Lately, this question seems to be on everyone’s lips. The news brings an endless stream of anxiety, February feels cold and gray, and 2025 started off in a way that’s more unsettling than reassuring. In the midst of it all, there’s one thing that one can return to, in all moments—creating.
Creation is both an act of resilience and self-preservation. It’s a way of leaving a mark, proving to ourselves that we exist, telling our story. Sometimes, it’s enough to build a world in your mind, a world you’d rather live in, and that alone can transform your life.
2024 was an intense year for me. I dedicated myself fully to art and cultural projects—exhibitions, video works, events across Romania, augmented reality, 3D animations. It was a wild ride, one that taught me so much and reshaped the way I see creative work.
Out of the 8 projects I worked on, 5 of them financed, I leave you with a music video, and with a weather forecast (hint: it’s a dystopia). More of the rest, soon.
In 2025 I feel I have to return to something that took second place and actually, the best part of me: the version of myself with a brush in hand and a piece of paper, simply existing in the act of creation. There’s something miraculous about that: making images that never existed before, bringing them into the world through sheer will and vision. That’s where it all began—all my projects, all my ideas, my entire journey. And now, I’m trying to find my way back to it.
Whether this path leads to unspeakable truths, new perspectives, or even just a little comfort in uncertain times, I take it as my purpose.
This newsletter is meant to document this journey. Social media often feels alien to me, and fighting Instagram’s algorithm is a challenge I haven’t quite figured out. There’s so much I want to share that doesn’t fit into funny reels or perfectly curated carousel posts. I also want to carve out space here for my cultural recommendations—books, films, exhibitions—because I’m constantly exploring and love passing those discoveries along.
At the core of my thoughts are community, the lives of women, and the stories of wonderfully strange characters. I deeply believe that every human is creative, that we all have something unique to bring into the world. Art—creating it, sharing it—makes life richer, fuller, more meaningful.
I plan to send this newsletter once a month. In a world overflowing with content, that feels like just the right amount. For live online updates, I try to post as often as I can on my Instagram account.
Food for thought:
The Berrypickers by Amanda Peters- also translated into Romanian, but I did enjoy much the audiobook on Audible, with two outstanding voices. A four-year-old Mi’kmaq girl goes missing from the blueberry fields of Maine, sparking a tragic mystery that haunts the survivors, unravels a community, and remains unsolved for nearly fifty years.
Moon Palace by Paul Auster, also in Romanian. Marco Stanley Fogg is an orphan, a child of the sixties, a quester tirelessly seeking the key to his past, the answers to the ultimate riddle of his fate. As Marco sets out on a journey from the canyons of Manhattan to the deserts of Utah, he encounters a gallery of characters and a series of events as rich and surprising as any in modern fiction.
Revista ARTA has just launched a new issue last week. In the print, as well as the online version, articles are also translated into English.
Some exhibitions in Paris, if you happen to visit the city this Spring:
Suzanne Valadon exhibition at Centre Pompidou, until 26 May 2025.
L’Intime at MAD, on until 30th of March 20205.
Du Coeur a la main, Dolce&Gabbana at Grand Palais, until 31st of March 2025.
Please do hit reply if you have suggestions, inquiries about my work or just want to catch up. Wherever you are, however you found these words—I’m grateful you’re here with me.
Warm hugs,
Ioana
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