My practice moves across poetry, experimental electronic music, field recording and photography, tracing relationships between memory, ecology, technology and the transformation of landscape. The Apuseni Mountains and the village of Sub Piatră form the geographical and imaginative centre of my work: a space where living matter, technology and fiction overlap, contaminate one another and give rise to hybrid forms of perception.
I am drawn to the sounds of forests and springs, birdsong, the presence of animals and the way light passes through the canopy. By contrast, I am unsettled by the rhythm of the Great City and by the way existence is increasingly reduced to image, consumption and digital representation. We live more and more through screens and surfaces, within a system that turns stories, memory and experience into data, archives and algorithmic flows. In this process, our connection to the environment, to others and to our own bodies becomes increasingly fragile.
For me, this rupture is above all ecological. We have gradually moved away from natural rhythms and built environments dominated by concrete grey, glass, artificial light and digital surfaces. I do not see nature as a romantic refuge, but as a living system of which we are part and on which we continue to depend. As direct contact with the earth is lost, a deeper form of uprooting also emerges.
Over time, my relationship with Sub Piatră has become deeply personal. I think of this place as an inner centre, a point of gravity around which memory, the imagination and an important part of what I create are organised.
Long before I was born, my father arrived there by chance and kept the memory of the place alive. I sometimes wonder whether something from that first encounter remained latent within him — in memory, gestures, dreams or the way he looked at the world — and whether part of that emotion was passed on to me through a kind of atavistic, transgenerational frequency. Perhaps certain landscapes continue to work within us long after we have left them. Perhaps, in ways that are difficult to explain, they are transmitted from one generation to the next.
Sub Piatră is a space of expanded consciousness, a place where body, memory and landscape share the same breath. I want to live there precisely because of this capacity for regeneration: because it is a living territory, a surface that cleans itself.
