My photographic beginnings have an extremely interesting story. During my childhood, I always dreamed of making all kinds of films. As I grew up, this dream became more and more significant. At the same time, my father was a passionate amateur photographer, with very advanced equipment for that time. His Praktica camera was, for me, a German Panzer—indestructible and mysterious.

In the darkroom, the heart of the setup was the enlarger, the device used to project negatives onto photo paper. My father’s ingenious version was made from a house drainpipe, a magnifying glass, and a small Zeiss lens—a truly fascinating combination.

Since filming was extremely laborious and expensive, my father, seeing my affinity for images, encouraged me in the field he knew best: photography. At some point, he gave me the German Panzer and the “keys” to the bathroom, which had become a darkroom with the equipment I mentioned. It was a fantastic period, in which—without realizing it—my father created a private, highly personalized school of photography just for me, through which he planted the seeds for everything that would follow.

One of my first “lessons” was the Chestnut Rally in Baia Mare. I took photos of cars, spectators, and a few portraits of drivers and team managers. I was bursting with energy, joy, and passion—and I discovered something extraordinary: the motion I had dreamed of capturing in film could also be reproduced in still photography. From that moment, one guideline became central to my work: to always try to include motion in the image.

Why did I tell this whole story?

Because now, after so many years, I have managed to bring together all the conditions to launch a personal line of calendars. This story explains why the subject of my first calendar is not accidental. It is called “Portraits of Motion” and is a collection of 12 images, made using different techniques, each presenting something in motion.

Classical critics, however, often view the idea and images with puzzlement. They see me as a serious man… yet wonder why I present a series of pictures that, to them, seem unrelated. To me, however, they are profoundly and perfectly connected—and now you understand why.

The title of my first calendar, “Portraits of Motion,” often generates similar surprise. A portrait is typically a quasi-static image, while motion seems abstract. And yet, capturing motion in a still image is not only possible—it is exciting. This calendar reflects the very philosophy that has guided my work from the beginning.

This is the story of my first line of calendars, which officially begins its journey in 2026. Another article will follow, explaining the significance of future calendars and why each one will have two editions: one “automated” and one entirely handmade by me in my workshop.

PS: Perhaps you are wondering—if I was so passionate about images, why didn’t I attend a visual arts school? The answer is key. Perhaps, in a few years, with your help, I will be able to explain this paradox clearly. To stay close to the development of the ways I will present this explanation, it might not be a bad idea to subscribe to the newsletter starting in January 2026.