you might notice this newsletter looks a little different… well, i feel different. ever since my tumblr days, my online presence has always had to match whatever reinvention i was going through. i’d delete everything and start fresh. i guess i’m too old for that now, but the intention is the same.

i find myself back here after over a year of being a full-time mum. Gaia is almost 20 months (that’s a year and a half for the non-parents, haha). do you know how much a toddler can do (or learn to do) at this stage? it’s pretty mindblowing. we’re almost having real conversations now. i say “almost” because i don’t always understand what she’s trying to say, and that can get her really frustrated.

a year ago, things were totally different. Gaia was a lot less fussy when we were outdoors, so i walked a lot. my poor feet were in a rough state. we’re lucky to have so many parks nearby, but the nearest green space is the general cemetery. it’s not your typical cemetery. the Sheffield General Cemetery opened in 1836, and the last burial was in 1978. it’s now a beautiful, preserved space with Victorian monuments and a chapel. it’s a lively place: people walk their dogs, play with their kids, and teenagers smoke on the grass. there are even regular events and gigs when the weather’s nice.

i walked past the cemetery every day, sometimes more than once. i’d often think about the strange contrast of raising a new life while surrounded by death. it never felt sinister to me, though. in fact, it felt oddly comforting—like a reminder of the ongoing cycle of life, from the first humans to us right now. life goes on.

there were times when i would feel exhausted and scared by the novelty of motherhood, but i kept going (what else can you do?). and when Gaia fell asleep, i’d sit on a bench and pray that no one made a loud noise and woke her up (of course, it happened. multiple times. it’s totally fine! i was just a raging, sleep-deprived mum!)

little by little, i started taking photos again. i didn’t have the time or energy to sit down and work on them until now. i’m not used to working at such a slow pace. usually, whenever i had new photos, i would want to share them immediately, or run the risk of not liking them anymore. but like i said earlier, things are different now. it’s actually nice to look at these photos a year later and realize that, despite the blur of those first few months of parenting, i’m glad i captured moments like a random tree at the cemetery.

here’s a song about living near cemeteries.

i miss it here whenever i’m not here. but i’ll be here again, soon. see you then!

thank you for reading <3

Subscribe now

Birth

My due date was a mere suggestion. Gaia did not want to leave the comfort of my belly. But with each purple sunset, I kept thinking, she's coming, she's coming. “Is she waiting for it to snow?” was my thought when I felt more uncomfortable. It had been a snowless winter so far. 

One day I received a call at six in the morning. I was sleeping but I instantly thought oh shit it's happening. A bed was freed for my induction if I wanted to come in. I said, ok, we'll be there in about an hour, thank you. I took a shower, in disbelief for the entirety of it, and prepared my last things for the hospital bag. Then I checked the weather app. Holy shit.

Before getting pregnant I had this vague idea of what giving birth was like. We've all seen the movies. Yes, they're not completely realistic, but how different can it be? Oh, very much so. I felt completely overwhelmed by the reality of it while I was on a bed, practically naked in my hospital gown, and ten doctors were introducing themselves to me, while a midwife was trying to find a “good” vein (I don’t have those, apparently!).

Once I was put on oxytocin, my body knew what to do. The pain of the contractions wasn't too strong, but at some point, I thought I didn't want to know how bad they could get. I could hear the horrific screams next door. I accepted the epidural, and in just a few hours I was told I was ready to push—another moment of disbelief. But yet again, my body knew what to do. 

Gaia Isabella was born at 22:42 on 8th February 2024 (08/02/2024). On the only day it snowed that winter. 

First few days

Seeing her for the first time was unbelievable. I was just crying, and crying. She latched onto my breast for the next three hours. It was incredible. She was so small, so soft, so fragile... I couldn't believe my eyes. 

And then came the ugly part. I thought I would want to go into detail about it, but not anymore. The truth is no one cares as long as the baby is healthy and I'm not dead. The bar is low! Anyway, I was hospitalised for a few days. I was in a lot of pain, but thankfully it wasn't too serious and I'm perfectly healthy now.

Home. First few weeks.

Going home with our baby was a very sweet moment. Our place looked the same but I saw it in a different light. The couch that I never used to sit on was now the central point of the house. The coffee table was getting more and more crowded with things I needed in my reach while breastfeeding.

She brought a pink ribbon, which publicly announces a baby’s arrival in Italy. We hung it on our bedroom door. I took this photo after a short nap. Each time I woke up, I spent the first few minutes in a state of confusion. I wasn’t sure if I was at home or in the hospital. Where is my baby?

As you can see, this orchid had four buds. The first one opened on the day Gaia was born. The second one, on her second week of life. The third... You see where this is going. I’m not kidding.

Breastfeeding sessions (all day all night)

I knew I wouldn’t be sleeping a lot. I didn’t know I would have to actively keep myself awake while holding a newborn. I scrolled on my phone until I reached the weird side of Reddit (you know when that happens?). But that wasn’t enough. Reading is not stimulating. So I watched YouTube with captions. I don’t remember what videos exactly…

On the bright side, I got to see the sunrise every day.

