Bucharest. It’s the city where I was born and which I somehow ignored up until a while ago. I very well may have missed many stories in my carelessness during this time. Perhaps because I know I have Bucharest „at hand”, as it’s the city where I spend most of my time.

A sort of duel has started in which Bucharest would reveal things and I was supposed to receive and turn its offerings into an image. Little by little, I have learned this dance and it has all slowly turned into a friendly relationship.

And, as in any relationship, I have learned to be patient, to accept that it takes time to get to really know somebody. On foot, I am almost always listening to music, and each time Bucharest unfolds before me rhythmically and resonantly. As a consequence, like a spectator, the child in me wants to discover, to be amazed, to see what hides around the next corner.

I have accepted Bucharest with its transformations just as it has tolerated my ignorance and whims. We were starting to be a team. I got hung up on an overcast day, but the city showed me that you don’t necessarily need the best light to take a photo of it and that, basically, challenges are good and they bring about progress. I searched for stories in other cities, believing you must go far in order to capture spectacular images, and Bucharest debunked it all by offering me memorable scenes in front of my building, on my way to work or in the nearby park.

I keep taking photos in Bucharest. Because the city is changing, it’s reinventing itself. Because it gives me a sense of well-being and I often feel like a tourist in my own city. I am grateful to it for having understood me, for having allowed my presence in its company and for sometimes reminding me how to be a child.

With an open heart and a camera around my neck, I walk on.

Through Bucharest.