Trafika Europe 8 - Romanian Holiday

Solenoid

crystal candy bowls on one or three legged round tables and china cabinets with sailing ships. Sometimes there are narrow corridors between the rooms with windows crowded by pale crawling flowers. I always go up and down a few steps from one room to another and I am always surprised, once I open a door, either by an enormous hall with strange allegories on the ceiling or, on the contrary, by a closet which can barely fit a couple of brooms and rags. As soon as I come back from school, usually around six in the evening, I start my search through the house. The light is rose-red and clear like a jelly filling the whole space. Sometimes it feels I don’t move and the entire house rotates around

me: the windows come towards me, the corridors incorporate me slowly, the doors openwhen they arrive in front of me… Perspectives change continuously and I go forward while actually motionless, always amazed by the changing landscapes. I eventually get to my bedroom, which always remains thesameamong the changing rooms: the only banal, dusty placewhere the texture of the faded sheets, the worn-out varnish of the wardrobe, the wobbly table, the nightstand where I keep my treasures have become transparent and eventually vanished from the field of my conscience, like you can no longer see the soft, upside down chalice of the jellyfish in the water of the ocean. Everything in my

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