Sweat and milk

On the long list of postpartum phenomena, there’s postpartum sweating. I distinctly remember our smell when Gaia and I were skin-to-skin: sweat and milk.

Two months

Gaia was inquisitive almost from the very beginning. As time went on, I could understand her clues more. I learned how to soothe each cry, how to rock her to sleep, and what songs she liked best. There was sunshine to be found on each gray day.

I look forward to sharing more of our journey with you as Gaia continues to grow and as I navigate this beautiful, chaotic adventure of motherhood. Thank you for being a part of our story and for your support along the way.

These days I am outdoors all the time, but you can find me on Instagram. I share more snaps in Stories.

I hope you're all having a beautiful summer filled with your own precious moments and memories.

Thank you for being here ❤️

Here’s a long overdue update on Winter Flowers. Last year, just when I had lost all hope for a white winter, it snowed in March. The daffodils had finished blooming, trees were budding - it was a glorious time. And there was no better place to admire its beauty than at the botanical garden, which is within walking distance from where I live.

If photographs can be a mood tracker of sorts (they are to me), this season of Winter Flowers reflects a happier, brighter vibe compared to past years. At least that’s my interpretation, knowing what I know, remembering how I felt. Usually, these walks helped me through depressive slumps, but this time I was already feeling good. Making these photos was joyful and childlike. 

As Winter Flowers grows, I not only start noticing patterns in composition and repeating colour schemes but also get to learn more about the plants in my area. I couldn’t have predicted this back when I started in 2021. I love watching the beauty of such a long-term, almost cataloguing type of project unfold through time.

We haven’t had any real snow this year, but even if it did snow I’m not sure I’ll be able to go out and take pictures. Maybe the only winter flower this year is going to be my daughter (forgive the cheesiness). 

A few links:

• The science of snowflakes.

  

• A video on snow squalls from photographer Noah Kalina who has a no-skip YouTube channel now.

Thank you for sticking around despite my inactivity this past year. I feel ready and energised to start a new chapter! I hope to bring a more introspective and motherly perspective both in life and my photography.

My daughter will be here any day now and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little bit nervous. Keep us in your thoughts. 

Love and snowflakes,

Alina

Website  ·  Instagram ·  Twitter  ·  Threads  ·  Support me

Drafts never got completed and a lot of life happened. We moved to a new place in winter, which was great for my Winter Flowers project. I’ll show you the photos soon. In spring, I ended my therapy journey after 3 years. As soon as it was over I had no more desire to continue spilling my past in the Dear Padua series. I think I’ve successfully reconnected all versions of alina.

In May, I got my annual dose of Italian sunshine. But what I’m trying to get to is that by the end of that month, I found out I was pregnant! What a moment that was. I am now 31 weeks pregnant - the reality of it has fully sunk in - but in that moment everything felt surreal. I couldn’t believe that it was happening to me. For weeks I continuously felt I was in a “no one knows I’m pregnant” meme.

The first trimester has been physically tough on me but enough time has passed, so I now find it easy to underestimate how shitty it was. The usual nasty stuff. The brain is an interesting thing. It shifted my priorities, sent me all kinds of scary baby dreams, and made me less sharp. You can notice that by the length of my sentences, which is why I’ll keep this short!

I just wanted to let you know that today I’m turning 31, I’m 31 weeks pregnant and we’re having a girl.

See you again soon, hope you’ve all been well ❤️

Alina

Between moving to a new place, hating the internet, and trying to understand the relationship between my identity vs photography, I accidentally took a hiatus from the newsletter. I don’t know why I need to justify myself to you - no one cares!

To ease myself back into this bouquet, I thought I might continue writing about my path in photography, and less about myself (roll eye). At least, I’ll try.

The year was 2013 and my parents had recently bought me a Canon 550D. It was also the last year of high school and I should’ve probably been more worried about the final exams. But at that point, dear reader, I didn’t give a shit.

In a weird turn of events, I got a job as an assistant photographer at a concert venue. To my mind, I was already such a pro (lol), but managing to take one good photo proved to be extremely challenging. I didn’t get my settings in time, didn’t have the right gear, didn’t have the guts to maybe throw some elbows.

On the plus side: free concerts and tons of experience. A few friends. A musician boyfriend too many.

I took photos for the whole duration of the show, which was probably unnecessary. I would also find myself being more interested in what was happening in the audience.

Concert photography is tough. It’s not a genre I excelled at. I believe it takes a different personality and greater attention to technique. As a photographer, I’m all about intuition.

My short-lived career as a concert photographer ended in the summer of 2014, and I believe that by the end I was an overall better photographer. For that, I am grateful.

Do you have a favourite concert photographer? I’ve been enjoying Zachary Gray’s photos for Paramore. By the way, if Paramore is reading this, I’m ready to dedicate the rest of my days to concert photography if I can take your photo.

