Spaces

As a child I was always, unconsciously, looking for spaces. Spaces to conquer and make mine. It's not that my brother and I grew up in a small house, but, on the tailend of the Communist era in our country, it was hard to come by heating petrol, so we did grow up in crowded quarters, my parents and us having to share one room, especially in winter, because heating two big, high-ceilinged rooms in an old house wasn't economically smart or even practically feasible. After all the State imposed tenants in our house left I had many empty spaces to explore, choose or discard, evaluate, try out, 

leave behind and come back to. These besides those I set up down the street at my grandmother's house, where my late grandfather's workshop became my kingdom, and only I had the key to its lock, just prior to moving on to my grandmother's no-longer-used summer kitchen that became my Sheriff's Office [Casa Serifului] once I chose to become the Sheriff and let my brother and our neighbour and friend D. be the Indians - easy choice as my office was outfitted with a green, dainty, antique couch where I could rest until the 'restless natives' decided to do something unlawful and I had to go catch them and imprison them. I find that even now I have the tendency to stake out spaces, sweep the cobwebs, dust the dust, reclaim, rearrange and rededicate them, and be in them for a while, be a part of the history of their walls.