There’s no such thing as bad weather, only unsuitable clothingAlfred Wainwright
The force of the wind on the Beaufort scale is nine, a little tree knocked over on some balcony in Galway. I prepare sandwiches and pour coffee into tourist mugs. We put on hoodies, jackets, hats, I take gloves, even it is May. Dauntless sneakers are ready for the adventure. The songs by Polish band T.Love sound in the car, so memories mix with the N59 road, and beige hills with newborn sheep hug their mums on the fields. Long before Clifden, we turn right to the Connemara National Park. The direction is three beautiful beaches.
Don’t think, man, what your life might be, otherwise, it wouldn’t be yours.Czesław Miłosz, The Issa Valley.
Where are you from? – I have heard this question a thousand times in my life. And I always wondered what should I respond: where I come from or where I am currently live? When I lived in Poland, the answer seemed simple, because I was born in this country. Although I landed in the world in Warsaw and after years I moved to Wrocław.
Today is Paddy’s Day – the biggest Irish holiday which the whole world like to celebrate. If you have ever been to Ireland, even in the worst weather, you will leave thrilled. Well, what exactly happened? What is the phenomenon of this small island where the wind ruffles your hair every day, and the rain drips on your face? I asked different people. Irish who live here or abroad, and people of other nationalities to whom Ireland became home.
May the darkness within you recognize
there’s hope for clarity paths aheadfrom the Imbolc blessing
Heavy clouds hug the beginning of February, the rain does want to stop. And the lockdown in Ireland will be until March. The crisis is perching on the windowsill along with green mold. Therefore, instead of looking out the window, I stare at Instagram, and I recognize a familiar symbol in the photo – a square cross made of rushes.
Recently, I have been wearing corduroy trousers again. This time in Tobacco colour. I find in them lines from poems, cigarette smoke from student days, and the fragrance of Cracow. Because dust from many places settles on the corduroy, and between the stripes is my character – a pinch of nostalgia, rebellion, and the amber sun.
Blue Monday was introduced to the calendar as the most depressing day of the year by UK psychologist from Cardiff. January is probably very gloomy and wet in the Welsh capital located on the Bristol Channel, major inlet extent to the North Atlantic. I can imagine it because we have in Ireland the same, even worst.
Recently, I have been translating the poems of my favorite poet Michelle O’Sullivan into Polish again. The first piece from the book The blue end of stars is preceded by an interesting quote from the Czech poet and scientist Miroslav Holub. In surprise I find the answer that I have been looking for so many years.
Feelings are roads, with different colours and surfaces. In New Year, I arrive on a skateboard. A ginger horizon stretches before me. Colours are signposts, although they keep changing, I like to follow them.
Who knows where it is:
the constant dogs, auroras, and wild gardens?
It is very, very, very close from here
It is there, where losing, no one wins
There is the lake and the peak in parallel
and I dance, I swim over, to the void - for nothing.
-sings Mela Koteluk.
Once again Ireland showed me that it does not take much to create the magic.
On the 1st of October is chilly and wet. I put on the Wave Maker’s orange jacket and get on my blue bike. Nothing is happening on Walter Macken Place, and the Mervue housing estate seems to be lifeless. I can see mold on the buildings and temporary road works on the street. However, when I look more closely, I can notice sunflowers in the garden and even a small greenhouse.