I began decorating mirrors, being in love with stained glass.

I was no longer a beginner in the technique when, out of a need I did not understand at the time, I first combined mass-colored glass with a piece of mirror. The result impressed me in a pleasant but not necessarily explainable way. I was not ready, I did not realize that those pieces of glass, through the way they manipulated light while surrounding my reflection, were trying to communicate and encourage me to continue.

I discovered later, about five years after the first mirror, the book "The Mirrors" written by Petru Creția, published in 1993 by Humanitas. That is how I found the explanation for my feelings in front of the mirror, the superb literary expressions of the emotional complex it causes me, toward which I also try to direct the viewer.

"A flat mirror, a given mirror, is defined by the quality of the reflected image, but no less by position, size, contour and framing, brightness, and non-specular context." (p.13)

I started this adventure, feeling my way fearfully at every step, all the more since the path did not exist. Even today I am not sure if it is more than a humble path trying to make its way among the mountains of established artistic modes of expression. It is a path built like braiding a loved one's hair into a three-strand tail. I hope I will not be considered flighty when I say I still haven't decided on the beloved: the mirror or the stained glass. I can, however, tell you about the strands. One is the permanent technical challenge of making complex cuts, choosing the right colored glass for the subject, and fine joints in coherent lines, all together playing the role of attracting or distracting your attention, viewer. The second strand is that of self-knowledge, of determining the emotions that make me vibrate, which I want to challenge you to reflect upon, being convinced that whoever sees my works has been tested by them at least once, with each person's different reactions ensuring their dynamics and uniqueness. The third is that of study, of knowing the diversity of ways of expression that come to life through this art. From a certain point, this strand became the one that determined the direction of the path. Passing through technical, artistic, and philosophical studies, I managed to decipher my feelings in front of the mirror (I assure you that while working I see myself many times in the mirror) and to understand the attraction to this medium. But…

"In fact, no one sees themselves in mirrors as they are seen by others from outside them" (p.25)

Thus, my confessions will be only about mirrors and their relationship with those they reflect. I will strive to offer the reader the freedom to decipher the images, filtered through their own sensitivity. I will allow myself, however, here and there, to participate with my own thoughts or with quotes I consider appropriate. I admit, in front of a complete work, I, like you, remain on the same side of the mirror. And it is better to stay here, aware that the attempt to go beyond carries the risk of crumbling into the shards of my own reflection.

When I am asked what my profession is, I answer simply: stained glass artist. But if you look for this word in the dictionary, you will not find it. Nor the profession in the nomenclature of jobs. Hence, probably, the surprised or questioning looks of the person who asked the question. I add: luxury glazier. Did you smile? In long forgotten times, in Transylvanian lands, the medieval stained glass artist was called a "fenestrar". He was the artist, according to some, or the craftsman, according to others, who, playing with light and using colored glass, managed to tell a story and decisively influence the atmosphere of the building that hosted his works. I do pretty much the same thing when, surrounding you with light, shadow, and color, I try to introduce you to a story that instills a good state of mind.

I confess, again, that at first, I did not quite understand what attracted me to mirrors decorated with stained glass passe partouts and, moreover, I made a common mistake: I looked for correspondences to see what price I could get by selling them. I think my luck was that in that period I found only very few mirrors decorated with mosaic and none with stained glass. I liked what I was doing and had detached myself from the material part. "I'll see when, how, and for how much I sell them. Now I am making them," I told myself and went about my business. During work, the mirror reflected me, I reflected on my own things and, since the eyes are the mirror of the soul, I began to realize the power of the catoptric installation formed by gazes reflected endlessly: "they are Portals," I thought happily. Portals" I thought happily.

"Without mirrors we would be blind to our own face, and in them we see ourselves, in a proportion difficult to determine, through the eyes of others. But also through our own eyes, whose roots are in the deep soul" (p.23)

Initially I drew flowers, many flowers, because, placed symmetrically or asymmetrically, they form familiar frames and are, sentimentally speaking, synonymous with beauty. Most of us have flowers on our windowsills. At home, besides the flowers at the window, I have a mirror glazed with floral motifs. I look into it when I leave, I charge myself with light and color, with optimism, before stepping into the unknown of a new day where nothing is more predictable than the unpredictable. As I progressed, especially technically, the encouragement from those who crossed the threshold of my workshop increased. And that made me happy. Have you ever looked in the mirror immediately after you succeeded at something (regardless of what that something might be)? I feel like flying. And because for easily understood reasons I cannot, I draw birds, wings, butterflies. This is also a kind of flight. Flight is not only a continuous flapping of wings, I imagine, but involves rises, dives, periods of graceful gliding. Understanding this, I managed to become sincere, to describe moments of joy, sadness, melancholy, dreams, and realities. You have lived them and you will live them again… all of them. "Looking in mirrors, we always ask ourselves something about us, our doubt seeks a certainty impossible to find, to be sought forever." (p.11)

In all my mirrors there is a place I have kept for you. Please, do not use it only to tame a rebellious strand of hair or to straighten your tie. Let your reflection participate together with the decor, to integrate, generating moments. Moments of communication with the self, moments of introspection, or simply generators of a well-being. Those moments in which you will be the artist who completes my works, which are otherwise incomplete without you.

"Someone could have seen you In a photograph or portrait Or in a film Or as a statue, Be it even as a ghost, but no one can tell you, not being there then, that they saw you in a mirror." (p.86)