See you next time!

As always, thank you for being here.

Website  ·  Foundation  ·  Twitter  ·  Instagram  ·  Support me

But anyway.

I want to say goodbye to the worst decade while also celebrating what has been one of the best years of my life. For me, there’s nothing better at finding meaning and connection than photography, so for the next two days I’m releasing a free, open edition NFT of a photograph of the common daisy, also known as “Pomponette”.

Mint here:

https://app.manifold.xyz/c/daisy

Thank you for being here ❤️

Website  ·  Foundation  ·  Twitter  ·  Instagram  ·  Support me

When I first started blogging I wanted to have my pain seen whilst making silly jokes. I didn’t know this at the time. For better or worse, every few years/months I would delete everything, leaving no trace of my old blog. Well, almost no trace.

Lately, I have been feeling good. Happy. Comfortable in my skin. Soon I will be turning 30 and I’m doubting many of the notions that got stuck to my identity along the way. Questions like, am I really quiet? Am I really shy? Or did things just happen to me? I’m returning to the playful nature I had as a kid, finding myself dancing, singing and having stupid fun. I tried writing at length about it, but I don’t imagine it being interesting to anyone other than me. Besides, Hayley Williams said it better in Watch Me While I Bloom. There’s nothing else to add to it.

Short news from my web3 life (stay with me!): I made a new contract through Manifold for my individual photographs and this is the ASCII art

If you want to know more about NFTs, here’s an excellent resource I wish I had read one year ago.

Have a swell November. Try headbanging sometimes (use your whole upper body). Twerking is great, too.

Website  ·  Foundation  ·  Twitter  ·  Instagram  ·  Support me

I talked extensively about my past in therapy in the months that came. There was no more hunger to do it here. Plus, to think that I skipped through six years of school in six newsletters really doesn’t do me any justice. What brought me back here is photography. More specifically, this quote:

If you recall, these were almost the exact words I used to describe my first relationship with my camera. Reading this quote while browsing through Alec Soth’s TikTok validated my own experience and made me think there’s value to what I have to say. What’s more, I now talk about photography in therapy. Name something more cringe-worthy.

It’s 2013. My last year in high school and my first DSLR camera. I dreamt about one for a long time. In middle school, I used to play the piano without having a piano at home. I practised on a drawn-on piece of cardboard. Naturally, I couldn’t see why I couldn’t learn the exposure triangle before I even had a real camera.

Despite my “knowledge”, when I received a Canon 550D on Christmas, I took out-of-focus photos for a long time. Here are some of the firsts I was proud of.

in my room

These days I get caught up thinking about what I could’ve accomplished by now if I had received some support and/or if some adult showed interest in my photography earlier on. I know it’s not useful, so I only allow myself short episodes of sadness that I can channel into fuel for the present. I have a lot of compassion and appreciation for my younger self who found a passion this strong despite going through a tough time. Today, I want to honour that spark and celebrate it.

See you next time with my attempt at concert photography.

P.S I recently watched Euphoria (I know I’m late) and I just want to say that I’m Lexi. You’ll know why. I don’t want to elaborate!!!

Website  ·  Foundation  ·  Twitter  ·  Instagram  ·  Support me

This time I had an itinerary and a tight schedule. I wanted the full tourist experience! All in all, I walked about 40 km in my Vans which totally destroyed my feet. I think I might have plantar fasciitis.

There’s room to talk more next time. I’m just happy that my new camera and I are starting to get along, so today I’ll be sharing more photos than usual.

I started with Hyde Park. The grass was dried-out, in a brown and yellow colour. I still loved the atmosphere and found myself smiling the whole way.

I happened to be around Buckingham Palace during the changing of the guard. It’s not an experience I would recommend. It’s way too crowded, you can’t see a thing and you might get robbed.

Woke up at 6 AM since one can’t simply waste time in London. The city was still foggy which added to its personality.

London is wonderful. No matter how many articles I read that point out the many downsides of living there, my heart still dreams of it. Pollution will kill us all either way.

See you next time. And if you’re in London, eat a bagel from Beigel Bake Brick Lane Bakery for me.

I hope your summer is going well. Mine is nothing special. I didn't go on holiday or get sunburnt. I've been leading my simple boring life - just how I like it. I have nothing to show for the internal changes, which I feel are many. Tectonic plates are shifting, sometimes bringing up lava and stuff. Well, there's something. I dyed my hair after years of thinking about it. I am a shade of ginger that is already fading. It's not much, but it's not blonde. I don't want to be blonde for a while. 

