the Witcher

I have never played any RPG games. I’m afraid that this is the highest time to buy the first such game and to play it. This is The Witcher, based on the idea of A. Sapkowski with marvelous graphic of T. Bagiński. The story of the game is lasting after the time of novels. I very curious what would happened later on. Of course I have my own imagination and I can think about that in different ways, but it is very exciting to compare your conception with the truth which in this case is the conception of the writer. For example I have my own pictures of the death in my mind, but the death described by A. Sapkowski in one novel is really attractive. The death is a young lady in linen dress, who is coming to a person and taking him to a fog. She is sent to people to be with them, because nobody could be alone in this difficult moment.

a ladle

Joan gave me a CD for my birthday. There was the CD I rally had dreamed about, so when I took it out from a bag with colorful tulips, I was really happy. Joan was happy too. She smiled and gave me her best regards. She didn’t show me any sign that there is something more in the bag. I think she didn’t know that there was something in there. It was a very, very small ladle. I think that the ladle was lost by former owner of the bag… Maybe Joan got a present from someone in the bag and missed a part of it? How do you think, should I tell Joan that I discovered the bag’s secret and give her back the ladle? The ladle is not mine, but if I do that Joan will be so ashamed… I’m not going to make her sad… the colorful bag with tulips is not a very serious thing as well as the ladle…

a ghost? a cat?

I went to the Office on Saturday, because I had some work I hadn’t done during previous week. The University building was completely empty. I went to my room and I opened one side of a window. When I was looking through documents I felt that someone is staring at me. It was a cat. He was sitting behind a window (this closed part). He looked as a sculpture. He was gray, classical alley cat. I decided not to move, because I didn’t want to scare him and I went back to my work. After about 10 minutes I looked at the window again. The cat sat in the same position but he moved to a part of the window which was opened. He was observing me rally carefully. It provoke a question "WHY wasn’t the cat afraid of me?". The answer might be, for example that, in a body of the cat there was incarnated a soul of some student from middle ages, who illegally was playing dice whilst studying at University… And his goal was to threaten a university employee… I decided not to take this line of thought. I’m not afraid of cats or ghosts. My irrational fears are much more sophisticated (and funny: fortunately for my friends and unfortunately for me). I’m afraid of aliens sitting in bushes at night… After half an hour the cat disappeared, leaving me with my bureaucracy. The cat was really beautiful. He didn’t look as a homeless cat. I think that it was a kind of rascal looking for adventures in his safe live in some good family.

a sculpture

On the Wszystkich Świętych Square (All Saints Square), in front of the Pavilion of Stanisław Wyspiański appeared a sculpture (first in Kraków !!!) showing a plan of nearest streets prepared especially for blind people (with description in Braille). It is very similar to the sculpture I saw in Cambridge. It is even more interesting because beside buildings and streets existing till today it shows The All Saints church which was demolished in the end of 19th century. To be honest I didn’t know about the church. Of course I could have been more smart. There are two big monastic churches in this square and non of them is named All Saints: neither The Dominicans nor The Franciscans…
I don’t know what it is: a sculpture, a plan? What?

The Guide of Wroclaw

I’ve seen the exhibition The Guide of Wroclaw by blind people. I got to know about the exhibition from the article in Gazeta Wyobrcza. Information was misleading – they said that the exhibition had been done based, on the guide (a book) for blind people. It was not the truth. The exhibition and the book was prepared by blind people and photographers for everyone who likes photography as the art. Photographers made photos of places which had been chosen and described by people who hadn’t been able to see (in the most practical sense) those places. For the society based on "pictures culture", this point of view could be rally interesting. Photographers didn’t care of classical rules of compositions very much. They were concentrated on details pointed out by those who had told stories. The best photo I’ve seen on the exhibition showed a traffic island in the middle of the crosswords. A girl said about this place: when I’m on this traffic island, everywhere cars are around me, everywhere. I’m afraid of them and I don’t understand why such place like the island exists here. The photographer was able to catch this filling of fear. I think, that without the story, he wouldn't considered this place as a good subject for a photo.
A visitor of the exhibition can also listen to recorded sounds from the place and look at the information about the picture printed in brail.

Cats

I like graffiti very much. It is important to me to take photos of nice graffiti because it disappears very quickly. Those cats were painted on the wall of a place for dustbins on September. I was passing by it everyday whilst walking with my dog. I used to see it. Yesterday the wall was repainted. It is clean and white now, but it isn’t as beautiful it was the day before yesterday. Fortunately I have the photo of cats. The picture of cats on the wall of dustbins show an intelligence an sense of humor of the author. Cats always brawls in rubbish even they have good families and safe home.

Rose and snow

It’s first snow of the season. I like it, however generally I don’t like winter. First day of winter is always beautiful. The snow is clean and surprising for nature. It covers autumn leafs, berries and flowers which haven’t drop yet. Dogs are very happy, try to play in new surrounding, protect cold paws and look for their everyday smells under the snow.

