I didn’t arrive at Terminal Zeta through journalism, communications, or a traditional creative path.
I started with modern languages and a PhD in comparative literature, studying how texts and cultures move across borders.
I spent 12 years living abroad—in Ireland, Spain, Ecuador, and the US—and traveled through more than 40 countries.
Then I left academia for a role in business development at a UK multinational, managing markets in Southeast Europe. It was a bit of an unexpected pivot that put me face-to-face with the real mechanics of crossing industries, careers, cultures, and international borders.
Now I live near Bologna, in the North of Italy, commuting daily on train platforms.
Terminal Zeta is a journal and creative portfolio. Through writing, photography, and visual art, I document “places” of crossing. Some are geographical, but many are not: cultures, professions, languages, memories, systems, anything that can be crossed.
Every observation fits one of three states:
The Buffer Zone: The space sitting between two worlds—a border strip, an overlap between two languages, or the grey area between career shifts.
In Transit: The state of being underway—night buses, highways and city walks.
The Waiting Room: The pause. The stationary spaces where time stretches out—commuter platforms, airport gates, and late-night cafes.
I’ve always been drawn to terminals—not just transit hubs like airports, train stations and ports, but also the pauses between one thing and the next.
“Zeta” is the last letter of the Italian alphabet. You’ve probably sat at Terminal A, B, or C, but have you ever waited at Terminal Z? It sounds like an ending, an improbable destination, but it’s actually a threshold where something new begins.
Most people treat borders, transit, and waiting rooms as dead time. I want to challenge that mindset. These are not empty spaces; they are where the mask drops .
We move through life rushing, optimizing, and trying to eliminate friction. The point here is to reverse that perspective: to stop running, stand still, and turn that friction into a lens for observation and creation.
You’ll enjoy it here if you think the best part of the journey isn’t always the destination, but what becomes visible in between.
Welcome to the Terminal,
Sara Ceroni,
crossing into art as Ines Vela