A few days ago marked my two-year anniversary of living in the UK. I don't know why it's taking me so long to feel at home here. It’s… not sticking. I'm like a plant propagation that went wrong. More metaphors! My photographs are equally confusing. They don't know what they want to be. I let them be. I have faith it's just something I have to go through. The spark will come back. Right? :~)

A few months ago I transitioned from online video calls to in-person therapy sessions. It was my therapist’s idea. I was hesitant and said no a few times, until she caught me on a day I was brave. It felt like starting therapy all over again. I now enjoy the whole process, in part because the office is five minutes away from the botanical garden. After our chat, I take a walk and make pictures.

We should catch up on some things:

• I did an interview about Dear Padua on Lensculture. Thankful for Wesley who posed the most thoughtful questions. He also writes an excellent newsletter about photography.

• I now know the answer to the question "what's your favourite movie?". It’s Everything Everywhere All at Once. It moved something in me.

• Emma Chamberlain is, like, my best friend. I don’t know what took me so long to watch her videos.

• I’ve been listening to music from the ‘80s unironically. What a Strange Thing.

• currently watching, and loving, and feeling like crying to Pachinko on Apple TV+.

And my links across the internet, like horcruxes, are:

• Twitter. Where I am shy and self-conscious. Occasionally, after I drink kumquat tea, I am also funny. I mostly post photos.

• Foundation. Where I still do the NFT thing you people hate.

• Desire Path. Where I put together a newsletter with plenty of Jpgs.

• Instagram, but it’s kind of ded.

Bouquet doesn’t have a schedule anymore but I'll continue being in your inbox if you want me to be. Missed you!

ok bye

Some of you found this newsletter through The Sample and chose to subscribe. Thank you! A lot of this won’t make sense to you. In summary, I’m an ex Tumblr girl who also takes photos. Born in Moldova, moved to Italy when I was 14. That fucked me up. Now I’m 29 and in the UK. I started therapy last year, which is why I’m a running faucet. But I feel that maybe that (the saying too much) is about to end.

My youngest cousin is getting married this summer in Chișinău, and I’m not going. Scared that war is about to start. It probably won’t, but I’m not taking chances. How selfish and privileged of me. I hope Moldova stays a forgotten country that you never see on the news.

In 2012, I was looking forward to seeing my friends, some of whom I had recently met online on a Moldovan social network. My social life and confidence were crumbling in Padua, but in Chișinău, it was the opposite. I had many friends. They loved me, they missed me and they wanted to hear my stories.

To this day, in my dreams, I’m often walking down the streets in Chișinău. I can’t understand why. I wish I could visit, stay there for about a month or two and take photos of every single place I remember. Perhaps my unconscious will be satisfied then.

After 2012, I didn’t visit Moldova for another four years. A long time for my alter ego. The city looks better now, less cluttered. At least that’s what I can gather from Google Maps. Maybe I can go next year.

Subscribe now

Website  ·  Foundation  ·  Twitter  ·  Instagram  ·  Support me

“Photo project idea. next time I’m in Padua, take a photo of the view of La Specola from each bridge.”

That’s exactly what I did during my short stay there. If only I had more time to work on it, like, say, 14 years, but it’s fine. I’m a late bloomer.

La Specola is a 14th-century tower, formerly part of a medieval castle that was later converted into an astronomical observatory. Now it’s a museum that I first visited on a school trip. A teacher told us Galileo Galilei made some of his astronomical discoveries from up there. I held this belief, and shared it with everyone, up until I researched the fact for this newsletter. Galileo never visited the observatory, as it wasn’t implemented until 1767, some 150 years after he left Padua for Florence. Another shattered myth.

Bridges are one of my favourite things about Padua. Well, that and the river. Let’s start from the farthest one from the tower - Ponte San Benedetto.

Beautiful! On the left, you can see Chiosco Tadi, a cosy place for a spritz. On the right, there’s a catholic school that didn’t want me. Here’s the view on the opposite side of the bridge:

The next bridge is Ponte dei Tadi.

Getting closer to La Specola, but look at the greenery! To my right, there’s a shop called “Fortuna” (Luck) written upside down. I never knew what they sell, but now I have to research it. They’re architects. Remember, I lived in Padua for 14 years.

Further down to my left there’s a “hospital” for plants and flowers. You bring your dying plant and the owner tries to bring it back to life, for free. I took a photo of the place in 2016. One day I saw it printed and attached to the window. It was quite something. Unfortunately, I just learned the owner passed away in January.

Next up is Ponte San Giovanni delle Navi.

To the right, there’s Casa della Dogana, a Romanesque building I got to stay in just before leaving Padua two years ago. Here’s an amazing view from the bedroom window.

And now, Ponte Sant’Agostino. The river makes a lot of noise here.

A short walk alongside Riviera Paleocapa and we get to the final destination. La Specola in all its glory, seen from Ponte Paleocapa.

For years, I would be walking by this bridge and see an artist that was always painting the same view — you guessed it, La Specola. He once asked me what perfume I was wearing.

Another quick Google search led me to this interview. His name is Nelu Pascu, he moved to Padua in 1996 and is originally from Romania.