Andrej Rublow by A.Tarkowski

A few month ago I was talking with my father about the film Andrej Rublow by A. Tarkowski. He was surprised that I hadn’t seen any of A. Tarkowski’s films and he promised to find a copy of the film for me. A few days ago I got a cassette. I don’t have the necessary equipment to play the cassette so I called Joanna and asked her for a " film-watching meeting". She, of course, agreed. The film was about an artist’s doubts about his work and the sense of human life (that is nice generalization, isn’t it? ). We don’t know much about Rublow’s life, so probably that was more the authors imagination abut those problems, than a source of knowledge about the icon painter. Joanna was terrible as always. When she saw ants on the legs of Teofan Grek she said to me: "You didn’t tell me that it would be horror movie!!!"
I think that a grammar construction should be the future in the past… I don’t remember how to do it… so some more explanation is needed. Joanna is afraid of insects. A film with at least one insect is a horror film for her (she likes classical horrors very much). Her reproach was a kind of joke about her most serious fear.
And the film? Very good. Especially for those who treat art seriously.

Aarhus some month ago

Jutland is like a cats fur – smooth and neat… I hear scream of seagulls flying over docks of a seaport… By a window I see a clock tower of The Town Hall. It’s raining. It’s windy. It’s cold. It is as it should be in a cold country ;)

An Angel

I remember Rastafarian’s beads on Maria’s wrist, when she shook my hand first time. I’m not able to divide what I learned from her and what was mine in that time. I’m sure that she has changed me very much. I remember when we seeing of each other home, exchanging letters during boring lessons, walking through mountains (a lot of time for talking and to being silent together)… Her words still rings in my ears: "stones! You keep stones in your bag, don’t you? No? So why is it so heavy?!?", "did anyone promise you, that live would be easy?", "so small bottle of perfume in so small make-up bag… it must be yours?"
As soon as she discovered that I was shy, she got stopped back to let me go thru the door first. That was very nice, funny and a bit effective.
Everything finishes so this friendship has finished. I miss her. In my bedroom, on the wall a picture of an angel made by Maria is hanging. Friends leave prints in one’s soul.

A heart

Whilst I was going to work today, I went to the Coffee Heaven and ordered the Coffee Latte. I was in hurry so I was very disappointed when a girl and a boy were flirting, instead of making my coffee. After few minutes the boy started pouring milk to a mug. The girl was observing it carefully. I guessed that he was teaching her haw to make a picture of coffee on milk cream.
Then he gave me my coffee. There was a beautiful heart on the cream. I’m sure, that the heart was not for me, but for the girl working in the Coffee Heaven.

It’s raining all the time. It is so frustrating. I miss olives groves in Cyprus. I’ve seen them a week ago. It is hardly difficult to believe in it. In the photo: an olives grove.

An old lady and seal

I met an old lady in the hotel’s hall. She was waiting for a lift, without any hope for success. She didn’t know how to call it. She was about 80 years old. She was unbelievable thin, her feet were bare. She wore white pants, strap shirt and straw hat. She was going to the beach I think. I solved her problem very quickly by pressing a bottom a bit harder then she had it done.
I went outside with her. She smiled me and said good bye and went to the beach indeed. I turned left towards an Ancient Museum. After some days I remember well only one thing. It was a kind of cylindrical seal form Bronze Age. It was very small, black with figures on it. In the print could be seen two man: a naked one and dressed in long dress and a helmet. Between them were on one side a spear and on the other side a jug, a ball and a dog like in a childish drawing: with pointed nose protruding ears and rounded tummy

Les Temoins

During festival of The Jewish Culture I went to Schindler Factory to se the exhibition of modern art The memory of this Moment from the Distance of Years. The exhibition was in abandoned and neglected factory halls. Destroyed machines, scrapped walls, specific industrial smell created marvelous space for this kind of art, but in such places there is very difficult to guess what is a piece of art. For example I really don’t know if some crumpled papers and some origami which was lying on a shelf in hall 12 was someone’s work or just some rubbish left by a security guard. I like it. You come into specific space and you must decide what is important for you. And learn something about you. From this point of view I must say that I went to the factory to see a loft in a hall 13 -- Les Temoins by Christian Boltanski. It was prepared specially for the exhibition. The room was very dark. On the floor there were thin floorboards. The light was coming through cracks between them. The light and a dust in it was trembling. The floor seemed to be very brittle and delicate. Everywhere was hanging old coats and jackets. I went into the room, because I wanted so much to be between those thing, however I was afraid that I could fell down from this brittle floor. I felt like wire-walker going into the past.

A flower

I read a book of Ernest Gellner Postmodernism, reason and religion. It helps to understand the tension between religion and contemporary science (can I say it in this way?...). I read it only for broadening my mind about the subject, but previous reader of this copy (I took it from the University Library) had to read it for an exam I suppose… every line is underlined… It is disturbing even for me. I usually like observe what was important for else, whilst reading. Sometimes I read such notices more carefuliy. I also make a lot of exclamation marks in margins. But underlining everything?!?... On 31st page I found something which could be a reward for me: two flowers sketched by this crazy reader. What do you think about it? Beautiful isn’t it?