Costi & Georgiana

3 September 2016Brașov, Romania

I captured a word: genuine.Hidden in wild flowers, I waited for them: her, a fairy crowned in natural beauty, warm and present, like a fall wind, the kind that calls you home. It called him too, a barefoot traveller returned to his mother earth, with much missing, but lots of loving.They could shout their story, but instead they whisper it, with trust and tenderness, in a world created for them by the time they spent holding each other and all the laughter they shared.He carries her, dancing, and she floats, a mesmerizing butterfly, and their kisses show themselves and look like the blessing given to a thirsty man too long gone in the desert, like the smell of baked bread.They’re children and also titans, because love does that, it makes the sum of two people enough to tell all the stories of all ancient forests in this world.They returned with flowers on their hair, in their hands and inside their souls, and I followed, curios and pulled, like to a tinny shine of a spring, like the faint aroma of gingerbread.You hear laughter, but behind it there’s the song of wild birds, and the noise, crowded around them, all the fuss, sweeps over them like the fog veil of a morning in a secret world.The together movements, in dance, of the audience, the wishes, sweet and welcomed, are given to them as gifts, and if the weight of the metal crown on her head is too much, it’s because her fingers only know the delicacy of the flower petals and his love.He carries her, often and possessive, as if there could be a scenario between them where she could leave, would want to leave, as if she could ever look and him and not say to herself: What fate, what luck? I decide my destiny and he is it.And when the feast is over, they are still laughing, friends and family tearing up, and they retire to natural landscapes, green and genuine and endless, like their love.Where I thought there couldn’t be new ways for the light to show them to me, or fresh smiles to capture, he whispers something, careful and playful, and light explodes along with her smiles.I watched them like you would do a wild flowers field, not too close for it to lose the feeling, but impossible to get away from.And their genuine self, learnt maybe from time, from flowers, wind or true love, welcomed me and all those other souls, like friends, witnesses to them and their happiness.I thought I was capturing a word. Instead, they told a story.The story of those images by Catalina in Cuvinte (catalinaincuvinte.wordp…)