“I didn’t choose this place, it was the place that chose me. When I was younger, I roamed through all of Padua, from Stanga to Bassanello. I painted all the bridges, painted all the churches. With time, little by little, you stop by one place.”

Wow. This sounds so much like my experience. How did this simple photo project idea turn so emotional? I have to buy one of Nelu’s paintings. Well, maybe not right now.

Daimon:

My series “Daimon” is currently exhibited in Monolith Gallery, a virtual gallery space. Visit the other exhibition halls and read more about Monolith.

“What if the Earth was a gallery space, and art dropped down from the sky?”

A bunch of links:

• Everything is Emo, a playlist created by Hayley Williams. She tells a short personal story for each song. While I was listening to the playlist it hit me: I’m an emo photographer.

• JPEG2000 is my new favourite podcast covering web3, art, and internet culture.

• Museum of Endangered Sounds.

I say this mostly as a reminder to myself, but please be curious about the place you live in before you have to leave it.

Taking photos in Padua, which I know like the back of my hand, was a stark contrast to the way I feel in Sheffield. Still a stranger. There's more walking to do.

Subscribe now

Website  ·  Foundation  ·  Twitter  ·  Instagram  ·  Support me

“So Alina doesn't do anything spectacular.

She does not hang out with famous people, she does not visit memorable places or if she visits them she never photographs them iconographically. She always has an oblique gaze that seeks the surreal in every image.”

It left me flattered but perplexed. I thought I was only documenting my sad boring life. “Alina doesn’t do anything spectacular” stuck with me through all these years. I can see now that Martino was right.

I first heard the word “daimon” from my husband. He used it to talk about my photography, and again, I was perplexed. But he was right too! Why is it that other people can better put into words what is it that I do?

Daimon is an ancient Greek word referring to supernatural beings or guiding spirits. It can also be a personification of abstract concepts and forces of nature. The way he first explained it to me was to imagine an open window and the sound of the wind. That sound is a daimon. Things coming alive. For me, it’s another word for the extraordinary of the mundane (cliché-but-true). Plus, if you repeat “daimon” and “mundane” long enough, they start sounding the same.

Daimon is my second collection on Foundation. I chose images with a powerful light and equally powerful darkness—a necessary balance in all things (wait what? is that a Star Wars quote?)—and to bring out the aliveness of the subjects.

More than anything, I wanted to release something that fully represented my visual language. I wanted these photos to say “hi everyone. this is me. i don’t do anything spectacular, but the things i see are extraordinary.”

I believe it worked.

The fact that it happened in the NFT space is probably a coincidence. But maybe not. There’s something to be said about investing time and money — it forced me to believe in myself a little bit more.

By this time next week, I’ll be in Italy. I’ll be back by the end of April. I don’t know if I’m going to send Dear Padua #5 while in Padua. Lots of thinking to do and sun to absorb. I predict it’s going to be emotional. Gah!

A bunch of links:

• Desire Path, the community of artists and photographers navigating web3, now has a newsletter (that I’m contributing to ☀️).

• 10 Breakthrough technologies - 2022. The world seems like a terrible place these days, and it is. But all these cool things are simultaneously happening.

• Of Course We’re Living in a Simulation. A fun thought experiment.

  The Oculus Virtual Reality headset is even more fun. Add me, I’m alinatrifan.

• Stop Taking Your Fears to Social Media.

Subscribe now

See you soon,

Alina

Website  ·  Foundation  ·  Twitter  ·  Instagram  ·  Support me

I’m watching Severance. Without giving too much away, it’s the story of some office workers whose memories have been surgically divided (severed) between their work and personal lives. I think it ultimately speaks about the inhumanness of modern jobs, but that’s a topic for a different day. I’ve already mentioned this, but I often feel like I’ve lived two lives—there’s a version of me that stayed in Moldova (Alina 1) and another me (Alina 2) that moved to Italy. A bit of a stretch, brains are elastic.

What happens when Alina 2 goes back to Moldova? I will take this metaphor further and call this a process of reintegration. Read ahead or stop and watch the show.

In 2012, three years after having moved to Italy, my family went on a road trip to Moldova. The journey took about 2-3 days. By the end of it, I believe my parents lost some pounds due to stress. I was already skin and bones. Ever since then I can’t understand people’s passion for road trips. Don’t let an anxious kid experience the streets of rural Romania.

We made it to Chișinău in the middle of the night. It was raining. Our apartment was just like we had left it, but it seemed smaller now. Exhaustion made room for the excitement of reacquainting yourself with a place you love. We had some tea and went to bed.

I can’t speak for my brother’s experience of moving to Italy, he was only four. His cultural background is fully Italian. Nonetheless, he loved celebrating his birthday with our family in Moldova.

My grandparents’ place is in Firladeni. This was the last time I saw my grandma before dementia took her away. I wish I had known that.

I just got an alert that this newsletter is getting too long. I will continue this chapter next time. It will be about my friends, the city, and the version of me that had left Moldova and then came back.

