Blog Archives - Bergina Leka

Apr

Ricordo

“No, bambine non si può uscire. È pericoloso. Giocate dentro casa”
Era il 1997 quando a causa della guerra civile in Albania dovevamo stare dentro casa. Mi ricordo bene di quel periodo, quando il sole per intero lo vedevamo disegnato su un pezzo di carta, e solo qualche raggio ci riscaldava mentre sognavamo il mare.
Mi ricordo mia mamma sempre indaffarata in cucina e le lunghe assenze di mio papà. Mi ricordo la mia gioia quando lui tornava finalmente a casa e con calma posava il suo cappello da militare e mi ricordo bene il sollievo di mia mamma mentre lui ci abbracciava.
Ecco, questi giorni di lockdown mi riportano in un passato non molto lontano… In un passato che sembra un po’ anche presente

Dec

Ombre…

Siamo come le ombre…
È solo grazie al sole che siamo visibili.
Cambiamo forma perché il sole brilla indisturbato dalle nuvole.
E io provo ad essere il tuo sole… Ma Tu sei molto grande e io molto piccola…
Io da sola non ci riesco a far risaltare la tua ombra.

Jul

Riflessione

La verità e che la vita scorre molto veloce
e ad un tratto ci si trova con un pugno di ricordi in mano,
ricordi non necessariamente veri e autentici,
ma è tutto quello che ci rimane….

Jul

Ricordo

Magari qui ci saremmo seduti a prendere un caffè
e poi avremmo sentito il calore del sole sul nostro corpo.
Ma la distanza è veramente tanta,
e posti del genere si trasformano in possibili bellissimi ricordi.

Jun

Assenza

Cerco rifugio in un sogno.
Camminiamo assieme perché non ci sei più
Ti abbraccio forte perché non ti vedo
Ti stringo forte perché non riesco più a toccarti
Tra poco è alba
Tra poco ridiventi ricordo…

Aug

Die slowly

He who becomes the slave of habit,
who follows the same routines every day,
who never changes brand,
who does not risk and change the color of his clothes,
who does not talk to people he doesn’t know
dies slowly.

He who makes television his guru
dies slowly.

He or she who shuns passion,
who prefers black on white,
and the dots on the “i” to a whirlpool of emotions,
precisely those that recover the gleam of the eyes,
smiles from the yawns,
hearts from the stumbling and feelings
dies slowly.

He or she who does not turn things topsy-turvy,
who is unhappy at work,
who does not risk certainty for uncertainty,
to thus follow a dream,
those who do not forego sound advice at least once in their lives,
die slowly.

He who does not travel,
who does not read,
who can not hear music,
who does not find grace in himself,
dies slowly.

He who slowly destroys his self love,
who does not allow himself to be helped,
who spends days on end complaining about his own bad luck,
about the rain that never stops,
dies slowly.

He or she who abandon a project before starting it,
who fail to ask questions on subjects he doesn’t know,
he or she who don’t reply when they are asked something they do know,
die slowly.

Let’s avoid death in small doses,
reminding oneself that being alive requires an effort far greater than the simple fact of breathing.

Only a burning patience will lead
to the attainment of a splendid happiness.

