Writer In Florence Ela Vasilescu



Why do I write?


Sometimes I feel dead inside. A feeling of nothingness lurks me from around the corner, grabs my senses and throws me into a void. I write the feeling away. The keyboard becomes my best friend and every word pulls me back into this crowded world. Many people ask me when do I write? Why do I write? Do I have a schedule? Do I have a plan? I never know how to answer that question. I...

Day 292 – My world


Someone asked me yesterday what does my world look like? My world never stands still. My world is a wonderful place filled with both joy and sorrow that keeps me going, that keeps me alert. Boredom has no place into my world, I hunt it down and kill it. Looking back, facing the path backwards, a smile judges my face and I know: I know my path is not just a one way street. Over the years I was...

Day 283 -Who’s going to Mars?


Ever since I came here, I kept calling this place Mars. Maybe because it was a new place, or maybe because I felt like an alien here: new rules, new culture, new everything. Now I hear people are actually going to go to Mars in 2024. That scares me a little. To be honest, after reading many articles about this I don’t get it. So, they are planning to colonize the planet and are selecting...

Day 208 – The myth of the starving artist


We all know it, we all think about it, but most of us are afraid to talk about it out loud. Are we or aren’t we starving artists? Is it just a myth or a reality? Is it that only starving artists are true artists? I don’t know if this is true all around the world, but in Florence,there are many types of artists. There are the ones who tell you they are starving, but honestly you can...

Day 191 – What is happiness?


This clicheic question has been bugging me ever since I am aware of my own existence. Time and happiness have always been my best friends and my worst enemies and the irony of it is that both of them are impossible to define. In the last couple of years my life has changed completely and unfortunately it took as many good turns as it did bad ones. I used to think that a happy person is always...

Day 165 – Searching for…


Did I tell you that sometimes I feel like crawling into a hole and not come out of there for a long time? Did I tell you that when I feel like doing that, writing these daily thoughts are the hardest thing I have to do? I am so tired! I am tired of feeling needy, tired of asking and not receiving, tired of feeling like I don’t belong or that I am not doing enough. Sometimes, I think that...

Day 143 – Question


Sunshine in the dessert. Your hands are full of blisters, your throat empty of fluids.
What would you rather have? The bottle of water right in front of you, just waiting for your hand to reach it, or would you rather walk another ten miles barefoot to dive into a crystal clear lake surrounded by beautiful waterfalls?
I’m curious, which one do you see as the hard road?

Day 137 – About fathers and their roles


Yesterday while in the bus, I heard a conversation between two women that touched my nerves a little. They were talking about a friend of theirs who recently became a mother and they were wondering if her husband, the newly father, was suited for that role and if he finally settled down and was going to be a good father to the child. This is not the first time I’ve heard this question...

Day 111 – What makes an artist an artist?


What is it that you are allowed to do as an artist when your words and opinion mean something to the world out there? What is the artist’s meaning to others who are listening, admiring and following him? Should he be a teacher or impose a certain conduit on his followers, or should he be excused to be himself, just because his way is why others look up to him? Who or what makes an artist...

Day 69 – Absolute solitude


The solitude in your head… that is your most precious friend and your worst enemy. You can have all your loved ones around you, family, friends, maybe children and the fortunate ones also have “the one”, but you are alone in your head and you will always be alone in there. There is no one who can tell for sure what highways or no ways are paved inside that thick skull and there are things that...

Writer In Florence Ela Vasilescu