Let’s hope it’ll still be sunny and I’ll feel like it.

Subscribe now

Website  ·  Foundation  ·  Twitter  ·  Instagram  ·  Support me

Bouquet

Bouquet #3 - Mărțișor

I was born in an ex-USSR country, so spring has already begun for me. Spring starts on the 1st of March, summer on the 1st June, and so on. It just works. Unlike communism. Can I convince you further? Well, Moldovans and Romanians (same thing, mind you) celebrate the arrival of spring by wearing a…

Read more

5 years ago · 3 likes · Alina Trifan

I let myself be consumed by the news the first couple of days of the war in Ukraine. I was thinking of Moldova a lot, which was selfish, but human. I snapped out of it because I had to go gardening. Touch the earth and be under the sky.

I’m now working as a volunteer with Bloom Sheffield, a community flower garden for women. I love flowers but never really got my hands dirty. Now I get to do that and take photos as well. 🤌

I’m excited to see what the garden will look like in a few months. For now, it’s a lot of clearing weeds, potting plants and making raised beds.

I caught myself following the same pattern of hiding behind the camera instead of socializing. I found it funny and endearing but I should really keep that for Dear Padua only ☺️

A bunch of links:

• The death of sex. It’s not what you think, it’s better. I love everything Haley writes.

• Becoming news-resilient. “(…) Assuming you're not reading this in an active war zone, it doesn't follow that you need to mentally inhabit those stories, all day long. It doesn't make you a better person – and it doesn't make life any easier for Ukrainian refugees – to spend hour upon hour marinating in precisely those narratives over which you can exert the least influence.
  In short: I think it really is OK to shift your centre of psychological gravity back from the news cycle to the world around you.”

• The Age of Houseplants. Indoor plants as aspirational culture.

• Good Things.

Subscribe now

Off to eat at a lousy buffet place and watch The Batman,

Alina

Website  ·  Foundation  ·  Twitter  ·  Instagram  ·  Support me

Here are some unorganized snippets:

I’ve been living unbalanced. My brain is always on doing one thing only. I dislike monocultures.

Missing the feeling of being familiar with a place. Move freely. Intuitively know where to turn. I still never know which side of the road to take the bus here and I always have Google Maps on.

I’ve been reading this book. Terrifying climate fiction that takes place 5 years from now. The future is grim. Anyway. I’ve been highlighting quotes that have nothing to do with the plot. Short sentences that created vivid images in my mind.

“Sun over the hills like a bomb.”

“The sun goes down, the sky goes twilight blue. Then indigo.”

How do I write like this? Wait. I can take photos.

Today I wanted to look at photos. I looked at so many of them in fast sequence, it made me feel things.

I remember that summer because by the end of it the school called my mum to announce I had failed my year of school — “bocciata” is what they say. I don’t even know how to translate this. Basically, you stay behind a year, taking all the same classes but with different classmates and teachers. So now I was two years older than everyone — they put me back a year when I had arrived in Italy.

Thinking back, I find this incredibly cruel. I hate they did this to me. No teenager should go through the pain and shame of this. My old teachers didn’t acknowledge the decision in any way, nor did they arrange a meeting with my old classmates to say “hey, Alina won’t be with us anymore.” Nothing. Like I had not lost everything once already.

My sadness grew into bitterness and depression. But I did finally make some friends.

The book I’m reading is The Ministry for the Future. The anger I’m feeling is new. The shame will hopefully pass. Next time, for a change of tone, I will speak about a time I felt wanted.

Bouquet’s first year was experimental. Thank you for sticking with me.

Website  ·  Foundation  ·  Twitter  ·  Instagram  ·  Support me

In my previous life in Moldova, I was a model student and a bit of a teacher’s pet. The most annoying thing was that it came easy to me, so I never learned to put in the effort. My whole identity revolved around being perceived as intelligent. I got robbed of it pretty much instantaneously when I arrived in Italy.

Without any real knowledge of the scholastic system, I ended up in one of the toughest schools in the city. I was also one of the very few immigrants there. On my first day of school, the maths teacher kept asking me “come mai?” — how come I chose this school? I stared at her, both not really understanding the language, and wondering what kind of question that was. It’s a school, lady. I need to be in one.

It took me a while, but I eventually understood. She was worried for me.

On weekends, I took Italian classes in a different school. The teacher was a lovely old lady that drove a red car that we (other immigrant students) called “coccinella” (ladybug). She liked me because I picked up quickly on things. There were probably other reasons — like the fact that I was a sweet kid? — but I only cared about being perceived as smart, even for just two days a week.

I learned Italian in a month or two, but it took me longer to actually talk. I was becoming proficient in another language. My camera quickly adapted to my needs at the time. It was a means of expression, an anchor for my identity and most importantly, a shield.

