Well, hello there!

My name is Gabriela Füstös, born in Romania, living in Zürich-Switzerland for a long time now . I studied marketing and creative media. I am freelancing in webdesign and photography.

What’s in a name

Right: why window, and why orange? First try to imagine a house with no windows- a gloomy thought, no? – and then remember Roberto Benigni in “down by law” drawing a window – una bella finestra– on the jail’s wall? Windows separate worlds in a more subtle way that doors do (did someone ever slam the window on you ?;-)), they let life in and life out, let you observe the world while reflecting your image too. Briefly, a window is a tool of more subtle connection. And orange, well, do you need to ask that, Alin Jula :)? Just loved how it sounded – orange window. And I remember the pleasure of eating the first oranges with my love – the smell of oranges on our hands.

Thoughts to live by

Sometimes I think I’ve done a lot so far, sometimes I’m ready to dismiss it all. In spite all failures (past and future), I am still proud to be unique and different, trying to stay fresh, true to myself, and keep my eyes open. I’ve been there and done that (mis-take is a fine word, isn’t ist?) and I come more and more to peaces with everything I came across. Hey, but there are things, that once met, cannot be taken away from you; also, there are horses that cannot be straddled 😉 and yes, there’s got to be a meaning in everything, even if sometimes that is so damned hard to admit.

I strongly believe, that this life -all things considered- is a lonely ride. Solitude is highly underrated: people try to escape it, when there is actually no way to do it. Don’t get me wrong – family is important, friends are essential and there are people you can connect with, fall in love with, get crazy about, listen to their stories but still, this is a lonely ride.

All is one. Amen.

The Story Of The Heart-Shaped Stone

In older times  people used to say, when their heart was troubled by a sin, by love or by misery, that it was heavy like a stone, that their heart was like a stone.

You, if you were to feel that your heart is like a stone, go to a river, take a stone, throw it into the river and leave in peace, knowing that your soul will be free of sorrow.

Once upon a time, deep in the dreamland, a little girl has found the story of the heart-shaped stone, and lying close, wrapped in white linen, the mysterious heart shaped stone.

One day, the girl went to the river. She threw the stone into the river and watched it sinking. After a long revery, she went to her little house, to sleep in her bed, bathed by imaginary rivers. She fell in a deep sleep and dreamt that she was a stone, carried and thrown into the river by a small girl. She was now in the river, seen by no eye, lying in her bed of stones. Springs, coming from the tall mountains, were touching her and singing her the most wonderful song she has ever been caressed with. Feeling the mountains embrace and the river song she fell asleep and dreamed about a small girl carrying a secret smile on her lips – smile of the ones that know the unrevealed -, daisies on her eyes and lips – waiting for the sun.

Her soul, beautiful and light as a butterfly, was gracefully concealing the fog rising above the river.