Night in Newcastle

I went to Newcastle Museum again last month. I remember a part of exhibition of Yoko Ono: a room with soldier’s helmets from Second World War. Helmets were hanging upside down on thin, white threads like nests. Helmet and nest… Protection? I hadn’t wanted to disturb the atmosphere of the room so I didn’t come in – I was standing on the doorstep. Unfortunately two women came. Sounds of their conversation were annoying for me. It also disturbed the sound of singing birds which was presented in the background. It destroyed the atmosphere, so I finally decided to go among the helmets. I was walking all around. It was a better perspective indeed… I was really stupid standing alone outside.

a pendant

I got from my father a pendant a few month ago. He had found it in a clinic. I was really happy for the present, because it was very symbolic and characteristic for my father. I remember from my childhood that he was always bringing to home some buttons, stones, pieces of jewelry, sometimes even money, found somewhere on the street. I was wearing the pendant as a present from my father more precious then anything he could bought even for big money.
Unfortunately, the pendant didn’t stay with me for a long time. I lost it a few days ago. If a thing can have a destiny, probably the destiny of it was to pass form ones hands to the others.

Szpieg z Krainy Deszczowców

This is a real treasure among graffiti. Let me introduce you to the Spy from the Rain Peoples Country – a hero of children’s tale. He was following The Wawel Dragon who had set off on a rescue expedition with help to professor Baltazar Gąbka. I forgot about existing all those heroes, so to find this picture it was nice surprise for me.

smiling oval

When I was trying to find The Museum of Modern Art it was raining very hard. It was cold, dark, wet… I almost surrounded, when I saw the building. I got in and went to café to have some tea firstly. Then I bought a ticket and started to look for something interesting for me. In second room I saw a picture of Jean Miro with a smile especially for me in it. There was an white oval, like a head, with a smile. Background was brown with black lines symbolizing a corner of a room. It was beautifully balance for this terrible weather, like a bicycle in the picture taken on a street in San Francisco. Beautiful, but it is a pity for me that I can’t understand an inscription.

It was my first day in San Francisco

A hotel in which a conference was held seemed to be a very good place for such event, but when I awoke in the first morning I was depressed. It was like an island between highways, far far away from the real world I like so much. During a coffee brake I broke through roads and car parks in direction could be promising. In the end I stud on a bank of Bay and I was observing aircrafts.

goodbye to Paris

A taxi driver who drove me to the airport was listening some African music, when I got in to the car. He immediately turned it off and started to look for something which, in his opinion, could be better for me. Probably I don’t look like a person who can accept such kind of music early morning… I didn’t tell him that the music was very nice for me, because I’m definitely a person who hates contacts with anybody early morning. Fortunately, because of terrible interference, he finally decided to get back to his music. This African tune was still ringing in my ears when I was traversing airport’s corridors. A magic goodbye to Paris…

St. Martha

My favourites showpiece in The Museum of Moyen Age is a sculpture of St. Martha and repetants (or donors?) from the end of 15th century. Marhta is carrying a bucket in her left hand. She has her head wrapped with a headscarf. She wears a beautifully draped dress. Her face and all folds of cloth are carved very precisely. By her right side there are figures of people, kneeing and praying. They look as if they were ghosts or figures made of fog. Their heads and faces are only sketched, eyes are presented by small holes drilled in faces. The way of showing the contrast between figures of different significance enraptured me.

Again in Paris

I’m here again only for a moment. The city is like always. I file as if I’ve never went out of it, but only as if I haven’t been in favourites places for a long time. In the few moments of spare time I have, I look at windows of Parisian tenements and observe people drinking coffee and reading newspapers in cafes. One time in a radio I heard a description of the city done by Czesław Miłosz. It was Paris. I guessed, not knowing where he was living as an emigrant. He was able to convey atmosphere of the city – everything what I like and dislike in Paris.

My dentist said that I look like Olga Tokarczuk who is a writer. This comparison amused me, because it was very simple association: my hair is as short as hers and I like similar clothes as she wears. It was funny but I didn’t ignore this remark. The same taste in small things might mean closeness in more serious things. Seating on the dentists chair I said to myself that it is highest time to read her book. I heard a lot good opinion about her writing, more over this year she got a very important literary prize. When I was going home from the dentist I bought the rewarded book Bieguni. This the book about travelling. It is really for me, isn’t it? I travel a lot and I really don’t know what made me tired more: being on the way or waiting for another travel.
In the photo: travelling – Iceland.

instead of...

When I have to do something in the city after my work, usually going home I have to change my bus on the stop near dormitories of Technical University. I noticed a long time ago, that there is a small graffiti there. This is a picture of a girl with red flower in her dark hair. Below there is a rose with a drop of blood dripping from its thorn. I have never made a picture of it because of not enough light for making photo. I will do it one day, but at the moment we must be satisfied with a photo of the same graffiti without the rose. This is a stop of tram number 14.