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In the Porch, my steps halt before delving into the mystery of the depths. Between words and the sun-warmed wood settle silence, the scent of prayer, and the echo of never-ending quests.
Personally, for me, this Porch is that of a wooden church. That's how I've felt it ever since Anca revealed this project to me.
The Porch is not just a passageway, but a space for encounter. My pages, a threshold between thought and confession, between world and soul. The reader does not enter it hastily. The storyteller does not boast of his own, and the listener does not interrupt him. He tries, perhaps, only to find himself. And, at the same time, he has a natural joy in sharing with others in the Porch thoughts that were once 'present'.
The Porch thus becomes the symbol of a haven of tranquility. Therefore, here one reads not only with the mind, but also with the heart. And we don't practically read. Here we speak. We speak to ourselves. We speak secretly to others.
And, yes. It smells of sun-warmed wood.
Father Daniel Anghel
Photography by Father Daniel Anghel