Category Events

Under the great roof of the sky – album of Literary Festival “White Locomotive”

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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.

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There Is Time For Clean-Up Beach and Birdwatch

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On a summer afternoon, we met at Nimmo’s Pier in Galway. River Corrib in Claddagh Quay flowed calmly and was a deep blue color. We took bags and litter keepers, which were brought by Tiarnan McCusker – Galway City Environmental Awareness Officer. I had gloves from a few previous coastal clean-up with Wave Makers. We parked our bikes next to the meadow and moved towards blue and green.

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Meeting with Contemporary Iranian Theatre

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Your heart knows the way. Run in that direction.

Rumi

We scroll the reality like a Facebook wall, but the excess of stimuli kills our sensitivity to ordinary things. Sometimes, we smooth our faces in Photoshop because we do not like visible fears and naive dreams. Meanwhile, theatre reveals the truth about being who we really are and what we long for at the bottom of our hearts.

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A birthday cake on the Connemara Hills

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The third lockdown in Ireland lasted almost half a year. We could only move to five kilometers. Recently, the restrictions have been relaxed a bit, and we are allowed to move within one county. Missing Connemara, I could finally visit her. On April 16, the afternoon had a warm gray color, and we went with friends to cut my Birthday cake on the hills.

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Everyday Poetry

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The morning coffee smells like orange trees in the Doña Elvira square in Seville, although it is mystical gray outside the window. I am sitting on the sofa as on a small tiled bench. Instead of the sounds of water in the fountain, I hear the washing machine. Notebook based on corduroy legs. I can’t turn off poetry because it is my life.

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The day marked by notebooks

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This post is dedicated to Agnieszka

Yes, my life is made of little things. I like to discover them from graphite time when clouds and crows look to my window. So, sometimes I have the day marked of crispy bread, or, like last Friday,  marked by notebooks. Then I feel simple happiness. Although it is fragile, I do not want to bind it, because I know that somewhere, once again it will charm me with its small motion.

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