It’s a pleasant June raining. I’m sitting in my tiny garden, splash, splash, splash – replies the cloudburst. The cat also listens and smells fresh drops. Lobelia becomes even pinker. And in five minutes my bare feet are already warmed by joyful rays.
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Discovering the universe of Justyna Paluch
‘evening hysteria‘
one white moth is a symbol
that life is more important than fear
discipline hurts the child
it is bad deadly fun
life is usually like a cliche
each moment and risk of moment
protect the moth and the white hour
where you would find nothing or everything
I run with this poem at 6 in the morning. The dawn is not so dark anymore. On bus 409, I sit down in my usual seat and open “A Thousand Genious Galaxies” by Justyna Paluch.
Continue readingJohn Keats – poems that have a fragrant and a flavor
I come home from work with Marta and Wiktor, the road is illuminated by the sun, and the minutes are alive by Wierd Fishes, the song of RADIOHEAD. Pretty soon I get off at Tesco and run through the narrow streets to my hairdresser Helena. After an hour, I leave with an artistically tousled haircut that I love. I feel blissful and drop into Marks & Spencer, where I get an orange facial wash and sage to sprinkle my afternoon toasts. But I have no idea, that I’ll read poems by John Keats English Romantic poet. Because when I enter my apartment, there is a package from Baśka, waiting for me. The book with poems together with Jane Campion’s film “Bright Star”.
Continue readingBroadcasts “Wyczytane do Białości” are like moonlight.
There is a gray December Saturday in Irish Galway, but no rain, so people walk around smiling. The Italian cafe is busy, and suddenly I remember that I haven’t been to Dominik Street in a long time. So we go there with my friend Aga and as if by magic we land in France.
Continue readingEurope at Home – the project from Faro links diverse people
„We’re cosmonauts
Can I stay with you inside your brain
That way
We won’t be alone”
-so wrote Jamila Faber of Leeuwarden in the Netherlands in her poem. I discovered her, among other authors, in the album “Europe at Home”, where my text was also published.
Continue readingCat and The City – Nick Bradley
I longed for Tokio, even on snowing days, But look, a freezing, ragged beggar is leaning there on a wall in the backstreets what dream this man?
– a fragment of the poem by Hagiwara Sakutarō “A blue cat”.
Continue readingHey, Teenager! This Is Your Best Guide
My friend Lilka Poncyliusz-Guranowska recently sent me her latest book „Twój Najlepszy Poradnik” (“Your Best Guide”), which she wrote for teenagers. Today I would like to present it to you because I am sure that if I had such a guide as a teen, I would know how to solve some of the difficult situations that I was experiencing at that time.
Continue readingUnder the great roof of the sky – album of Literary Festival “White Locomotive”
Heavy rain is falling from the sky in Irish Galway. I come back on the bike from my work and found the package waiting for me behind the blue door. I already know what it is. Everything goes very fast from Aleksandrów Kujawski. Because these letters are driven by the passion of the founder of the Literary Festival in Łazieniec Biała Lokomotywa (White Locomotive) and my friend, Daria Danuta Lisiecka. For the 20th anniversary of the Polish National Poets Meetings, Daria has prepared a beautiful album.
Continue readingCan the elephant fly?
At magical Kenneys Bookshop & Art Gallery, I had no idea I was walking over to a bookshelf with poetry. I realized it when I pulled a thin publication from the shelf with the interesting title The Elephant in the Corner. The poems it contained reminded me of the taste of every morning coffee I drunk on a graphite sofa or in completely unfamiliar chairs. Aoife Mannix – an Irish poet born in Sweden knows the smell of rented furniture and she does not afraid to present emotions that I am sometimes scared to admit, although they live with me.
Continue readingThe Work On My Book
A few years ago, I got an idea for a book about middle-aged women who consistently work with passion. In Ireland’s humid and changeable climate, I met many self-satisfied women, and they made me love my graying hair. I made interviews to find out how they keep fire in their hearts and shape into action. However, when I wrote seven chapters, I locked them in a file for four years. Not because I didn’t want to continue with this idea, but simply because I didn’t organize my time to work on the book.
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