5 at a time.

Little things that will ensure that my heart stays here forever
(from top to bottom):

1. The fact that some things are old and people are okay with it.
2. Picking my own plums, filling my skirt pockets with them.
3. Roses, everywhere. And you can pick them without being fined.
4. Breakfasts. Watermelon and cheese and peppers and salami.
5. The motion of things (or lack thereof).


This is for Mami.

This is what I look like this morning. I don't wear makeup when I go to Deborah House, because the girls need to know that it's not important. And because I'm running out. I got a haircut! Two days ago. I haven't brushed my hair yet. But I got dressed, as you can see. Aren't you so very proud? I haven't forgotten everything you taught me.

Mi-e tare dor de tine.


Pe drum.

Yesterday on the road back from Oradea I was overwhelmed. At the movement of everything, and what it means to take the time to watch. I was determined to be productive, and sat with my eyes fixed on my book for most of the ride until finally I looked up. For the next 117 km I was transfixed by the way the dark grey clouds hovered over the miles of sunflower fields and the way this made the yellows look wild. The way the little old ladies nodded off to sleep, waking up only to adjust their unraveling headscarves. Every town had its essentials: tall, silver steeples of the Orthodox church, Gypsies selling watermelon from their carts, decaying architecture, grapevines growing over the courtyards and bright turquoise gates. The homes along the road are bright shades of yellow, peach, green, and an occasional blue. Windows showcase collections of Orthodox icons and the flowerboxes are full of red-and-white geraniums. I looked back down at my book, only to jump up at the sound of a train going by to our left. The curtains were flailing about the windows "C.F.R." written in faded white paint on the side of the old train cars. I like the way the cobalt blue looks against the rest of the scenery, and the way everything in that moment was synchronized. The colors, the light, the sounds, the tempo all conspired to make that incredible moment. Sometimes, when I picture myself as a tiny dot moving along a map...I don't know...
I feel at home.


And tonight, Ashley, Lavi & I bought a watermelon and called our friends to meet us in the park with a knife and a plastic bag (for the remains). They like to make it dramatic and say "We're going to slaughter this watermelon!", so we go along with it. We ate it with our hands and faces and let the juice drip down our arms. I could get used to this.


Cat Power.

I listen to her music at night as I'm winding down. Sipping tea in my pajamas and wrapping up my latest writings, her voice has become a ritualistic accompaniment. I turn up the volume:

I Found A Reason
The Moon
Who Knows Where the Time Goes
The Greatest

We're still getting to know each other.


What's your favorite flavor

of scented toilet paper?

As you can see, we're almost done with peach.

Is this completely inappropriate? I'm sorry, it's just too incredibly weird not to point out. I wonder what sort of genius dreamt this concept.

#1 in the "Romania's Quizzical Quirks" series.

Stay tuned.


This is where I spend every (other) night.

I am coming back in the winter to re-create this photograph. Actually, I am just going to stay here forever. There are moments in the day when I have time to stop and think, and I sit and realize how incredible it feels to have such a big part of me filled. This is where I want to be.



Rainy days like these, we sit inside drinking espresso from tiny cups and read. We discuss the things of life, and look back down at our books. We eat toast smothered with the purest honey you've ever seen, and sometimes gaze out the window.


Yesterday, we started out on our way to the city square. We were stopped by a darling old man who waved us down and started slowly crossing the street. He proceeded to fill our bags with apples he just picked, and wished us a day full of the Lord's blessings.

One of the many things reminding me of how much I love this place. My heart has ached for it the past 10 months, and I'm finally here. Right away I feel at home.