Culture Therapy. Terapia prin Cultura. Editie bilingva RomanaEngleza - Calin Pintea

When you change the normal keyboard of inner states Dear readers you have in front of your eyes a book about love. The love that strikes you when you least expect it the love that engulfs and thrills a person not used with living as a couple a woman who considers men poor beings with a brain lost somewhere down their pants wandering Bedouins in the lands of the god Eros . The love that erupts in the most dull and indifferent states converting a world at peace used to the uselessness of time in an unexpected and unreal fulfillment an escape that takes us out of the strict reality and throws us straight into mystery. The main character Maria Bart lives a plain life without sudden changes or great expectations used to wake up at noon dress in style not opening up her soul to anyone an anti-romantic by definition no weeping tears and no rose-petals shells pebbles or twinkling stars sprinkled on the usual roads of life without self-deceiving in front of the type of well-tanned muscular male. Maria Bart is an artist one of those who do not seek immediate glory nor the hurried and superficial ovations of the press and the public but is patient with her talent one who can find her place within culture elites without coarse insistence like the grass piercing through the asphalt puny and majestic I despise the beaten paths recipes the canons of the ordinary crowd. I do not adjust to the world. I have my own. She is a photographer with remarkable results in college and Master graduate with doctoral studies at the University of the Arts in London. Maria Bart focuses on black and white photographs especially those who capture the rain benevolent rain the rain that cleanses and rinses paradoxically a chiaroscuro you are tempted to look and assimilate. This woman who had not met someone who is able to change the usual key board of inner states will fall in love a love that looks like this I hung up the phone with my heart like a fountain of clear water no as a meadow filled with flowers. I had found myself in a new look which had less and less of my old withered content. I was smiling with my eyes with my body with every gesture made without premeditation like a child who rejoices that his de sired dream has come true. I was living in a state that made me to hug trees butterflies and the evening wind. I was alive at last.