I didn’t want to be seen, and the camera prevented me from interacting with people. It almost acted as a substitute for my social skills. While roaming the streets of my foreign new city, I felt my presence was validated because I had this tiny camera in my hands. Without one, I feared I would be questioned, again, how come I was there.

I took a lot of street photography and photos of my classmates in the beginning. I don’t talk to most of them, so I don’t think I should share those photos, at least not where they’re recognizable. Is this fair? I don’t want to be a bad art friend.

When I would be invited to hang out, I always felt that was done out of pity (I could be wrong, just saying how it felt). I still looked forward to those situations because I could bring my camera.

Mostly, I was a loner that chose to be lonely before I could be rejected. I wanted to be chosen, but that never was the case. So it was me and the camera. I thought that was my power. I don't need you, I don't like you, I’m just here to take your photo. All shielded up.

I managed to make some friends later on. Some I’m still friends with today, some I lost along the way. My identity is still tied to photography, but I’m learning to let that go. I feel dumb most days while knowing I’m not and wishing I didn’t care.

There’s a new point-and-shoot camera in my life, the Fujifilm x100V, and I’ll adapt it to my new needs once again. In a total 180 degrees turn, I will use it to show my feelings, share my story and connect with others.

Come to think of it, it’s what I’m doing with these old photos as well. Isn’t that fascinating?

Website  ·  Foundation  ·  Twitter  ·  Instagram  ·  Support me

One of my resolutions this year is to be more open and connect with others through photography. This is going to be January’s theme. Today I’m going to apply it to the present. In a couple of weeks, I will get to the root of the problem in Dear Padua #2. By the way, thank you for the feedback. It wasn’t easy to send that newsletter, and I still cringe whenever I remember that people read it. But I know it’s going to be worth it in the long run.

My dislike and refusal of promoting my work ultimately boils down to the fact that I would rather not be seen than see myself fail. Ugh, that’s bad. I’ve been wondering what would happen if I were to change my mindset. The fact remains that promotion sounds like fighting for a piece of attention. Given that attention is a finite resource, we inevitably have to steal someone else’s spotlight to shine it on us. That… I have a bit of trouble with. Ideally, I’d want all of us to have a place in the garden.

(Notice how much of the language we use to speak about success is related to war? Fighting, stealing, dominating, more recently “bidding war”. While I’m certain there’s a place for this in the world, I’m afraid we’re not appreciative enough of the preservers among us — the gardeners, if you will.)

It’s pretty clear I’m being heavily influenced by my current reading, How To Do Nothing by Jenny Odell. Among other things, it revealed to me a way of defining promotion that I don’t hate. Jenny puts it in terms of sharing one’s story. Not doing so would cause a disservice to potential kindred spirits who could benefit from our observations, or just make them feel less lonely.

Anyway, that’s what I took away from it.

We had our first snowfall on the 27th November 2021. An unexpected but welcome surprise, as I was really looking forward to continuing my project Winter Flowers. For so many winters, I went in full hibernation mode and barely took any photos. I’m proud of myself for having found a way around this and tricking my brain into feeling motivated. The hunter-gatherer in me is psyched.

It was a cold and windy Saturday. I went for a walk and took photos until I couldn’t feel my fingers anymore. So, not for too long. The biggest challenge was to focus and compose these photos.

The second day, we got even more heavy snowfall. So much so, that I was worried to go out. Okay, I was lazy. I still took photos of the hawthorn and sweet mock-orange bushes in our backyard. The worm-eating blackbirds were back too.

And on the third day, I was in a big depressive mood. It was the day before my birthday, which I suspect had a lot to do with it.

I didn’t say a word about my depression to anyone for 10 years. In fact, I only openly mentioned it last month. I still somehow feel guilty for bringing it up when giving context to my work. But please take it as just that, context. I’m mostly a fun person to be around.

After much insistence on William’s part, I went out with my camera, convinced I wouldn’t be able to take any meaningful photo. Friends, I was wrong. It was the most productive walk and a big boost to my mood. Winter Flowers saved me again.

When I was finally ready to go home the sun came out, so I stuck around a little bit longer. I noticed a couple of regal-looking wild teasels and I made my favourite photo of the day.

These are my first photos ever to be minted without being published on social media first. I’ve been growing my collection on Foundation. Circling back to my resolution of the year, putting my work on the blockchain is a big push in that direction. It makes me both believe in what I do and connect with others that may enjoy my photography. There are arguably cheaper to achieve this, I know. But it’s what works for me at the moment, and it makes me happy.

Listen to this song.

But I am in a garden
Tending to my own
So what do I care
And what do you care if I grow?

Starting a newsletter was one of the best decisions I took last year. It will always be my favourite (and free) place to be.

Thank you for reading,

Alina

Website  ·  Foundation  ·  Twitter  ·  Instagram  ·  Support me

Winter Flowers

Winter Flowers is an ongoing project about finding comfort in flowers during the cold months. I wrote about it in my first newsletter!