by Martha Medeiros

Jun

Never give up

Before having Isabelle it was “easy” taking pictures. Anytime I felt like it was a good day going out there and search for something special, I could do it. In my bag there was always my flash, 2 other lenses and obviously my Canon. Very often I would take my tripod too, mostly to experiment with long exposure.
Well, Isabelle came and I had to reduce my gear. So the first to be kicked out was my tripod. Luckily Isabelle was growing healthy and that means she was gaining a lot of weight. In no time she was double her size at birth, so I had to lighten my bag and soon enough the only thing I could take with me was just my camera with a 17-70mm lens.
Well I thought, what else could happen to make my job “more difficult”. I was wrong. Isabelle, very often wants to be carried and my camera seems a funny toy to her. So I started to stop and photograph something only when I was 200% sure it was worth it.
During our trip in Albania I was more busy translating conversations between my parents and my husband, who by the way after 4 years of marriage can barely say How are you in albanian so the time to take pictures was drastically reduced.
Two days before our return in UK I could finally meet with my best friend, who lives more than 2 hours away by car. On our way there we found a lot of traffic and we got stuck for another hour. Everybody was hungry. It was almost 3pm. Isabelle was super bored in her car seat and tried all types of cries to make us free her.
It was an absolute nightmare. We started to sing and to play with her, but no way, all she wanted was to get off and run.
Finally we arrived in Fier and our meeting point was my friend’s working place.
I was rushing to meet with her and I was holding Isabelle in my arms. My husband was waiting downstairs for us.
Even though I was tired and I knew I had no time, I couldn’t not notice this staircase and I absolutely loved it and I really wanted to photograph it. I tried my best to hold Isabelle with one hand and the camera on the other one. I took only these two shots and that’s it.
Back home I finally could edit both those and was very happy with the outcome.
I submitted the vertical one to Vogue Italy and they published it. When I saw it published, it really made me happy and it reminded me that if you really want to achieve something there is nothing to stop you, but you. Never give up on your passions !

Check you Vogue Portfolio .

Jun

Come and visit Albania

It was almost 3 years since my last visit in Albania and there are more than 14 years since I left this country initially to live in Italy and now in UK.

It was my daughter’s first visit and we decided to travel a bit around, rather than staying only in Elbasan with my parents. I can’t describe the joy I had while we are travelling in this country. The light is absolutely fantastic, and I had almost forgot it. It shapes the environment and emphasise its colors.

I was not aiming to photograph Albania as a tourist destination, but I was photographing the sensations and feelings that this wonderful country was transmitting to me, to us. We really felt at peace and very much relaxed while we are enjoying a proper albanian meal or drinking a coffee.

Nov

And then I became his wife (the story of a project)

It was like a chapter of my life was going to end. It was like, I was living the last hours of who I was. I had to climb the bridge and there was no turning back. Although I was sure that I really loved him, I was scared. In a few hours I was going to promise to him that I will love and respect him forever…. and that was the word that scared me most: FOREVER. I was leaving everything behind and I was going to become somebody’s wife. What happens if I don’t feel free anymore? What happens if I stop loving him? What happens if we change so much that we even recognise our self?
That was my last night like a single lady. I woke up and the sun was kissing the last drops of the rain of yesterday night and was smiling to me. Far way from home I was bounding my life with that of another man. I wish my mother had seen me that morning and had said to me that I was the most beautiful bride of all the world. I was just about to run away … I wasn’t ready. But then I saw him and I remembered how much I loved him. I remembered all our laughs, how I feel protected on his arms. I was scared, oh God knows how much I was scared… but finally I was ready to start this new adventure. I thought, what happens if I don’t have him on my side for the rest of my life? I kissed him and then I became his wife.
Devastated

Sad bride

This is my territory

I don't want to be here

Bride kissed by the sun

In the ice

Trying to relax

Bride and the Sun

Selected and published as story of the week by JPG Magazine

Oct

Where thou art, that is Home

When people asks me where I am from, things get a bit complicated. It seems so obvious to tell them the name of a country located somewhere in the world. It is indeed true, I am from Albania, this tiny country in the Mediterranean. Of course I feel Albanian in my heart, and this country will always be part of me and I still hold an Albanian passport. Most of the people connect the question “where are you from” with the country of their origins. In that case Albania is the right answer. The thing is that I left Albania when I was 18, and moved to Italy. It’s there where I’ve studied, I’ve grown up and became the woman that I am today. My stay in Italy has changed me in a way that Albania could never have done. So, my home is Italy too.
For me the question “where do you come from” is as well connected to the country where you actually live, where you work during the day and sleep almost every night, where you pay taxes and where you buy food. So I am from the UK too. I do strongly agree with Dickens: ”Where thou art, that is Home”.
When I first moved here, I knew just a little about this country and I thought that the best way to know more, is to travel and visit it, meet the people, watch the life on its streets. I discovered a country of beauty and great culture.
southampton common2