. The change in colour is not transformation—it’s survival. Adaptation isn’t change. It’s a mask. Framed: 152 x 123 cm

ENRAPTURED

I hope many of you have experienced that state of complete ecstasy—whether with a partner or alone—when your inner defenses dissolve, and you exist in a relaxed state of pure joy. Thoughts may drift through your mind, but they carry no weight. They don’t interrupt or diminish the overwhelming desire for satisfaction. In that moment, you are simply present—unguarded, alive, and free. Framed: 150 x 121 cm

THE MAN WITH MANY OPTIONS

Options appear when you step outside your comfort zone. When you’ve grown used to a lifestyle and routine that’s mind-numbingly tedious, stepping away from that state of mind can be both liberating and overwhelming. Suddenly, you’re faced with countless choices, driven by your own desires and the pressure to pursue them. It can feel chaotic, even paralyzing. But in the end, the only real option is to stay true—to yourself, and to those you love. Framed: 150 x 120 cm

PAPPA IOAN

He is proud of what he has achieved—rising from a small village where there was little hope for a future, to becoming a sailor. The uniform gave him dignity, a sense of purpose, and the rare gift of possibility. His gaze isn’t directed at the viewer—it looks beyond, toward a bright future he can now imagine. In his mind, nothing can stop him. Framed: 152 x 123 cm

LEAP OF FAITH

The simple game of “catch me” was, without us knowing, a lesson in trust. Each time I let myself fall backward, believing my brothers would catch me, it felt like more than just play—it was a pact. A silent promise that we’d always have each other’s backs. In that moment of surrender, I learned that trust can feel as essential as life itself. Framed: 150 x 121 cm

BURNING TIRES, A PAGAN EASTER TRADITION

Although I never took part—my parents wouldn’t allow it—this ritual burned brightly in my childhood. In the weeks before Good Friday, children aged 8 to 15 would collect old tires, stockpiling them for a massive bonfire. The flames, we were told, would chase away evil spirits. On the night itself, kids lined up to leap over the blaze, smoke curling around brand-new Easter clothes—freshly bought for the holiday. The fire was tradition, defiance, danger, and joy all at once. 152X124 CM

RAVING

I was introduced to clubbing in my early twenties—later than most, compared to the typical teenage experience. What surprised me most was the overwhelming sense of community and togetherness. It was a kind of belonging I thought I had lost when I became estranged from the church family. Discovering that same feeling in a completely different space brought both relief and quiet joy. Framed: 150 x 120 cm

SOMEONE IMPORTANT

This is not just a portrait—it’s a presence. Someone whose impact can’t be measured in titles or timelines, but in quiet influence and emotional weight. Their importance is not explained here. It’s felt. Framed: 150 x 120 cm

INNER PEACE

Framed: 153 x 122 cm

DHALIAS WEEPING

A fragile flower, delicate yet rich in colour, it was one of the most loved — and most profitable — in our garden. Every part of it held value, from the slender stems to the precious bulbs. But to me, they’ve always been sad flowers. In the harshness of winter, the bulbs would often freeze and rot, wiping out both the emotional care and financial hope we had invested. Beauty, sometimes, comes with heartbreak. Framed: 152 x 122 cm

THE SCENT OF LABOUR

The presence of blooming flowers is unmistakable throughout my collection. They’ve brought me immense joy and hold the memory of unforgettable bonding moments with my mother. I believe those early connections, surrounded by colour and care, helped shape my vibrant spirit—and my colourful charisma. Here is my mother and I, making flower bouquets for the market. Framed: 150 x 121 cm

FIRST KISS

It’s a memory that’s hazy—maybe even a dream. I’m not sure if I was kissing my own reflection in the mirror, or if it was the time I asked a classmate to teach me how to kiss, pretending I didn’t know how. Either way, it was a quiet, tender moment of discovery—half real, half imagined. Framed: 152 x 123 cm

DECAPITATION OF THE PIG A PAGAN CHRISTMAN TRADITION

WICKER FLOWER BASKET “PAPORNIȚÔ

THE GRANDMA I’VE NEVER MET

PUFARINE

AUTUMN EQUINOX

The power nature holds to inspire us throughout the seasons is extraordinary. As summer comes to an end, the fruit trees stand bare, the fields are harvested, and a soft melancholy settles in. It's as if nature itself curates our emotions, shifting its colours into deep, bruised, and fading tones—preparing us for the uncertainty of what winter may bring. Framed: each 152 x 123 cm

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MATING SEASON

Spring has a profound connection to nature. It brings life back to the land, reawakening the vegetation—and in turn, stirs a sense of renewal and desire within us. The abundance of flora returning all at once creates a kind of beautiful chaos, with plants battling for their share of sunlight. It’s messy, wild, and alive—just like the feeling of starting over. Framed collection of 4 : 296 cm x 242 cm

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