December 2017 M T W T F S S « Sep 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31
It’s 7:00 AM and I creep myself into the cemetery. The fog surrounds me. Silence. I stop and watch the ruins flanked by the crosses of the graves. Suddenly a cry, a long one, cuts the fog and runs through the cracks and holes of the former church. The crows are flying in all directions and then they are taking back the ruined church. A woman cries in front of a grave.
I enter the church and start taking pictures. Inside it’s eerie. The altar is long gone, the windows as well. Just the door is still in its place and few saints on the walls. But even those inspire uneasiness. With their faded faces, they look like demons of a forgotten world, where everything is dead. Dead like the lying corpse of what once used to be a crow.
I’m in the church of Barbu Bellu, a member of one of the most important noble families from Wallachia. The church was built 1818, but soon, in 1857, it was abandoned. It seems that there is a project of renovating the church located in the village of Gostinari, but for the moment nothing was done. This means that at least some photographers will still enjoy it.