I’m really excited when we get snow now because it gives me purpose. It’s my mission to go out and search for hidden iced flowers until I can’t feel my fingers anymore. It makes me happy.

Winter hasn’t even officially begun yet (which makes no sense) and I already took plenty of photos, more than last year. They are my best ones, don’t let me tell me otherwise.

The big news is that I decided to release Winter Flowers as a collection on Foundation! I uploaded the first four photographs and will update it as we go.

We can talk about NFTs and what it means for me some other time. For now let me just say that I’m taking a chance on my art. In the same vein of not hiding from the world and all that.

You’ll still be the first to see the new photos from this year.

A bunch of cute people

• Luiza Holub is an artist from Sheffield. She loves flowers and colours as much as I do. My friends will receive holiday greeting cards that I got from Luiza’s Etsy shop.

• Another great artist from Sheffield, photographer India Hobson. Get one of her prints or cards.

• Theresa and her husband Ryan from Pistol and Peach make the most beautiful colourful jewellery (also from Sheffield).

• Minding Design by Anja Jamrozik Otto

  Monthly newsletter about research on cognitive & behavioural science applied to the design of spaces, products, and experiences.

• Swiss Miss by Tina Roth Eisenberg

  My dealer of cool looking design products. Plenty of gift guides if you need them. Tina is a kind, spiritual person. I watched The Shift by Dr. Wayne (on Youtube) because of her. I don’t want to say too much about the film. Consider this a sign if you need one.

• Notes on Walking & Photography by Bryan Formhals

  Reading about Bryan’s methodical approach to walking, while totally different from mine, is inspiring. His photographs are great too.

• Maybe Baby by Haley Nahman

  A newsletter about hard-to-describe feelings. What a great tagline. Start with In defense of burdens or Always watching. Haley is probably my favourite writer.

• I’m a fan of everything Noah Kalina does. But I also don’t want to be too cheesy (Noah reads this) so I will only state this fact. If you’re in the US, you can get his newsletter postcard set.

• During my Instagram break, I missed Sara Hagale’s drawings the most. I love them so much. Don’t you just want to steal her genius? I don’t have any tattoos, but if I did, it would be one of her drawings.

  

Signing off,

Alina

I was in a depression for most of my teenage years and young adulthood. I wouldn't say I am depressed-depressed now, which is funny because I only started therapy last year. I have other stuff going on. To understand it, I have to talk through past stories with my therapist.

My memory often fails me, and the fact that I speak four languages doesn’t make me more eloquent. One day I realized I had all my years of depression in photos. It began at the same time I picked up a camera, which was also when I moved to Padua in Italy. Talk about stars aligning.

I told my therapist that while looking through my old photos I was able to recall how I felt at the time. She encouraged me to keep going and sit with my emotions. Now I’m writing a newsletter about it, essentially making you sit through my homework.

The title Dear Padua is not new to me. I called my photos of Padua this way. But Dear Padua is also my story of growing up in a new country and becoming a different person. I often think of myself as having lived two lives.

I promise not to dwell too much on the sad bits and focus on my photography, which was very, very, very bad until it slowly got better. I believe the cool kids call this a genesis piece.

The year was 2007. My family and I left Moldova on its Independence Day. I was excited to see the clouds from the airplane window. I was excited about seeing Italy, too. In my mind, it was this exotic place where nothing could go wrong.

I always knew I would be moving to Italy eventually. Not that I had a say in it, I just knew. My dad had been trying to get us there with him for years. He left to work in Italy when I was around six.

Now I was about to turn fifteen in a different country where I had no friends and didn’t speak the language. I could swear I received my first camera that year. My archive says otherwise. So I either deleted my photos from 2007 - 2008 (a real possibility), or I got my camera in 2009 and my life is a lie.

Either way, it was a grey point-and-shoot Canon IXUS 80IS that fit inside the palm of my hand. I think my parents got it for me so I would be taking photos of our family trips, but it ended up being my best friend. I carried it with me everywhere. You don’t need to speak to take a photo. It made me feel both powerful and invisible.

Things started out fine. My family went through a honeymoon phase, visiting places and just getting drunk on Italy’s beauty and food. We were also learning how to be an actual family for the first time ever! As for me, I still had some time before real-life kicked in with the ringing of a school bell.

You got the gist. Honeymoons end. I don’t know what’s coming next time, but it will be true.

Leaving you with this quote from The Office, that I just finished re-watching a few days ago:

It'd be great if people saw this documentary and learned from my mistakes. Not that I'm a tragic person. I'm really happy now. But... it would just... just make my heart soar if someone out there saw this and she said to herself "be strong, trust yourself, love yourself. Conquer your fears. Just go after what you want and act fast, because life just isn't that long."

[…]

There's a lot of beauty in ordinary things. Isn't that kind of the point?

Out of all fictional characters, I relate with Pam the most.

Love you Pam. Pamalama-ding-dong.

Subscribe now

Website  ·  Instagram  ·  Twitter  ·  Support me