Writer Between Worlds

Soulful writing about humans and places

Category: Photography and Photojournalism

  • On Fortress street

    Today, Liternet has published another one of my short poems in Romanian, called On Fortress St. The inspiration for this poem was my trip to the 2022 International Theater Festival in Sibiu (Transylvania); it took a week for my elutriated impressions of this particular evening to settle into words, and here they are. You can…

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  • Starting today, in new garb

    Dear friends, I’ve been toying with the idea of unifying my online presence – my creative writing and my professional communication blogs – under a common site in my name for a while now. And while it still isn’t 100% possible, I’m getting there. “Langsam aber sicher”, as they say in Germany. The old theme…

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  • The Heron

    You know you live in a wholesome place when you bump into a grey heron at the employment agency on a sunny December afternoon in Upper Bavaria… and a handful of people stop their errands simply to watch and congregate. All of this on December 1st, the National Day of Romania. It was very calm,…

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  • Discoveries on Via Transilvanica

    Here comes the final act of my adventures through the ancestral hamlets of Cernei Mountains (S-W Romania) this summer, summarized in a travel article slated to appear on liternet.ro on October 11: https://atelier.liternet.ro/articol/28115/Andreea-Sepi/Catunele-din-Muntii-Cernei-sau-cum-am-ajuns-sa-batem-Via-Transilvanica-fara-sa-stim.html Only available in Romanian for the time being. But, hopefully, the pictures will speak for themselves. 🙂 Enjoy!

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  • Best of Romania 2021

    “It is said that some Bolsheviks, deeming that a love based on choice and exclusivity was only a prejudice infiltrated by the bourgeois spirit, tried to abolish it, treating love as an instinct, an instinct like all the others, falsely adorned hitherto with a passionate halo. (…)The big mistake was that they thought love resides…

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  • Wind in the tall grasses

    Today I will write about the wind in the tall grasses. Lost, immaterial, like our souls, Just a passage from one place to another. Just air. Just breath. Soft stalks undulating. It’s ballet. Beautiful submission. Soothing choreography under a ruthless sun. People pass by on their bicycles Barely noticing. Barely noticing the road leads nowhere.…

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  • Child’s play

    A boy drags an empty bag through the sand. He’s tied it at the end of a rope.The wind blows into it, swelling it, ruffling it,making it float and thennearly ripping it out of his hand. The bag is as transparent and light as this boy’s soul.Boy, breath, wind blowing, soul… Later, when it’s full…

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  • Suspended

    You and I on this small bridge where one can watch the passage of time in liquid form, the voices it drowns, the secrets it buries, the things that will never again be.

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  • Reawakening

    Hear them shriek: virgin vitality, gratuitous vigor. Gull-ibility?…

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  • Leave your shadows behind

    that hour. on the long path to spring, when darkness clears and the trees drop their skeletal shadows in the snow like a bad memory, like baggage one no longer needs to carry. when the frost glistens with a gazillion different suns in a myriad different eyes and the crows’ croaking falls silent silent… that…

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  • September reading

    here I am, sitting on a bench next to autumn absorbing the last of the scorching sun and watching the ants move like clockwork in a playground we call our own. here they are, mapping the maze with staccato precision. I am reading a poem, like every other year. later, I’ll get up to go…

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  • Spirituality, modernity and Brownian motion

    Just a thought… So many of us feel depleted, drained, stressed out. Our beings flogged from within, our lives – our biggest gift – turned into empty chases. Pursuing a zillion things that we can grab and touch and display, but which aren’t real. We live in societies that prioritize task efficiency, competition, action, and the accumulation of stuff over…

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