But tomorrow, dawn will come the way I picture her,
barefoot and dishevelled, standing outside my window
in one of the fragile cotton dresses of the poor.
She will look in at me with her thin arms extended,
offering a handful of birdsong and a small cup of light.
~ William Collins

Initially I was planning to go for a more gloomy feeling to this photo, but as I came across these verses, I've changed my mind. Seeing things in a brighter light always helps, even though sometimes it might overexpose the scene.

The shot was taken at Bonţida Banffy castle; for a change, this time we ventured inside the castle, even though the building didn't seem very safe: fallen ceilings, cracked walls, sudden holes in the floor; nevertheless, an excellent site for photographs with a gothic feel.

As we were wandering around, we came to a room where it was possible to see pieces of the old wall paper; hundreds of years ago, it was probably considered an avant-garde and very stylish way of decorating walls. Maybe I'm being a bit too melancholic here, but the sight did revive some feelings. The classic questions came to my mind, who stepped on this floor, who looked at that wall before? Where are they now?

A few years ago, after reading Victor Hugo's Notre Dame de Paris, I started to ask myself the question - does our existence and our everyday life, make the objects around us become alive?