Confronting the end of childhood as I know it, followed by the beginning of my so-called “adulthoodâ€, has been much easier with my 5-year-old cousin, Felix, around. He is growing up in a small village in Romania, which many generations from my family have called home throughout their lives. Felix is developing himself in a traditional spirit, playing in the sand instead of using a tablet, being happy just by swimming in a small supermarket pool, riding the bike and gazing at the Milky Way, undisrupted by car lights and drunk lamps. At 19-years-old I discovered that there is a way back from gradually becoming an adult and losing our raw, unaltered spirit. I decided to join Felix in his games, where I would be the photographer, the story-teller, and he would act like various characters – a blonde little girl, a dog between dogs, a self-proclaimed cowboy – free from any kind of constraints. I therefore entered a new world, recalling my own childhood in an electronic-poor environment that offered me time to breathe and search for my true identity. The courtyard and its surroundings are now my playground again, the place where everything is possible once the sun rises and swallows up the fear of growing old with its nourishing light.
