Daniel Balanescu

08/03/2026

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cTSsW1EFXvg

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03/03/2026

Since you ask, most days I cannot remember.
I walk in my clothing, unmarked by that voyage.
Then the almost unnameable lust returns.
Even then I have nothing against life.
I know well the grass blades you mention,
the furniture you have placed under the sun.
But suicides have a special language.
Like carpenters they want to know which tools.
They never ask why build.
Twice I have so simply declared myself,
have possessed the enemy, eaten the enemy,
have taken on his craft, his magic.
In this way, heavy and thoughtful,
warmer than oil or water,
I have rested, drooling at the mouth-hole.
I did not think of my body at needle point.
Even the cornea and the leftover urine were gone.
Suicides have already betrayed the body.
Still-born, they don’t always die,
but dazzled, they can’t forget a drug so sweet
that even children would look on and smile.
To thrust all that life under your tongue!—
that, all by itself, becomes a passion.
Death’s a sad bone; bruised, you’d say,
and yet she waits for me, year after year,
to so delicately undo an old wound,
to empty my breath from its bad prison.
Balanced there, suicides sometimes meet,
raging at the fruit a pumped-up moon,
leaving the bread they mistook for a kiss,
leaving the page of the book carelessly open,
something unsaid, the phone off the hook
and the love whatever it was, an infection.
Wanting to Die/ By Anne Sexton

04/02/2026

11/11/2025

https://www.google.com/maps/@45.5843795,23.1865697,3a,75y,121.05h,71.3t/data=!3m8!1e1!3m6!1sAF1QipMwHGFwV3_BHtE44bMRS_36fU7RcsMypVPWMjOn!2e10!3e12!6shttps:%2F%2Flh3.googleusercontent.com%2Fp%2FAF1QipMwHGFwV3_BHtE44bMRS_36fU7RcsMypVPWMjOn%3Dw900-h600-k-no-pi18.69515970042177-ya260.00047905099905-ro0-fo100!7i7680!8i3840?entry=ttu&g_ep=EgoyMDI1MTEwNS4wIKXMDSoASAFQAw%3D%3D

Explore a place through a 360° photo.

05/11/2025

"The literal meaning of life is whatever you're doing that prevents you from killing yourself" Albert Camus

16/10/2025

Murim... ca mâine
E-asa de trist să cugeti ca-ntr-o zi,
poate chiar maine, pomii de pe-alee
acolo unde-i vezi or să mai stee
voiosi, în vreme ce vom putrezi.
Atâta soare, Doamne,-atâta soare
o să mai fie-n lume d**a noi;
cortegii de-anotimpuri si de ploi,
cu par din care siruie racoare...
Si iarba asta o să mai rasara,
iar luna tot asa o să se plece,
mirata, peste apa care trece-
noi singuri n-o să fim a doua oara.
Si-mi pare-asa ciudat ca se mai poate
gasi atata vreme pentru ura,
când viata e de-abia o picatura
intre minutu-acesta care bate
si celalalt - si-mi pare nenteles
si trist ca nu privim la cer mai des,
ca nu culegem flori si nu zambim,
noi, care-asa de repede murim.
Magda Isanos

26/06/2025

Primele cartele de metrou desenate cu mucul de țigara... . in curând se împlinesc 30 de ani de la demararea acestui proiect. Din păcate, nu l-am putut realiza așa cm mi-am dorit.
Scopul proiectului era de a arata un portret al societății de azi, folosindu-i drept eșantion pe cei care călătoresc cu metroul.
Ideea proiectului era aceea de a antrena oamenii într-un joc al cărui element de baza este cartela de metrou, pe care aceștia ar fi invitați sa-si lase amprenta desenând sau scriind ceva: cartela de metrou poate sa fie reflecția unui gând, a unei impresii sau un obiect util care sa poarte o lista de cumpărături sau o carte de vizita neconvenționala.
Astfel, stația de metrou ma gândeam ca nu va mai fi doar un spațiu de așteptare plictisitor ci unul in care oamenii își vor pune creativitatea si ingeniozitatea la încercare. Toți cei care vor participa la acest joc, vor depune cartelele desenate ori scrise in cutiile ce vor fi special amenajate pentru proiect. Lucrările pot fi semnate sau nu. Cartelele sa fie colectate timp de o luna .

06/06/2025

“The amount of happiness that you have depends on the amount of freedom you have in your heart.”
Thich Nhat Hanh