I have always dreamed to be an artist. Unfortunately as I was never a promising painter I had to settle for writing. And this is how writing has become my way of “painting” the world with words.
Learning foreign languages has come as a need to better understand things, people around me and eventually myself. Of course it was also a tool for self-improvement.
The linguistic universe of my first language as large as it might be, proved not to be enough. I have probably experienced the same need a painter feels while mixing colors and creating new ones. I have always had a terrible need of interacting with different people, different cultures and what better means to do it than languages?
For me, languages have their own colors, the ones my mind, my affection assign them.
French is blue, my favorite color. It is a language who makes me smile when hearing the first words. Speaking it makes me feel young, amusing, jovial.
English is silver white. I feel rigorous, extremely polite while talking it. Still, can’t help showing a timid smile in the corner of my mouth. And Spanish... well Spanish is passionately red, like fire, powerful but with a bit of hidden softness.
I don’t recall having troubles learning these languages. I have learned them with joy and a sort of childish curiosity to discover not only new words, but also new meanings. This is why I am not longer only Romanian, I am Romanian with a little touch of French, English and Spanish.
I have written this little text for the contest Tongue stories, a project of European Commission.The prize is a short trip to Bruxelles.
So, if you liked the text you can vote me at: