POST SCRIPTUM Eng - October 2019




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ISSN 2633-1292 1/<strong>2019</strong> fb:post scriptum<br />


Ewa Ćwikła<br />

Marcin Kurcbuch<br />

Darek Marszałek<br />

Renata Słomkowska<br />


Joanna Nordyńska<br />

Małgorzata Warda<br />




Renata Cygan, Jarosław Prusiński<br />



<strong>POST</strong> <strong>SCRIPTUM</strong> 1



Renata Cygan and Jarosław Prusiński<br />

An interesting story about a man becoming a woman.<br />

How is he movingin in this world?<br />

10 Małgorzata Warda - an interview with the writer.<br />

14 Piotr Jastrzębski - ABOUT THE FORGOTTEN ERA OF READING<br />

POETRY<br />

18 Poems sent by readers<br />

22 RECOMENDED: Marcin Kurcbuch<br />

24 Festivals, rallies, poetic meetings<br />


28 Jarek Prusinski talkes to Maja Borowicz - an artist. a painter,<br />

graphic designer. FLoating between magical and emotional realism.<br />

38 The light of Rembrandt and Vermeer - a photographer Ewa Ćwikła<br />

interviewed by Agnieszka Biardzka.<br />

46 DAREK MARSZAŁEK - a body as a piece of art (performance)<br />


52 Joanna Nordyńska - HIMALAYAS<br />

60 A conversation with Renata Słomkowska, a rockband manager<br />

ENJOY !<br />

the cover: MAJA BOROWICZ<br />


We welcome and value your comments<br />

and opinions on the magazine.<br />

Feel free to email us:<br />

pscriptum96@gmail.com<br />

EDITORS: Jarosław Prusiński, Agnieszka Biardzka, Iwona Niezgoda, Renata Cygan, Robert Knapik.<br />

Translations: Renata Cygan, Magdalena Lesiak<br />

Graphics: Renata Cygan<br />

fb:post scriptum<br />

e-mail: pscriptum.mag@gmail.com


Empires were rising and falling apart, and rulers got lost<br />

in the past. Nothing is permanent – neither honours, nor<br />

power, nor money, nor national borders. Memory erases.<br />

The only thing left by extinct civilizations is Art. Art distinguishes<br />

us from millions of species inhabiting our planet (although there<br />

is a sea fish, which to get a partner creates beautiful rosettes at<br />

the bottom of the sea. This fish grinds in the modes of this beautiful<br />

reasoning, but we can pretend that there is no such fish at all.<br />

And even if it exists, it is only an exception confirming the rule).<br />

So, let’s start. Here we go. The first issue of the <strong>Eng</strong>lish-language<br />

edition beautifully appears. In this issue there are materials prepared<br />

by Polish editors of our magazine. The next issues will host<br />

more and more artists from around the world - not only from Poland<br />

or the UK, but also from other countries and other continents.<br />

The magazine is paid symbolically, but paid, because we do not<br />

want to publish any sponsored adverts. We want to be honest<br />

with you. Please forgive this minor inconvenience, but you can’t<br />

make a magazine without money. We have costs: internet service,<br />

translations, proofreading, or even trips to artistic events.<br />

We are very grateful for every penny or cent. It is thanks to you that<br />

we will be able to publish this magazine. It is thanks to you that<br />

many unknown and talented artists will be able to find their recipients.<br />

We need your support. You are the patrons of art. Thank you!<br />

NOW IT’S Now TIME it’s time TO to begin! BEGIN!<br />

PS. If any of you would like to support us in any way – send interesting<br />

materials, tell us about an artistic event or an artist, cooperate<br />

on a non-regular or permanent basis – please contact us. You can<br />

also support us financially by paying a small amount to our account.<br />


SORT CODE: 309626 ACC Number: 57418160<br />

<strong>POST</strong> <strong>SCRIPTUM</strong><br />



Renata Cygan, Jarosław<br />

Renata Cygan, Jarosław Prusiński<br />

July 15th<br />

I<br />

walk on these damn hills, and my legs bend in all possible<br />

and impossible ways. With all the concentration I<br />

am trying not to fall on my face. Jesus, girls, why do you<br />

do that to your feet? I feel like they are being squeezed in<br />

a vice. Women. And your constant desire to look beautiful<br />

and the irritation when one admires your beauty. You are<br />

so inconsistent, strange, indefinite. All wrong. Give you a<br />

compliment – a total disaster – the offence of the majesty<br />

of the Queen. Not saying anything – wrong again. You<br />

think we are being rude. How to talk to you? What about?<br />

You want people to see the advantages of your brain, but<br />

you put all your effort into beautifying your looks. Read a<br />

book sometime! This would do more for your attractiveness<br />

than this filler, which just starts to melt on my face.<br />

It’s not nice at all. You lose the unique features of your<br />

own physiognomy and change into mannequins. Wax<br />

puppets. In addition, it is disgusting when it comes to kissing.<br />

It can put us off. I desire you, but I don’t like you. And<br />

I don’t understand you. You tend to be mean, aggressive,<br />

arrogant, lofty, inaccessible, distrusted. Guardians of own<br />

panties, which you fiercely defend against the enthusiasm<br />

of bearish guys but at the same time you are provoking<br />

with short skirts and revealed frontage. Women!<br />

A big, shaggy dog jumps towards me with his teeth, but<br />

I defend myself with a purse. I’m waving it like a flail and<br />

finally get to the taxi. I place myself hurriedly on the back<br />

seat, with these hills, long legs (now I can see that it has<br />

not only advantages) and two-kilogram, fashionable bag.<br />

Whew. I have been a woman for two minutes and already<br />

came close to death twice! I give the overweight, sweaty<br />

taxi driver the name of my hotel.<br />

‘Of course, my queen’– The guy smiles sneakily and turns<br />

on the engine. I do not like this “queen”, but don’t com-<br />

4 <strong>POST</strong> <strong>SCRIPTUM</strong>

ment. I am very sweaty, and in addition, I feel moisture<br />

between my legs. I don’t know if women sweat there,<br />

or perhaps I got a period? I struggle with temptation to<br />

check it out with my finger. The taxi driver is staring at me<br />

in a rear-view mirror. I nervously check my bag. Women<br />

carry pads in their bags just in case, right? Now this is the<br />

“in case” scenario. I am still going through my bag constantly<br />

poking my breasts. For goodness sake – this is so<br />

uncomfortable! Ok, nice, but uncomfortable.<br />

‘What sex do you want to choose?’ – a woman asked me<br />

during registration.<br />

‘ I can choose?!’ – The woman pulls a face, as if a child<br />

had asked her the most obvious thing in the whole world.<br />

I wanted to be a young, handsome guy so women would<br />

find me attractive. But why have the trouble if everything<br />

could be at hand? Maybe it would be better to be a lesbian?<br />

I am thinking …<br />

I don’t know if I have a period. I don’t think my stomach<br />

hurts. But maybe it doesn’t have to hurt? My feet ache so<br />

much that I don’t feel my belly. I couldn’t find the pads.<br />

And besides, how do you wear them? The wings are fixed<br />

to the skin or the panties? I try to recall the advertisements<br />

and after a while I’ve got it. To the panties! I discreetly<br />

lift the skirt (or is it a dress? I never know what’s<br />

what) and see the first problem. I don’t wear panties! I<br />

will need to buy them, but what size do I wear? Damn!<br />

What are the sizes of women’s knickers?!<br />

The taxi driver turns right, then right again. And again.<br />

Makes a circle. He thinks I am an idiot? We stop at the hotel.<br />

Through the rear window I see the place he picked me<br />

from. He thinks I am a complete idiot! On the taximeter<br />

I see thirty-four zloty. – You don’t have to pay – he gives<br />

me a disgusting smile, handling over his business card.<br />

‘I finish work at six. Maybe a coffee?’<br />

Coffee at six, you idiot? I’ve been a woman for ten minutes<br />

and I have already become a feminist! Do women<br />

really come into contact with such guys? I guess I’m beginning<br />

to understand what my girlfriends spoke about. I<br />

look into his blurry eyes which are wandering around my<br />

thighs and décolletage. I feel almost raped in this damn,<br />

stuffy taxi. My girlfriends told me stories like that, but<br />

back then I just thought they exaggerated, talked rubbish<br />

and were simply double-minded. Because how can you<br />

want something and don’t want at the same time? To like<br />

sex and feel offended when guys want to give it to them?<br />

‘You are a pretty piece of ass’ – the taxi driver vomited<br />

out the compliment – ‘I would … between those legs ... I’d<br />

make myself very comfortable between them...’<br />

‘You wanted to have a shag for thirty-four zloty?’ – I hand<br />

him a hundred zloty with a poker face.<br />

‘Usually I take a thousand’ – The smile is slowly dying on<br />

his lips. ‘Oh, you are one of those ...’ – He is trying to find<br />

the right word.<br />

‘And you are one of those penny-pinchers, I see. Keep the<br />

change – maybe you will find something cheaper? Get<br />

yourself a drink on me.’ I also mention something about<br />

whores. And wonder if this was not too sexist. Naaah, after<br />

all I’m a woman now, I’m allowed! Now he knows that<br />

there will be no sex, so his attitude changes radically, he<br />

becomes very rude. I try to withdraw my cosmically long<br />

legs and a puzzley-sized butt from the taxi. He drives off<br />

before I have a chance to close the door. I hate such morons!<br />

In the hotel room I take off my clothes. The irritation at<br />

the taxi driver falls on the floor together with my floral<br />

dress. I stand naked in front of the mirror and seem to<br />

float in the air. I am filled with joy. Women always overestimate<br />

the importance of their appearance. And for<br />

us guys, sometimes a little imperfect physique is more<br />

arousing. But this one is perfect, and it’s all mine! I look at<br />

my large, slightly saggy (mmmm) breasts, beautiful butt<br />

and smooth thighs. Before the procedure was finished,<br />

before they connected me to all the cables, and I started<br />

dreaming, I thought of this very moment; To strip naked<br />

and check how the female clitoris works. I’ve seen these<br />

effects many times: goose bumps all over the body, groaning<br />

from half-opened lips, sometimes screaming. And now<br />

I can check it all on myself. Wonderful! I put my fingers<br />

down and I feel... I feel that I don’t want to. I lost interest.<br />

God damn! I can’t be bothered! I’ve become a female<br />

impotent! I need a shower. My good mood is washed<br />

out with sweat and all the dust from the street. I want to<br />

cry. Over my unwillingness to have sex and the fact that I<br />

treat myself like an object. After all, I have a soul for fuck<br />

sake! It is somewhere there, under my breasts. I guess I<br />

am crying. Don’t know for sure, because I’m still standing<br />

under the shower. Okay, I must pull myself together.<br />

It’s probably a hormonal shock. I just stopped receiving<br />

subsequent doses of testosterone from the testes and got<br />

huge portion of oestrogen. I need to calm down. I stop<br />

the water, dry my body with the hotel towel, but my long<br />

hair is still wet. I need to buy a hairdryer. But actually, it<br />

doesn’t bother me at all. It’s hot anyway. I throw myself<br />

on the bed and try not to cry...<br />

I’m going to the sea. I know that Matylda Krzemińska...<br />

– no, it’s Krzemieńska – spent the whole day on the<br />

beach. In two days Matylda will disappear, and her distraught<br />

family will report this fact to the police. On the<br />

eighteenth of July in the morning. A week has passed in<br />

the real world, but I’m not in the real world right now. I<br />

am dreaming along with few others under the control of<br />

some artificial, biological super-brain, to which we are all<br />

connected with neuro-conducts. Each of us hoping to dis-<br />

<strong>POST</strong> <strong>SCRIPTUM</strong><br />


cover something useful for the police and get a fat bonus.<br />

Each of us dreaming our own, independent dream. It is<br />

the fifteenth of July.<br />

I can already feel the salted breeze and my mood improves<br />

dramatically. The closer to the sea, the more joyful I am.<br />

I used to have a very good nose, like a dog, I could even<br />

sense the fertile days in a woman. But that was long ago.<br />

Besides, now I have a different sense of smell, and it’s not<br />

mine. The forest is slowly ending, and I see an overwhelming<br />

blueness in the distance. I need to take advantage of<br />

the tree cover and do one more thing. The beach toi-toi<br />

is the last thing I would consider using. I squat down, pull<br />

my dress to the waist and pee. It’s not too successful, because<br />

some goes on my thigh. Lack of training. I will learn.<br />

But fortunately, it doesn’t spoil my good mood. Something<br />

else interferes with my good mood. I don’t have any<br />

wipes! Guys don’t need them, so I didn’t think about it.<br />

What a disaster! Shall I do this with a leaf? Again, I’m close<br />

to tears...<br />

I lie on the sand with my eyes closed. I breathe in salty,<br />

moist air, and the hum of waves swing me to sleep. What<br />

bliss. Somewhere close I hear people fencing themselves<br />

in, as if they had paid for those few meters of the beach,<br />

as if the beach belonged to them. In the distance children<br />

scream, dogs bark. Someone is calling, somebody runs<br />

through my blanket with a kite. And it’s not a child, it’s<br />

an adult guy! I am slightly pissed off. The kite man throws<br />

me goo-goo eyes and runs away. A kid on the blanket<br />

next to me digs a hole, the sand particles end up on my<br />

breasts and belly. It could be really blissful if it weren’t<br />

for those people. Noisy, embarrassing, demanding. They<br />

want to have it all, they think they deserve it after a year<br />

working in a dirty factory. Now they are able to grab a<br />

piece of what they think is theirs to grab. They have fierce,<br />

grim faces. They are waiting for an excuse to explode, to<br />

unload the frustration they accumulated during a whole<br />

working year. However, the father of the hole digging kid<br />

doesn’t look at me with anger. Rather... Damn! I still forget<br />

that I am a woman. Surely the guy stares at my breasts<br />

with this ridiculous smile on his face. I’m starting to understand<br />

what my girlfriends spoke about. Guys tend to<br />

be so emmmm, randy. On the other hand, I can understand<br />

this, but why is he staring at me? Why not the other<br />

women! Anyway, this is ridiculous, I’m not gay. I move my<br />

eyes towards Matylda. She lies down as before. Like dead.<br />

As soon as I think that, it makes me feel uncomfortable. I<br />

hope that in the real world, she is still alive and well. I look<br />

at the kid’s father. He is no longer staring. He is busy putting<br />

sun cream on his wife’s back and shouts at his little<br />

digger. The kid stops digging. Good, because if he did it for<br />

a bit longer, I’d be buried alive.<br />

Someone is observing Matylda. Pretty handsome guy (did<br />

I really think that?) in orange shorts. He looks like a rescuer<br />

from that stupid series with Pamela Anderson. He<br />

stands still and looks. I turn onto my belly to see better,<br />

but actually there is nothing to look at. The lifeguard spots<br />

me, gives me a smile and goes off. I guess I was smiling<br />

too! God! That’s disgusting. I feel a burst of anger. At myself,<br />

at the guy in orange shorts, and at my neighbour and<br />

his son, who likes to dig holes like a dog. I’m watching<br />

Matylda. I look at her slightly opened, nice, tanned thighs<br />

and feel a rush of lust. Fortunately, I’m still hetero. Though<br />

in these circumstances, I’m rather a lesbian. Anyway, I still<br />

like pussy. This thought makes me feel better. I close my<br />

eyes and give in to the noise of the sea. It’s good. Nothing<br />

is going to happen today. I am floating away…<br />

July 16th<br />

In the morning they appeared again. They overruled<br />

me, overwhelmed, rotted, and squeezed like a wet cloth.<br />

Dreams. Nightmarish, breath-taking, penetrating the<br />

deepest, most hidden corners of the subconscious. And<br />

this familiar fear. Fear for someone, about something,<br />

about the closest person, most valuable treasure. This<br />

dream comes back to me every now and again, usually<br />

when I am in a seeming consolation, when I am close to<br />

sorting out my life. Then they strike with double force. I<br />

mostly run away. I’m running, or rather trying to run, because<br />

even though I arrange my legs for running, my whole<br />

body stands still in one place. I’m extending my steps, I try<br />

to jump, I use my hands, I try to crawl, I start to move like<br />

a frightened animal. I’m like a cougar on a chain, caged<br />

lioness, a swallow with broken wings. I move a millimetre<br />

after millimetre, but the chasing enemy is right behind<br />

me… At this point, I usually wake up. This morning too. Despite<br />

the panic and fear, my sweated body and my heart<br />

pounding I really wanted to dream it to the end. I wanted<br />

to stop this image, to finally find out what’s happening<br />

next. But I was unsuccessful again. Again, I couldn’t find<br />

out who is so keen to capture me, who or what is luring on<br />

my life, health and soul. As always, I wake up before the<br />

alarm goes off. The ringing noise always stresses me. It is<br />

7am, it’s warm, though still a bit crisp, but it already feels<br />

that it will be a hot day. I open my eyes, try to come back<br />

to reality. The memory of the sleep races slowly become<br />

blurred. First thought: I’m still a woman. I’m a woman. I<br />

repeat it again – I am a woman! With blood and bones,<br />

with all the attributes and randomness. I am an attractive<br />

woman; good looking and very feminine. I am a woman;<br />

a woman, a girl, a female, aware of her beauty and the<br />

power. I am surrounded by this mysterious aura; I know<br />

how to use what nature has given me in its extraordinary<br />

favour. It’s a great feeling. I have this astonishing power, it<br />

fills my body under all the expensive clothes I discovered<br />

in the hotel closet. It’s great. Doubts go away, now I only<br />

6 <strong>POST</strong> <strong>SCRIPTUM</strong>

think about the fact that I feel very sexy. And I thank the<br />

fate (?) that it gave me such a beautiful coating. Well, I<br />

could, after all, wake up in an unattractive woman’s body;<br />

with dry hair, bad skin and unshaved legs. I smile at my<br />

own thoughts. The nightmares disappeared.<br />

I’m going to this beach, but differently. Not only because<br />

during the transformation I lost a good few pounds. I’m<br />

walking with love, as if the act of moving my legs alternately,<br />

was kind of a mission. As if my walking served a<br />

higher purpose. Kind of rocking-swinging steps. A dance<br />

or something similar to a dance. I must admit that I like<br />

this seemingly prosaic act. I mean it was prosaic, when<br />

I was a man. Now it has gained some magic. This situation<br />

makes me feel happy, I begin<br />

to arrange my feet on the sand,<br />

gently pull my toes, while admiring<br />

my perfect pedicure, hips slightly<br />

swinging, they become rounder,<br />

arms and hands co-play. My neck<br />

pulls up, my chin travels slightly<br />

upwards. I’m graceful, I feel<br />

like a butterfly. I’m light and airy.<br />

A pleasantly delicate sea breeze<br />

plays with my fragrant hair, further<br />

enhancing this airiness. I smile. For<br />

the first time, with full consciousness<br />

I feel that I like being a woman.<br />

For quite surprising reasons,<br />

not because I have unlimited access<br />

to tits (I hate the word!), or<br />

the parts below (suddenly I have<br />

problems with obvious naming?). I<br />

hope I will not become too prudish.<br />

I can’t keep up with my own brain,<br />

I have no idea what it hides under<br />

the skull (and soft, bright hair).<br />

The thought of sex with a man is<br />

no longer disgusting, it is actually<br />

quite pleasant. I feel like dragging<br />

my hands through my body, from<br />

breasts to rocking hips. I don’t do that, but I feel a sensual<br />

pleasure at the thought. I’m very sensuous, I think of a silk<br />

kimono touching my tanned body. The word ‘sensualism’<br />

has something sensual in it. Sounds like a caress, it’s like<br />

a blossoming rose, a velvet chocolate mousse on the palate.<br />

It’s a gentle brush, a swipe that wakes up hunger at<br />

the very moment of saying it. A dragonfly, sea breeze and<br />

a cloud. What the hell! If it goes on like that, I will start<br />

writing poems!<br />

I wonder why this new situation feels so normal. Where<br />

did I get this knowledge of female world? Only yesterday<br />

I had problems with my long hair, my legs got tangled<br />

trapped in high hills, going to the toilet was full of puzzles<br />

and traps. And now, somehow my world has changed<br />

dramatically. Suddenly everything became so clear; I discovered<br />

a new world that had been hidden from me, but<br />

it was always somewhere close, within the reach of my<br />

own hands. Déjà vu? Axis Mundi? I feel that I’ve been reworked.<br />

Maybe there are parallel worlds out there? Does<br />

that mean that I’m immortal? Am I a part of a multiverse<br />

suspended in space? Is there more of me? Me-women,<br />

me-men or even me-trees? Maybe these countless, alternative<br />

universes are inhabited by countless copies of<br />

me? Maybe here and now I am the best example of the<br />

fact that the sister universe, the third side of the page, is<br />

lurking right next to me? But that’s not relevant at this<br />

moment. I need to concentrate on here and now. I need<br />

to go back to the case, focus on observing<br />

Matylda. I walk confidently,<br />

already knowing where to find her<br />

– for a few last days she goes to one<br />

place, a little aloof, a bit away from<br />

other people, but not too far to be<br />

completely isolated.<br />

I can see her already. I see this unpretentious<br />

young, fresh and perfect<br />

body. The body, that accelerate<br />

pulse in men, and make women<br />

jealous. I am not an exception.<br />

Once again, I conclude that she is<br />

perfect. Perfect is everything in her<br />

– a firm body, a flat belly, a curvy<br />

buttock (without a gram of cellulite),<br />

not too large breasts, bright,<br />

shiny hair, proportional face. She<br />

is not a classic beauty; she doesn’t<br />

have this empty nothingness in her<br />

face like most models from magazines.<br />

Her facial features are a bit<br />

too sharp, enhanced by very dark<br />

eyebrows. The lips are a little too<br />

narrow, against the current fashion<br />

of “fish mouth” But in my opinion,<br />

they are beautiful. Everything in<br />

her is perfect. It drives me crazy. But I quickly fight this<br />

attack of jealousy, pull myself together, and with a stoic<br />

calm I occupy my piece of sand, from which I see perfectly<br />

my light-haired ward. I see the sea, the beer and<br />

ice-cream shop, and the main path along the dunes. I can<br />

keep an eye on everything. I unfold my towel, remove my<br />

tunic, fix my bra, tie my hair. Moisturising my body with a<br />

filter cream, I constantly observe Matylda.<br />

The lifeguard from yesterday appears. He came out<br />

from nowhere, as if he lurked somewhere nearby. Was he<br />

waiting for me? Still deadly handsome and still incredibly<br />

delicious. He looks at me and this is not a good look. It’s<br />

not nice at all. Rather deadly. It’s kind of a lizard gaze. Although<br />

I turned my head away, I still feel the intensity of<br />

<strong>POST</strong> <strong>SCRIPTUM</strong><br />


this look. Because this is not just an innocent sweeping<br />

with eyes, I feel like I am being undressed and touched.<br />

And it’s not pleasant. There is some element of strangeness.<br />

My feeling is irrational, I cannot completely explain<br />

it, but I feel that something is definitely not right. Female<br />

intuition. I don’t believe it! I am really experiencing this!<br />

So, this is the thing! This is the secret weapon, this unique,<br />

animal, undefined, irrational ability to sense things!<br />

I look at him again. And once again, I see this impeccable<br />

body of a young, healthy, attractive male. And he is still<br />

staring, giving me goose bumps on the whole body, even<br />

my nipples hardened. But not pleasantly. Rather like two<br />

swords ready to attack. I feel anxious, and this is a concrete<br />

sign. Although everything is boiling inside me, I try<br />

to keep calm and think clearly. But what if I am wrong?<br />

Maybe all this is just my imagination? It’s probably stress.<br />

I’m too tense, need to relax a little. And why not to relax<br />

with him? Once again, I throw a look at this strong,<br />

beautifully sculpted male body. And suddenly I change my<br />

mind. And I am starting to think that it could be nice. After<br />

all he chose me, it was me who caught his attention, when<br />

around there are so many beautiful, eager and younger<br />

women. And he is delicious. And I am free. It could just be<br />

a coffee or a movie. All I want from him is some brain as I<br />

would not stand a cretin. A bit of intelligence, he doesn’t<br />

need to shine with erudition, nor to be a brilliant thinker.<br />

All I want is a nice, noncommittal conversation. It can<br />

even be about nothing. But it has to be interesting. And<br />

then we’ll go from there.<br />

I guess I fetched him with my thoughts. He walks towards<br />

me. Springily and confidently. This is a very beautiful walk,<br />

though a tad exaggerated, as if he played a part in a video.<br />

I’m smiling to myself. Egoistically and with satisfaction. He<br />

sits down on the sand next to me. On his forearm I spot<br />

a tattoo – a blue anchor. This is probably the symbol of<br />

seafarers? Maybe he previously sailed on commercial or<br />

passenger ships? He could be a very interesting man.<br />

‘And you are here all alone?’ – Well, that’s it! The air<br />

thinned, the hopes withed, the colours faded, the day got<br />

grey. A jerk, unfortunately... Stupid question from an idiot.<br />

You can see that I am alone you moron. His attractiveness<br />

has faded in the blink of the eye. Gone with the wind. Too<br />

bad... Such a disappointment. Actually, it was not only<br />

about the stupid question, but also about the expression<br />

on his face. And these eyes of the dead fish. No!<br />

‘Such a beautiful chick shouldn’t be alone’ – the lifeguard<br />

didn’t extinguish the smile on his lips, ‘I am finishing soon,<br />

coffee maybe? Or an ice-cream?’<br />

Oh Jesus! Seriously? Again, I feel this stare of a lizard. I’ve<br />

got an impression that in a moment he will throw a rolled<br />

tongue at me, wet, sticky and slimy and then without a<br />

blink of an eye, he’ll eat me munching. Brrr!<br />

8 <strong>POST</strong> <strong>SCRIPTUM</strong><br />

‘It’s nice of you, but unfortunately, I have plans for today.<br />

I’ve got an appointment. Tomorrow and the day after<br />

too. I am busy till the end of the summer actually.’ I said<br />

this a bit too fast but have no energy to play nicey-nicey.<br />

I am disappointed, angry at myself, feeling ashamed for<br />

my stupid thoughts and simply, I don’t want to waste my<br />

time. Then, I turn around lazily. The lifeguard throws one<br />

more lizardy look on my legs and embarks.<br />

Matylda is lying on her belly, her bra is undone, her<br />

back is burned and very red. If an egg was broken on it, it<br />

would easily turn into an omelette. Through my head go<br />

thoughts that after such an intensive sunbathing, in ten<br />

years, this beautiful body will turn into a wrinkled prune. I<br />

smile internally, there is a gentle burst of satisfaction, but<br />

I quickly pull myself together. I am thinking about the last<br />

few hours. How did it happen that in such a short time I<br />

managed to possess most of the feminine mysteries? I’m<br />

moving very easily around in this world, I feel it intuitively,<br />

I did not have to take any lessons, I didn’t need any<br />

instructions, everything took place naturally, without too<br />

much shock. It’s a big bonus because I thought I would<br />

have to learn my life again.<br />

The only thing I cannot cope with are the toilet issues.<br />

Stupid need for peeing grows into a serious problem.<br />

Guys just need to find a secluded place (or not such secluded),<br />

and then just do it. A woman needs a clean loo,<br />

wipes, running water, soap, etc. Well, right now I am in<br />

the centre of such problem. As I said, the beach toi-toi is<br />

out of question. I could go into the sea, but the thought of<br />

it gives me chills. I imagine those wild crowds; hundreds,<br />

thousands of women, men and children entering the<br />

water mainly to cultivate urine tourism, human swarms<br />

splashing in this warm, common soup – brrrr! So, I am<br />

back to the woods behind the dunes. But I have to get<br />

ready: need to remember to bring my handbag, cover my<br />

clothes and cosmetics with a towel, take wipes. My bladder<br />

hurts. Why am I always waiting till the very last minute?<br />

As if the need for peeing would go away. I put my feet<br />

in the flip-flops and rush towards the woods.<br />

A strong punch knocks me to the ground. I don’t understand<br />

what’s happening. Trying to get up, but I am<br />

tangled in the purse strap. I want to turn my head to see<br />

where it came from. My cheek pulsates, the hair stuck to<br />

my sweated face, I am trying to move it away and... there<br />

comes another punch. This time around the temple. My<br />

left eye feels like it’s going to explode. I cannot see who<br />

attacked me. It’s all happening behind my back. An arm is<br />

squeezing my neck. I am choking. I feel hot, accelerated<br />

breath on my neck. It smells of pickled cucumbers. The<br />

other hand goes on my thigh. It travels under my tunic:<br />

higher and higher. I still cannot see the attacker; all I see<br />

are trees and bushes in front of my eyes. Green. Careless.<br />

Will this be the last image of my life? I spot a tattoo on the

attacker’s forearm. A blue anchor. I want to scream, but the woods. But he waited patiently and finally got her.<br />

I can no longer bring out the voice, I cannot call for help, On July the seventeenth. No matter why he did it. Maybe<br />

he just likes the suffering of women. Maybe he is a<br />

I desperately try to grasp some air...<br />

freak, a sociopath, sadist. He strangled an innocent girl.<br />

charms and took a walk Now with him<br />

Matylda.<br />

to the woods,<br />

Me. Bastard!<br />

or maybe she<br />

just went there to pee? In any case,<br />

We<br />

he attacked<br />

are leaving<br />

her,<br />

the<br />

and<br />

room<br />

then<br />

one by one. Still sleepy, because<br />

he buried her body in the sand. He waited a bit longer for her<br />

and did it the day later. He waited like<br />

the<br />

a vulture.<br />

chemicals<br />

Circulated<br />

are yet circulating in our veins. We<br />

They woke us up the day before the end of the mission.<br />

On July 17th, in the the beach real world, toi-toi. in Or this someone world, scared way her and from our the eyes woods. meet. But And this face! She is... She is<br />

around her. It is possible that on the walk sixteenth like zombies. of July I she let used her go before me in the door-<br />

Matylda Krzemieńska vanished. waited We patiently were supposed and finally to got her. me! On It’s July the the feminine seventeenth. me, of course. I see it in her eyes.<br />

find out what happened No to matter her. I’m why in shock. he did Testosterone<br />

rush feels like a kick women. in the testicles. Maybe he I am is a bending. freak, a sociopath, sadist. He strangled<br />

it. Maybe he Eyes just of likes undetermined the suffering colour. of She also understands it. I<br />

dreamed her dream and she dreamed mine. This is how<br />

an innocent girl. Matylda. Me. Bastard!<br />

The policeman smiles with understanding. His eyes say, gender conversion is done. It turns into a cross-sleeping.<br />

The people behind us are trying to pass by. But<br />

‘I know what you feel, dude.’ He opens his mouth but<br />

says nothing about my testes. He looks at all the awakened,<br />

who are equally stunned like<br />

We are leaving the room one we by are one. still Still looking sleepy, at because each other with disbelief. I know<br />

the<br />

me.<br />

chemicals<br />

His voice<br />

are<br />

is loud<br />

yet circulating what she in feels our veins. right We now, walk because I know her body and<br />

and powerful:<br />

like zombies. I let her go mind. before me in the doorway<br />

and our eyes meet. Eyes of undetermined colour. And this face!<br />

‘The mission has finished! She Matylda is... She aged is me! 23 It’s was the found feminine I am me, feeling of course. a slight I see crump it in in the lower abdomen, and<br />

dead in the woods, five her eyes. hundred She also meters understands from the it. I maybe dreamed even her tingling dream between and she the legs. Pulsating, warm.<br />

beach. She was raped and dreamed strangled. mine. We This already is how have gender a She conversion probably is guessed done. It my turns reaction. Hypersensitivity of<br />

suspect who confessed into the a cross-sleeping. crime...’ The people behind<br />

the testicles,<br />

us are trying<br />

as if they<br />

to pass<br />

were<br />

by.<br />

gently stroked by her hand<br />

But we are still looking at each other with disbelief. I know what<br />

‘Lifeguard!’ – I say spontaneously. she feels right The now, policeman because got I know somewhere body and around mind. the prostate area. She got red, realizing<br />

the same thing as I did. I don’t know what to say,<br />

silent for a while, and then exchanged a look with a colleague.<br />

my thoughts are running like crazy. Somehow, we need<br />

I<br />

am feeling a slight crump in the to lower kill abdomen, the embarrassment and maybe with some conversation.<br />

‘The details of the case must even be kept tingling secret between at the the mo-legsment”, I hear hesitation in his ably voice, guessed “For the my sake reaction. of our Hypersensitivity tween us. That’s of the because testicles, of the mutual awareness of<br />

There Pulsating, is an intimate warm. She bond prob-<br />

that has been established be-<br />

investigation.’ as if they were gently stroked by her the hand physiology somewhere of our bodies. around And there is no time. Maybe<br />

three<br />

the prostate area. She got red, realizing the same thing as I did.<br />

I don’t know what to say, my thoughts are<br />

seconds,<br />

running like<br />

maybe<br />

crazy.<br />

five? When the seconds are<br />

‘Did he have a tattoo on his forearm?’, I asked, ‘a blue<br />

Somehow, we need to kill the embarrassment over, she will with turn some around conversation.<br />

There is an intimate bond has that a husband, has been children established or even a lover and a cat. I can<br />

and disappear. She probably<br />

anchor?’ The cop cringes, as if he got a kick in the nucleus.<br />

Not everyone believes in “sleepers” and in those<br />

between us. That’s because of the sense mutual that awareness she wants and of the doesn’t want to talk to me. I<br />

new investigative methods. physiology This one of probably our bodies. doesn’t And there know is no this. time. Maybe three<br />

and right now is experiencing seconds, a maybe cognitive five? dissonance. When the seconds are over, she will turn<br />

I know that I hit the right around spot. and I even disappear. know where She probably the What has a if husband, I did something children stupid? or Step forward and kiss<br />

body was, but I won’t tell even him. a lover It makes and a no cat. sense. I can The sense that she wants and doesn’t<br />

want to talk to me. I know this.<br />

her? The first and, perhaps, the last time? Touch her<br />

case is closed. This is the end. I now understand why lips with my mouth? Feel her breath? No. I immediately<br />

the killer has attacked me, not Matylda. Heisenberg’s give up this idea. It would be very awkward. Everybody<br />

Uncertainty Principle. The test affects the object being has left. There is only us, two policemen and a lab woman<br />

who the woke last time? us up, Touch injecting her something into our veins.<br />

What if I did something stupid? Step forward and kiss<br />

tested. I didn’t exist in the real world.<br />

her?<br />

He<br />

The<br />

wanted<br />

first<br />

Matylda,<br />

not me and it was her who he attacked lips with in the my woods. mouth? Feel Some her drug. breath? Like No. the I one imme-<br />

that we got to go to sleep. I<br />

and, perhaps,<br />

Maybe she was smitten diately by his give charms up this and idea. took a It walk would be know very we awkward. must leave. Everybody One of the policemen clears his<br />

with him to the woods, or has maybe left. There she just is only went us, there two to policemen throat, and giving a lab us woman the understanding who that we should go<br />

pee? In any case, he attacked woke us her, up, and injecting then something he buried into<br />

away.<br />

our veins. Some drug. Like<br />

her body in the sand. He<br />

the<br />

waited<br />

one that<br />

a bit<br />

we<br />

longer<br />

got<br />

for<br />

to go<br />

her<br />

to<br />

and<br />

sleep. I know we must leave. One<br />

of the policemen clears his throat, giving us the understanding<br />

did it the day later. He waited that we like should a vulture. go away. Circulated Then I feel her hand in mine. We go together<br />

that through on the sixteenth a glass door. of July We say Then nothing. I feel We her don’t hand need in mine. to. We go together through a<br />

around her. It is possible<br />

she used the beach toi-toi. Or someone scared her from glass door. We say nothing. We don’t need to. [PS]<br />

<strong>POST</strong> <strong>SCRIPTUM</strong><br />


My message<br />

is that people should look<br />

around more often and notice<br />

the ones who need help<br />

Which passion is closest to your<br />

heart? What motivates you and<br />

what calms you down?<br />

Painting and sculpture both give me<br />

joy, but only whilst writing I know that<br />

I am doing something important. Of<br />

course, I do love to put colours on canvas,<br />

get my hands dirty with clay, or to<br />

figure out the person whilst drawing<br />

his or her portrait. Books, however,<br />

take me on a more unusual journey: I<br />

can be any of the characters I create,<br />

so that I live many stories, I speak on<br />

the most important issues to me and<br />

it absorbs me, makes me feel fulfilled.<br />

When I look at your photos, I see<br />

a happy, confident, romantic optimist.<br />

Do you agree with this?<br />

I am far from being the optimist<br />

and even further from the romantic<br />

(laughs). In my novels I work on difficult,<br />

emotional topics such as: kidnapping<br />

children, disappearance of loved<br />

ones, domestic violence or complicated<br />

love between father and daughter.<br />

While working on such stories, I do a<br />

thorough research: I search for people<br />

who have similar experiences to<br />

the characters in my book, I work with<br />

the police, with psychologists. When<br />

talking to raped women or a boyfriend<br />

who lived in a violent home,<br />

it’s hard to be optimistic. Working<br />

with the police also opens my eyes<br />

to statistics on crimes and people disappearances<br />

in Poland. To keep my<br />

balance, I try to see beautiful things,<br />

I focus on them and I laugh a lot.<br />

You run creative writing courses<br />

for beginners. Is it easy to guide<br />

the participants so that they can<br />

learn how to use words?<br />

I come from a family of teachers, so<br />

I probably have it in my blood. My<br />

mother taught Latin, and my father<br />

was a tutor for troubled teens. Teaching<br />

creative writing is a great pleasure<br />

for me, I love to ignite students’ imagination,<br />

share my knowledge with<br />

them, turn their texts upside down<br />

and point out easier paths. When my<br />

advice leads to the creation of a good<br />

book or a story, I genuinely enjoy it.<br />

I must admit that I closely follow<br />

your business page on Facebook<br />

and I am pleased to see that you<br />

run creative writing workshops in<br />

libraries. How do young people<br />

react to your actions?<br />

Youth is fantastic. I already have experience<br />

working with teens, because I<br />

used to teach art in secondary school.<br />

Even then I was able to inspire them<br />

to be more creative. At that time very<br />

creative projects were made during<br />

our classes. Young people do come to<br />

the workshops ready for action, with<br />

open minds. Often, however, they are<br />

not convinced of their ideas or are<br />

embarrassed to talk about them in a<br />

group. I am working on making them<br />

aware that there is no such thing as<br />

‘bad ideas’, they can all be good if we<br />

work them out well. It’s nice to watch<br />

shy people break open, and at the end<br />

of the class their eyes shine because<br />

they’ve created something really cool.<br />

Do you like meetings with authors<br />

and book fairs, where you<br />

have direct contact with the<br />

reader?<br />

I love them! Meetings with my readers<br />

give me energy to create and<br />

help me believe that I’m following<br />

the right path. I had a few moments<br />

in the past when I wondered if what<br />

I was doing made sense, and it was<br />

the readers who helped me making<br />

the right decisions. At the book fair,<br />

you know, there is less time to talk<br />

to everyone, but I have made friends<br />

with my readers that last to this day.<br />

What makes you happy? What is<br />

happiness for you?<br />

Happiness is my family, which -<br />

thank God - is still intact. Happiness<br />

is travelling, which I try to do often,<br />

despite my very tight deadlines.<br />

And my books, I love to write them,<br />

so it makes me happy to hear that<br />

the readers are waiting for them.<br />

10 <strong>POST</strong> <strong>SCRIPTUM</strong>

Do you have your life motto that<br />

you follow?<br />

It will sound trivial: just do your job!<br />

What are you trying to tell your<br />

readers? What message can they<br />

find in your books?<br />

Each novel is on a different topic and<br />

each time is set in a different world.<br />

I would definitely like to speak on<br />

behalf of traumatised children, people<br />

who have been through a lot, or<br />

those who are excluded from society.<br />

My message is that people should<br />

look around more often and notice<br />

the ones who need help. However,<br />

I do not want my novels to be hard<br />

to read, so I dress up my stories<br />

in the form of a novel or a thriller.<br />

In what situations do you get<br />

inspired? Where do you get ideas<br />

from?<br />

I get ideas from the first pages of<br />

newspapers or from people I meet. It<br />

happened with the novel ‘’The One I<br />

Know’’, the story was born after I met<br />

a woman who was raped and decided<br />

not to tell anyone then. After many<br />

years it turned out that no one wanted<br />

to listen to her anymore. The novel<br />

‘’The Girl from the Mountains’’, so<br />

warmly received by the readers, (I am<br />

currently writing the second part of<br />

it), tells about a kidnapped child. That<br />

novel was born in my head long ago,<br />

when I watched an interview with<br />

Natascha Kampusch, a girl who was<br />

kept captive by a kidnapper for many<br />

years. When I’m hooked on the topic, I<br />

have no problems getting inspiration.<br />

Have you got a favourite place<br />

for writing or any habits in relation<br />

to your writing, e.g. drinking<br />

a cup of tea, playing background<br />

music, or you don’t mind?<br />

It happened to me that the action<br />

scenes in the youth novel ‘’Five Seconds<br />

To Io’’ were created with loud<br />

music in the background. However,<br />

I do prefer silence. Absolute silence.<br />

No radio, no background<br />

conversations and ... have mercy,<br />

my dear neighbours, I don’t really<br />

need any drilling either! (laughs).<br />

A cup of coffee is essential. Plus a<br />

laptop, my favourite desk and ...<br />

You love winter sports, right? You<br />

are great at skiing. Are there any<br />

other disciplines that interest<br />

you?<br />

Oh, this year for the first time I tried<br />

skiing with my writer friend Maria<br />

Zaczyńska and it was a great experience!<br />

At the same time, I already know<br />

for sure that skiing is not my thing.<br />

Hiking the mountains is something<br />

different - it’s a real pleasure. Recently,<br />

I was with my husband under the<br />

Olympus massif in Greece and I have<br />

to admit that the summit of Olympus,<br />

which we were not prepared to enter<br />

at the time, now is in my head instead<br />

of the charming Greek beaches.<br />

<strong>POST</strong> <strong>SCRIPTUM</strong><br />


What does Małgorzata Warda dream about?<br />

I want to achieve a peace of mind. From many things<br />

that bother me unnecessarily.<br />

Do you plan any tours? Is there a chance you’ll<br />

visit Łódź, where I live?<br />

I visited Łódź last year and I remember that those<br />

meetings were very nice. This year I will be wandering<br />

in Podlasie and the Pomorskie Voivodeship, I also<br />

plan to visit Kutno and Braniewo. There are more and<br />

more meetings planned so the year looks promising.<br />

I try to make every Christmas perfect, but the warmest<br />

Christmases were celebrated in my childhood. The<br />

world seen through the eyes of a child was full of magic<br />

and dazzles. I remember my grandmother, wearing<br />

an apron, setting the festive table. Mum and dad in the<br />

kitchen – so young, younger than I am today. I remember<br />

my sister – then a teenager, I see myself hastily finishing<br />

a chapter of a book in a hundred-page notebook. And I<br />

see our home: candle lights, Christmas tree, the atmosphere<br />

of waiting, the faith that magic will make gifts appear<br />

under the Christmas tree. I hope my daughter will<br />

have similar memories of her childhood Christmases.<br />

Thank you very much for the conversation and for<br />

your time. And I wish you, Małgorzata further successes<br />

in fulfilling all your passions. [EK]<br />

If you had the opportunity to decide<br />

on your screening book, which one<br />

would you choose and why?<br />

I would love to see ‘’The Girl From The<br />

Mountains’’ and the ‘’City Of Ice’’ on the<br />

big screen – these novels, in the opinion of<br />

many people, look like ready movie scripts.<br />

My dream would also be filming ‘’Five<br />

Seconds To Io’’, but I do not know if in Poland<br />

we have the technology and money<br />

required for such a large filming project.<br />

Tell me, please, what are you working<br />

on now? Maybe a Christmas book or<br />

a story?<br />

At the end of <strong>October</strong>, my newest<br />

novel for children, ‘’Sylvia And<br />

The Planet Of Three Suns’’, which I wrote<br />

in cooperation with my eleven-year-old<br />

daughter, will be published. This is a very<br />

important thing for me and I look forward<br />

to it, especially since the novel addresses a<br />

difficult topic. In December, I hope to finish<br />

the second volume of ‘’The Girl From The<br />

Mountains’’ and send it out to the world. In<br />

the near future, a fairy tale for children will<br />

be released, illustrated by a talented artist,<br />

Asia Grudnik. It was ordered by Gdynia<br />

City Hall and the story is about a beautiful<br />

monument standing on Kaszubski’s Square.<br />

Would you like to say a few words<br />

about your perfect Christmas? Which<br />

one would deserve the name and<br />

why?<br />

Ewelina Kwiatkowska who runs the blog Zaczytana<br />

Ewelka talked to the writer Małgorzata Warda<br />

12 <strong>POST</strong> <strong>SCRIPTUM</strong>

I would definitely like to speak on<br />

behalf of traumatised children,<br />

people who have been through a<br />

lot, or those who are excluded<br />

from society.<br />

<strong>POST</strong> <strong>SCRIPTUM</strong><br />


It was<br />

ABOUT<br />

THE<br />


ERA OF<br />


so recent<br />

Piotr Jastrzębski<br />

Piotr Jastrzębski<br />

14 <strong>POST</strong> <strong>SCRIPTUM</strong>

There was an ice age, post-glacial age, an old era,<br />

a new era, illiteracy, widespread reading and<br />

secondary illiteracy. Let’s imagine that a group<br />

of people are sitting at a table in a café, each with a<br />

nose in their books instead of a smartphone. Incredible,<br />

but not so long ago the world was just like that.<br />

The book was put away during the conversation only because<br />

it was difficult to focus on reading and talking at<br />

the same time. If it was possible, it would not surprise<br />

us that tourists in Venice riding on gondola, instead of<br />

admiring the surroundings, are browsing Facebook. If<br />

you could simultaneously read a book and admire the<br />

architecture, such pictures would not be bizarre. Only<br />

instead of paper books, they are replaced by eBooks.<br />

EBooks are only half of the trouble, the world is<br />

dominated by gossip portals, where people read<br />

only the titles and base their opinions on them. Despite<br />

the fact that the content is completely different.<br />

And when they are done with the world of celebrities,<br />

they go to Facebook or Instagram. Then they look up at<br />

the surroundings to choose the best place for selfies.<br />

So, this is the era of selfie. Before that there was an<br />

era of wall units furniture. The apartments in the<br />

blocks were almost identical. The same floor plan,<br />

similar mentioned wall units, the difference was only in<br />

the series of books resting on the shelves. Some of them<br />

were only “Tigers”, “BKD” (Battles, Campaigns of the Commander),<br />

or History in a nutshell, plus detective stories<br />

from the Key or Dachshund series, but above all in the<br />

main place, necessarily behind the glass, four-volume<br />

PWN encyclopedia. And “Polish History” in countless volumes.<br />

In some apartments, however, the choice was much<br />

wider, and the quantity of books outnumbered those that<br />

are now in municipal public libraries. Those apartments<br />

were a paradise for bookworms. Their owners collected<br />

books for years, and getting each position had its own<br />

story. That’s probably why most owners decided to sign<br />

them. Borrowing books was a ritual, an excuse to stop<br />

by for tea and talk about neighbors and about the book.<br />

It was possible to combine gossips with popular science<br />

literature, detective story or romance. But even where<br />

there were only Key series, or only “Tigers”,the owners<br />

really read them which is hard to believe. I know, I know<br />

it sounds stupid, but the average PRL man (who lived under<br />

the communist regime – translator’s note) had such<br />

broad general knowledge that he was able to talk on almost<br />

any topic without making too much factual mistakes.<br />

The idea for this text were forgotten books from before<br />

1990. That is, those published in the PRL, where<br />

some books were genuine pearls, and lowbrow literature<br />

also had its fans. Then the Harlequin romance<br />

books time arrived, and then the revolutionary invention<br />

called the Internet killed even those short love affairs.<br />

Let’s go back to reading bandwagon. Once there<br />

was something like that. People visited each other<br />

and exchanged information about what is currently<br />

on top. That’s how I met Cortazar or Marquez. There<br />

was a trend for Latin-American literature at the time<br />

and those who did not know “Hopscotch” or “One Hundred<br />

Years of Solitude” were not very socially attractive.<br />

The basis of a good novel is in its atmosphere. If it<br />

evokes emotions such as nostalgia, joy, sadness, anger,<br />

gloom, it’s a good novel. If it brings laughter - it’s very<br />

good. But if it can take us to the depth of its content,<br />

puts us closer to the characters described, it’s perfect.<br />

I<br />

remember only some snapshots from my holidays when I<br />

was young. At the age of fifteen, it wasn’t particularly important<br />

to me where I was going to. All you needed was<br />

a fairly clean lake or a piece of beach and a kiosk where I<br />

could buy “Youth’s World” magazine and other newspapers.<br />

It was not easy, because magazines weren’t available<br />

everywhere, but if the local kiosk had them in stock, I immediately<br />

‘set up a folder’ with them. Yes, they used to keep<br />

folders where the newsagent put away booked magazines.<br />

Then there was “Together” and, of course, “Reporter’s Express”<br />

magazines. The last item was rare because of the<br />

editing cycle. In popular weeklies, books’ episodes were<br />

printed, and their content and level of articles beat those<br />

printed today, even Kąkolewski. Despite the magazines,<br />

where both columns and reportages, as I mentioned, were<br />

engaging and exciting just like modern films, there was always<br />

a book sitting next to it on my table. It was not just<br />

any book, a book specially selected for the circumstances.<br />

So in the winter in Bieszczady Mountains I read “All the<br />

Brightness” of Stachura and “Next to Paradise” Hłaski;<br />

after returning to the city I choose Witkacy, but I sensed<br />

the falsehood of pre-war bohemia and fake exaltation.<br />

The only book of that time that exposed it to some<br />

extent was “The Last Bohemians” - I don’t remember<br />

the author.<br />

On those autumn evenings I read, in fact I still read<br />

it occasionally, “Luny w Bieszczadach’’ by Jan Gerhard.<br />

It may seem ridiculous, why I read a book<br />

that I already know by heart? Or even ‘books’, because<br />

there are more items to which I return at least once a year,<br />

but more on that later. I don’t really know, there is one<br />

sentence, phrase, a thought, which in itself, taken out of<br />

context, does not have such firepower as when reading a<br />

book, i.e. entering the atmosphere to get lost and become<br />

an active participant instead of a passive reader. Like Alice<br />

in Wonderland, When I open the book, I go to another<br />

world and get angry at anyone who brings me back from<br />

<strong>POST</strong> <strong>SCRIPTUM</strong><br />


there. Especially if it is “Bad” by Leopold Tyrmand, because<br />

I’m always there, ready for any threats, and full of adrenaline.<br />

So I can react impulsively before I realise that I am<br />

no longer at the kiosk of Juliusz Kolodent, waiting for the<br />

thugs with whom the tram driver is to kill the murders, but<br />

I am in my apartment and someone wants to tell me that<br />

he has a new smartphone application. How can you prevent<br />

me from waiting for the killers of Kuba Virus, a young<br />

journalist? I’m not a fan of detective stories as such, but<br />

the “Bad” mentioned above is a book that combines many<br />

genres, and its biggest advantage is that when I start reading<br />

it, I always get dressed appropriately for the weather<br />

and take a bat or other tool with me - of course in my imagination.<br />

The worst thing is when I find a fragment about<br />

how two friends open a gouda vodka bottle. I feel awkward<br />

as the third non-drinker. Similarly, reading Gerhard<br />

I put on shoes that are suitable for the mountain hiking,<br />

and with “All the Brightness” I buy cigarettes and tea. It’s<br />

a type of conscious schizophrenia that I also consciously<br />

feed. This is how books used to work. Pretty strong, isn’t<br />

it? Probably no game works so hard on the imagination.<br />

I<br />

only described a fraction of my favorite books from<br />

years ago. Although there were many more, they did not<br />

take my time and I did not read those at the expense of<br />

playing football, hiking in the mountains or long travels.<br />

Every time I opened the book, I opened the door and I entered.<br />

Many times, I could not accept that they have an<br />

end. One would like it to last forever and the world contained<br />

in them waited for me until I came back from reality.<br />

The PRL period was grey only for those who could not<br />

colour it with literature. Two public TV channels were<br />

not tempting us to watch a movie, so it was also a plus.<br />

Now I will tell you something that you probably won’t believe<br />

me. During lessons, classes or whilst doing my homework,<br />

I wrapped the book I was reading in the cover of the<br />

textbook so that everyone was convinced that I was studying.<br />

It used to be this way, probably these times will never<br />

come back. However, I must honestly admit, that while writing<br />

this text I moved back in time mid-eighties for a while.<br />

I<br />

wish today’s young generation to experience such<br />

impressions which are now so difficult to recreate.<br />

I won’t even mention reading books with a torch under<br />

the sheets or in the tent, because it’s time to start<br />

up the time machine and come back to send this text.<br />

Oh, and such a conclusion: most of the books of<br />

that time, even the most thrilling ones, would not<br />

have a chance to appear on the publishing market<br />

today. It is a pity, and I really feel sorry for the modern<br />

generation. At least we do have some memories...[PJ]<br />

16 <strong>POST</strong> <strong>SCRIPTUM</strong>

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POETRY<br />

***<br />

The rooms we live in they change<br />

how many furnishings crushes you one night<br />

reposition in bed moving a point cloud outside the window<br />

your body taken into consideration by someone<br />

who rules here introduces order by blurring the traces<br />

after past hugs laughs and separations<br />

when the tongue bleeds and can’t say what<br />

kind a bird is and where it flies carried away by the wind<br />

Organ donors<br />

The pastor at the pulpit<br />

said on Sunday:<br />

We are not giving up<br />

ambitious plans<br />

We will buy a new instrument<br />

Everyone, without the risk<br />

of life loss can become<br />

an organ donor<br />

18 <strong>POST</strong> <strong>SCRIPTUM</strong><br />

Barbara Gruszka-Zych<br />

translated by Andre Woz<br />

Marek Porąbka<br />

translated by Renata Cygan

***<br />

I got<br />

from you Mother<br />

a few life verities<br />

and I spent a long time<br />

unravelling them<br />

and started to understand<br />

what it means<br />

to be a person<br />

and to have a beautiful life<br />

until you were in hospital<br />

when it turned out<br />

that a person can consist of<br />

a name and surname<br />

and a list of diseases<br />

and to be a person<br />

as long as the machinery<br />

of intensive care allows<br />

later<br />

you can have a nice funeral<br />

and be a snapshot in memories<br />

and you know what Mother?<br />

the flowers on your window-sill<br />

are blooming with health<br />

Agnieszka Jarzębowska<br />

translated by Marek Marciniak<br />

Show me just<br />

one tear<br />

you tough man<br />

I asked<br />

let me know that<br />

it hurts<br />

moves<br />

makes happy<br />

makes sad<br />

harms<br />

Reverse<br />

SENT<br />

b y R EADERS<br />

you used to say: this is so difficult<br />

I now beg you<br />

show me dry eyes<br />

you tough man<br />

you say: this is so difficult<br />

Wanda Dusia Stańczak<br />

translater by Renata Cygan<br />

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I am I am a a Troubadour<br />

I don’t I don’t have have dreams dreams about about the the dead. dead.<br />

I don’t I don’t convoke convoke them. them.<br />

Let Let them them hang hang in the in the clouds, clouds, as happy as happy as white as white swans. swans.<br />

Sometimes Sometimes I am I am a troubadour. a troubadour.<br />

In my In my sleepless sleepless brain brain<br />

I go<br />

I<br />

through<br />

go through<br />

the<br />

the<br />

memories<br />

memories<br />

of those<br />

of those<br />

who<br />

who<br />

are<br />

are<br />

gone.<br />

gone.<br />

Although trying to keep my dreams completely clear,<br />

Although trying to keep my dreams completely clear,<br />

The dead are always with me.<br />

The dead are always with me.<br />

Through sorrow to tears.<br />

Through sorrow to tears.<br />

I don’t dream about the perished.<br />

Why I don’t to torment? dream about the perished.<br />

The Why emptiness to torment? is empty, see-through like a veil.<br />

Nothing The emptiness can fulfil it, is life empty, goes see-through on like a mourner. like a veil.<br />

With Nothing a spider’s can thread fulfil it, you life cannot goes on stitch like a the mourner. broken rail.<br />

With a spider’s thread you cannot stitch the broken rail.<br />

Renata Cygan<br />

Renata Cygan<br />

translated by Renata Cygan<br />

translated by Renata Cygan<br />

20 <strong>POST</strong> <strong>SCRIPTUM</strong>

Lone Instrumentalist<br />

Ghouls sit quietly in the front row,<br />

Coldness rolls over,<br />

Drizzly weather,<br />

Scent of matthiola and lavender,<br />

The piano shines like precious stones,<br />

Lethargic lighting slowly blinks,<br />

And among sounds as soft as feathers,<br />

Sits a lone instrumentalist.<br />

Some scary vampires,<br />

Ugly witchcrafts,<br />

And the ghosts dance in pantaloons.<br />

The stressed musician licks his dry lips,<br />

Surrounded by the noise and laughs.<br />

The sound gets tangled with the glee,<br />

The echo is wild,<br />

The hall is empty,<br />

But at the very end sits... she<br />

Nocturnes get louder<br />

calming the stress,<br />

The room gets lighter, her heart softens.<br />

His eyes meet hers in deepest darkness,<br />

She is wearing hopes and a silk dress.<br />

And when he sees her by the door,<br />

Suddenly feels so hugely blessed,<br />

‘Cause he’s got someone to play for...<br />

Renata Cygan<br />

translated by Jerry Umys and Renata Cygan<br />

She the Emigrant<br />

Casting myself into corners of the world;<br />

The same wind blows,<br />

The same moon rises now and then.<br />

I am floating in the midst of distant poles,<br />

Trying to settle down somewhere between them.<br />

A shrunken globe reveals unclosed gates,<br />

Exotic languages don’t scare me (nor new places).<br />

I collect colours,<br />

I absorb flavours,<br />

I read faces.<br />

Sometimes suddenly wicked fears afresh arrive,<br />

Throwing grains of sand into my tired eyes,<br />

The sorrow grabs me,<br />

Grief is taking a well known path,<br />

And it rocks me side to side like a sinking boat.<br />

The emptiness swells like a lump in my throat,<br />

To ascend the hills to cosy nests of storks.<br />

Open spaces still distort the right directions,<br />

The bread smells so different,<br />

I am becoming huffy.<br />

Growing fragile inside,<br />

Though the surface’s happy,<br />

Am I looking for enchanted dreams on crossroads?<br />

Separated by few rivers rocks and borders,<br />

Love my place so much.<br />

For everything,<br />

And nothing.<br />

Renata Cygan<br />

Translated by Jerry Umys and Renata Cygan<br />

<strong>POST</strong> <strong>SCRIPTUM</strong><br />


P O E T R Y<br />

POETRY<br />

POETRY<br />



In today’s poetic corner shines Marcin Korcbuch. I met Marcin in 2018, at a poetic meeting in Cracow – it was a promotional<br />

event of an anthology in which he participated. During the evening I listened to better and worse poems,<br />

but it was Marcin’s poetry, that straightened my back, touched me and intensified all senses. This was undoubtedly<br />

something else, another level, and it was a good thing. I congratulated him after the meeting, I said that he was<br />

the star of the evening and bought his latest volume “Spring Intensification”. Money well spent. Marcin Kurcbuch, despite<br />

his young age, already has his own style, extraordinary feeling for words, which he uses cleverly; he can play<br />

with them and is aware of their power. His poems touch a wide variety of issues, are full of lightness, maturity and<br />

empathy. He is not afraid of controversy, but although he likes using strong expressions, the final material is always<br />

very tasteful. Marcin, in his verses, clenches and releases, juggles and manipulates. He is chasing the bunny, to let<br />

him go into the woods. And that’s the point. I am looking for such things in poetry and I expect this from poets, and<br />

from artists in general. Nowadays, there is no certain fashion in poetry, there are no frameworks or trends, but unfortunately<br />

the overwhelming majority writes in the same manner, or at least very similarly. There is rarely a situation<br />

of sudden glare, a thunder or surprise. And in my opinion, that’s precisely what we have here. I can recommend<br />

Marcin’s poetry, because although he is still young, his writing is mature, thought through and has this special spark.<br />

Undoubtedly, it is still evolving, so there is a lot of potential, and something to wait for. And am waiting for more.<br />

Marcin Kurcbuch – a poet, Polish philologist, born in Łódź on 3/12/1990. He has written and published<br />

four books: Cleansing, I Am Watching, Operation Sky and Spring Intensification. A lover of psychology<br />

and its practical uses in life, leads his profile on Instagram. In addition, he is passionate about photography.<br />

Renata Cygan<br />

22 <strong>POST</strong> <strong>SCRIPTUM</strong>

Marcin Kurcbuch<br />

Universe<br />

My name is heaven<br />

I have everything that’s needed<br />

I am the moon and the sun<br />

Natalia Przy<br />

bysz<br />

I have a word so vast to fit all the planets<br />

In my eyes there is enough space to perceive<br />

every feeling<br />

and the stellar dust which remains after a<br />

human<br />

I have a head without borders<br />

flowing through it is the Milky Way<br />

I have implanted the sun and I love everyone<br />

with it<br />

History uncensored<br />

Adam tempted Eve<br />

you know<br />

with his penis,<br />

with testicles ripening in the Sun<br />

she did with apples<br />

which were not so keen to jump into the<br />

basket.<br />

the fruit in the mouth<br />

melodies sound<br />

when they fall into the ear<br />

seducing and rocking is their paradise<br />

rocking is Adam on the womb of Eve<br />

rocking is Eve on Adam’s chest<br />

rocking is their paradise<br />

the Earth also swings nervously<br />

strange tangerines bloom with time<br />

to the garden another snake will head on<br />

wrapping the dreams with nectar.<br />

mostly Earthlings. doesn’t matter that<br />

love burns<br />

because in six billion years I will breathe<br />

with the cold<br />

I will become a punitive God<br />

bloodthirsty at the birth of a star<br />

nothing will be beautiful but that’s fine<br />

After all, you – aesthetes of the pen<br />

lovers of movies<br />

art connoisseurs<br />

will be long gone<br />

when you smile<br />

when you smile<br />

the sun is rounding in me<br />

when I smile<br />

the tree in you is blooming faster<br />

share your smile<br />

give it to the city, village, bus top, the office<br />

let the bus not ride hungry<br />

there is a temptation at some point<br />

loins and arrows. of crossbow<br />

straight into the heart.<br />

<strong>POST</strong> <strong>SCRIPTUM</strong><br />


I am often asked, whether such gatherings<br />

of poets are useful, whether<br />

they serve a larger purpose (besides<br />

patting organizer’s and participant’s<br />

egos), whether they are needed at<br />

all. I personally think they are. At poetic<br />

festivals in Poland and abroad<br />

(often distant) I tend to be regularly.<br />

Have been for a good few years now.<br />

So, what do these meetings serve?<br />

Primarily it’s about presenting poetry<br />

in a different geographic dimension,<br />

sharing it with people (because we<br />

do not create just for ourselves), to<br />

absorb some exotic air, to exchange<br />

good energy. For me, most important<br />

are always people; new contacts,<br />

precious acquaintances, unexpected<br />

friendships. Because this is not about<br />

reciting one’s own poetry, but about<br />

interactions and integrations. Indeed,<br />

such meetings also often result in further<br />

artistic cooperation – we translate<br />

poems into different languages, we<br />

publish common volumes of poetry,<br />

anthologies, etc. And yet another important<br />

and serious matter – promot-<br />

24 <strong>POST</strong> <strong>SCRIPTUM</strong><br />

Festivals, rallies,<br />

poetic meeting<br />

Polish poetry beyond the borders<br />

of our country. It sounds like a mission,<br />

but I think it really is a kind of mission.<br />

I have known Rozalia Aleksandrova for<br />

many years. She has attended poetic<br />

festivals in London and Poland, our<br />

paths crossed here and there. I once<br />

received an invitation to the International<br />

Festival “Spirituality without<br />

Frontiers” in Plovdiv, Bulgaria. Spiritus<br />

Movens of this event is Rozalia.<br />

Rozalia is an employee of the Medical<br />

University of Plovdiv and belongs<br />

to a dynamic group of quantum poets.<br />

Yes, yes, I was also surprised.<br />

What is this quantum poetry creature?<br />

The process of shaping the<br />

idea of this poetic genre began in<br />

2003, and in March 2006 an informal<br />

group called “Quantum and<br />

Friends” was formed. It focuses on<br />

poets, physicist, musicians and artists.<br />

Quantum poetry, according to a<br />

very loose definition, is a poetry of<br />

the Spirit, poetry of angels, poetry<br />

of goodness, love and light. It is being<br />

born spontaneously at the very<br />

moment of the author’s unity with<br />

the universe. Because the physical<br />

universe is made up of pure energy,<br />

which can be transformed into another<br />

form of energy or matter, without<br />

any loss during transformation.<br />

The geographical place of the festival<br />

is not irrelevant, because Plovdiv<br />

has very interesting and rich history.<br />

This is one of the oldest cities in<br />

Europe (and some sources say that<br />

it’s the oldest), located among seven<br />

hills, and as we know, seven is a<br />

magical number. In addition - under<br />

the actual city, below the feet of passers-by,<br />

a few meters underground,<br />

there is an ancient city created by the<br />

Thracians, whose origins date back<br />

to six thousand years before Christ.<br />

This fact adds to the atmosphere<br />

and energy of this place, as well as<br />

to the quantum poetry itself, and art<br />

in general. You can literally feel the<br />

power of the ancient times, at the<br />

intersection of the present and the<br />

antiquity, the power of the ancient<br />

history of the Thracians and ancient

spirit. Probably Spartacus came from<br />

Thrace, there are Thracians in Homer’s<br />

poetry as the people allied with<br />

the Trojans and related to them.<br />

The inhabitants of Plovdiv cultivate<br />

the memory of the size of Thrace, and<br />

the Thracians who created the foundations<br />

for our Latin culture. In contact<br />

with ancient civilization, in Plovdiv<br />

we can touch the fragile remits of the<br />

ancient world. Add to this the narcotic<br />

aroma of linden and acacia, the stone<br />

streets of the old town, small cafes,<br />

roses bringing Bulgaria fame, and the<br />

friendly atmosphere, and the picture<br />

draws itself. In this environment, poetry<br />

is born, and in this environment,<br />

artists are formed and wading, magic<br />

is born there. On the curves of<br />

the sidewalks climb poems, the Sun<br />

smiles, pictures paint themselves,<br />

and cherries burst with sweetness.<br />

In <strong>2019</strong>, Plovdiv was awarded the title<br />

of European Capital of Culture in<br />

a duet with another thousand-year<br />

old town, Italian Matera. It also<br />

added some flavour and uniqueness<br />

to our poetic encounters.<br />

Individual events of this year’s festival<br />

“Spirituality without Frontiers”<br />

took place in some magical places:<br />

Festival Gala in the Centre of Culture<br />

Trakart, full of treasures from<br />

thousands of years ago, an extraordinary<br />

concert by Mihaella Stoikova<br />

and Samuil Genev (Oh my god! The<br />

Plovdiv <strong>2019</strong><br />

Spirituality<br />

without<br />

Frontiers<br />

way he played guitar!), In Belozem – an astonishing mecca of artists<br />

owned by Ganu Ganev Ghandi. I will not even try to describe with<br />

words the magic of this place, you must be there to feel it on your own<br />

skin. In such entourage we read poems, stunned by the uniqueness<br />

of places full of history, pictures and music, we integrate with Bulgarian<br />

poets and artists, being welcomed with extraordinary hospitality.<br />

I am glad I could be part of this unusual event. In this place I will you into<br />

a secret, because for me this year’s festival in Plovdiv was very special for<br />

one more reason – I received a beautiful statuette (created by a Plovdiv artist-sculptor<br />

Rangel Stoilow Bacho), the most important prize; Grand Prix of<br />

the festival “Spirituality Without Borders”. For my poems (which the quantum<br />

poets found to be quantum), translated into Bulgarian by Rozalia Aleksandrova<br />

and Teresa Moszczyńska-Lazarova (festival’s good Fairy), but also for many<br />

years of cooperation with preparations of the Festival Almanac. I designed<br />

covers and created illustrations. A great honour and a huge distinction.<br />

My next poetic trips are festivals in India, Russia and Poland.<br />

And next year, hopefully Plovdiv again, because there I get the<br />

Sun. Something to wait for, a reason to write new poems. [RC]<br />

Renata Cygan<br />

<strong>POST</strong> <strong>SCRIPTUM</strong><br />


26 <strong>POST</strong> <strong>SCRIPTUM</strong><br />

Visual Arts


<strong>POST</strong> <strong>SCRIPTUM</strong><br />


T here was a man once, his name was Copernicus. It’s his<br />

example that shows us that sometimes, it actually is the<br />

whole world that is wrong, and<br />

one person can<br />

that is wrong, and<br />

be right.<br />

28 <strong>POST</strong> <strong>SCRIPTUM</strong>

I did a lot to not become an<br />


artist<br />

an Interview<br />

Maja Borowicz is a painter, graphic designer, and an artist. She paints using<br />

the oil technique in the surreal trend, bordering between magical and emotional<br />

realism. All her works are created through combining imagination, talent,<br />

and traditional craftsmanship. In addition to perfect craftsmanship, the viewers<br />

can see a deep mysticism and emotion in her works in her works, which creates an<br />

impression of their souls being taken on a journey through time and space, where<br />

they can experience the story of the characters depicted.<br />

She has had many individual and collective exhibitions in Poland and abroad. She<br />

has received prizes in numerous international art competitions, including Art Revolution<br />

Taipei 2014 in Taiwan and Spectrum Miami 2018, USA.<br />

<strong>POST</strong> <strong>SCRIPTUM</strong><br />


I must admit, it was very important<br />

to me to have you with us today. I<br />

carry images within me, which I try<br />

to paint with words. Some of your art<br />

pieces are what I carry in my heart<br />

and mind. You miraculously found<br />

those images and brought them to<br />

life. Please accept my sincere respect<br />

and admiration for your talent<br />

and sensitivity the nature gave you.<br />

Thank you for the invitation and the<br />

appreciation. But I don’t think I have<br />

any special talents. Because what<br />

is talent? As you have written in the<br />

past, and I think very similarly – it’s a<br />

vector composed of small traits, such<br />

as patience, way of thinking, manual<br />

skills, and maybe the sensitivity you<br />

mentioned. My sensitivity is like a<br />

tsunami. It comes, slowly traversing<br />

the seas and oceans, gain speed and<br />

height, until they destroy everything<br />

in their way once they reach the<br />

shore. There’s no man-made dam<br />

that can stop a tsunami… And I don’t<br />

have one either. This sensitivity can be<br />

30 <strong>POST</strong> <strong>SCRIPTUM</strong><br />

a gift and a curse. Those are the traits<br />

Nature gave me, but it’s the hostility<br />

of the world around me that caused<br />

it to manifest in such a way, and I’m<br />

not surprised that my works mirror<br />

what you carry in yourself. Fate has<br />

decided to throw us into a place that’s<br />

similar both culturally and historically.<br />

I often experienced the works of artists<br />

from different corners from the<br />

world and I concluded that the creators<br />

from our own cultural circle have<br />

an exceptional sensitivity and a skill<br />

to creating symbols, figuring out and<br />

telling outstanding stories. The only<br />

problem is, we don’t really fall into the<br />

international trends with our unusual<br />

messages. Having said that, I say “it<br />

happens, I can’t do it differently, what<br />

can I do about the whole world being<br />

wrong...” There was a man once, his<br />

name was Copernicus. It’s his example<br />

that shows us that sometimes,<br />

it actually is the whole world that is<br />

wrong, and one person can be right.<br />

I wouldn’t go that far with Copernicus.<br />

Even ancient Greeks and some<br />

earlier civilizations knew the things<br />

Copernicus stated thousands of years<br />

later. Epicurus wrote in his letters to<br />

Herodotus (4 centuries before Christ)<br />

about the infinite universe. For our<br />

astronomer from Toruń, the universe<br />

started and ended with the Solar<br />

System. But it’s true, Copernicus had<br />

the courage to go against the mainstream<br />

that was in force at the time.<br />

You received so many international<br />

prizes that it’s hard to list them all.<br />

Which one of them would you say is<br />

the most important to you?<br />

That’s right, it’s quite a bunch. The<br />

most important one is the one that<br />

made people see my works. That was<br />

Art Revolution Taipei, in Taiwan, 2014.<br />

First time I have publicly shown what<br />

I paint, and to my surprise, people<br />

liked it. Up until then, I was convinced<br />

that I’m not creating anything great,<br />

everyone could think of it and paint<br />

it. That moment was unique, it turned<br />

my life 180 degrees. Earlier, I did a lot<br />

in order to never become an artist,

and people and events surrounding<br />

me cemented my view that being an<br />

artist isn’t a good way. Artists are peculiar,<br />

can’t deal with life, you need to<br />

have a steady job and build a family!<br />

I wasted the better half of my life on<br />

that, and I got nothing out of it. From<br />

the perspective of time, I can say that<br />

I was going against Nature. Seeing<br />

main streets of multi-million Taipei<br />

decorated with flags with my painting<br />

on them, posters, billboards, people<br />

touched by my works, waiting in line<br />

for an autograph, I had to admit to<br />

myself that I am an artist. This was a<br />

huge twist in my life, one that gave<br />

me a feeling of freedom. I stopped<br />

trying to fit the norms, started asking<br />

difficult questions and rejecting things<br />

forced upon anyone by anyone. Additionally,<br />

I had a chance to experience<br />

the Taiwanese culture. It was such a<br />

high culture that I was astounded. I<br />

admired that. It was like a breath of<br />

fresh ocean breeze – I suddenly understood,<br />

that my previous knowledge<br />

of the world is nothing. From<br />

then on, I started to meet completely<br />

different people than ever before in<br />

my life. I felt like a freshwater fish that<br />

has just been removed from a salty<br />

ocean and put into a Masurian lake.<br />

On your website, you have written<br />

that Nature hasn’t given only given<br />

you good things. As it usually is<br />

with Nature, it can be nasty. What<br />

can you say about your condition?<br />

Is Nature nasty? I wouldn’t say it like<br />

that. People can be nasty, not Nature.<br />

Nature is… accidental, but its intentions<br />

are pure. Nature tries different<br />

forms and combinations to survive. A<br />

conversation about my conditions and<br />

my life would take up a whole book. I<br />

won’t go on about every time I heard<br />

a diagnosis and how they influenced<br />

my life. Though that influence was<br />

extreme. One of the most important<br />

things I got from Nature is my hereditary<br />

gluten intolerance. However,<br />

because I was born in the dark backwards<br />

times, no one could diagnose<br />

it. So I got to know life from the side<br />

of hospitals, clinic, sanatoriums, pain<br />

and constant health problems. If we<br />

add times of socialism and changes<br />

after 1989 to that, meaning unskilled<br />

doctors that demanded money, hospitals<br />

and sanatoriums looking more<br />

like prisons than institutions created<br />

to save children lives – that’s how you<br />

get a scenario for a good film drama.<br />

If it wasn’t for the fact that we’re talking<br />

about my life, maybe I would be<br />

<strong>POST</strong> <strong>SCRIPTUM</strong><br />


happy to watch that film. Sometimes<br />

I laugh and say that I’m just another<br />

link of evolution between man and<br />

something that lies in the future. My<br />

organism treats gluten like arsenic,<br />

like a poison, even in trace amounts.<br />

Most people don’t know that currently,<br />

gluten (that is, particles of wheat<br />

flour) is added to almost everything<br />

as an “improver”, e.g. cheese, jellies,<br />

juices, sausages, spices, etc. Therefore,<br />

I am forced to discard almost<br />

all products that can be found on supermarket<br />

shelves, so I will definitely<br />

not allow food companies to get me.<br />

These days, when apparently every<br />

good is available, such restrictions<br />

teach you to be humble. I discovered<br />

that I eat to survive, not live to eat. I<br />

also discovered that equality and justice<br />

don’t exist. And that the only right<br />

and best way I to accept responsibility<br />

for yourself and your actions. My<br />

needs are so unusual and individual,<br />

that there is no welfare program that<br />

I could be bought with. I’m proud of<br />

that. I also know that it’s people (and<br />

not Nature) who put me through so<br />

many bad experiences and put so<br />

many weird labels on me that it’s hard<br />

to count them all. I spent most of my<br />

life in therapy, learning to look at the<br />

word through eyes of others. I took<br />

that to heart, often gaining admiration<br />

for my personality, as if I was the<br />

most normal person in the world, with<br />

whom everyone wants to be friends!<br />

It always amuses me, because I don’t<br />

know anyone with a bigger mental<br />

healthcare baggage than myself.<br />

A while ago, we talked about your<br />

way into professional painting not<br />

being the easiest. Have you ever<br />

tried to get any grants from the<br />

Ministry of Culture?<br />

My way to painting professionally<br />

started rather early, when my application<br />

to an art high school was rejected.<br />

Then I understood that being an<br />

artist is more than just talent. It’s an<br />

art of fulfilling certain social roles, the<br />

ability to fit into certain frames. I also<br />

understood that I would not be part of<br />

this framework, and thus understood<br />

that I would never be an artist. Then<br />

I did everything not to become one.<br />

32 <strong>POST</strong> <strong>SCRIPTUM</strong><br />

And I almost succeeded. Were it not<br />

for that one day in 2014 when recipients<br />

loved my paintings. And here<br />

is one of the things that I will never<br />

understand in society - many people<br />

give me support, they want to see my<br />

work, they want me to paint. But on<br />

the other hand, we’ve created a society<br />

system that rejects individuals like<br />

me. We are rejected using our hardearned<br />

taxes, which means we are our<br />

own sponsors. The fact that people<br />

are rejected, segregated and written<br />

off; this is incomprehensible to me, it<br />

just does not work! Yes. I have been<br />

looking for support in the system for<br />

my artistic activities many times. Especially<br />

when winning competitions<br />

or in contact with other artists and organizations.<br />

Both at the local and the

highest level (I mean the President of<br />

the Republic of Poland). Regardless of<br />

the awards, exhibitions and quality I<br />

create, I have never received support<br />

from any state institution dedicated<br />

to artistic activities, and there have<br />

been at least a dozen or so attempts.<br />

This taught me that the only value is<br />

support from individuals and individual<br />

initiatives. For example, I have a<br />

friendly Foundation called Your Heritage,<br />

which deals with the unique<br />

Polish Culture and which supports<br />

me whenever possible. I also have a<br />

growing group of collectors, gallery<br />

owners and recipients who also show<br />

me great support. In this way I understood<br />

that individual people are more<br />

important than the institutions that<br />

we are forced to sponsor through taxes.<br />

And I wish that in the future our<br />

money used to sponsor these institutions<br />

would remain in our pockets.<br />

I believe in the wisdom and freedom<br />

of people. I believe that the recipients<br />

themselves know what they like, what<br />

they want to read and watch and<br />

do not need any top-down institutions<br />

to show them what they should<br />

admire and what they shouldn’t.<br />

<strong>POST</strong> <strong>SCRIPTUM</strong><br />


Before I sit down to write, I often set up scenes in my<br />

head. They come to me by themselves, I just try to remember<br />

and describe them. How is it for you?<br />

I think it’s similar, though I don’t need to describe them.<br />

There is a theory concerning how every one of us sees the<br />

world. Some people “see” it with words, others through<br />

images, and others as a series of connected events, and<br />

others through what they hear, etc. I see everything as an<br />

image. When I feel anger, I see an image in my head. For<br />

example when I see the written word: “horse”, I immediately<br />

see a picture of a horse in my head – without that,<br />

the word doesn’t mean anything. So my head is filled with<br />

images, my mind is filled with photos and illustrations for<br />

everything. As you say, they come on their own. But I don’t<br />

need to describe them anymore. What I have to do is get<br />

them out into the light through painting… and that’s when<br />

it clashes with reality, because I still consider my skills to<br />

weak to truly reflect what I see in my head. I think that<br />

you said something similar about your creations. I accept<br />

that with humility and I’m still learning how to improve.<br />

In addition to traditional oil painting, you also try other<br />

techniques. What is Giclee?<br />

Giclee is not a special technique. In a nutshell, it consists<br />

of reproducing the image on canvas with pigment paints<br />

using a suitable plotter. Artists use this method mostly<br />

to obtain limited series of prints of their paintings.<br />

It’s primarily the business of specialized printing shops.<br />

What occupied and occupies me among all traditional<br />

techniques were my most beloved pencil or ink sketches,<br />

oily pastels and acrylic airbrush painting, allowing for perfect<br />

tonal transitions. However, I had the pleasure of working<br />

on animated and feature films. This is the real space<br />

for new techniques! To work on films, I had to learn to use<br />

specialized tools such as: Wacom graphics tablet and complex<br />

programs for drawing, modeling, generating special<br />

effects, assembling and animating drawings in recordings,<br />

etc. The world of film and what is created there to delight<br />

the viewer is such an adventure! But to participate in it you<br />

need to have a huge imagination, see the images before<br />

they appear on the screen, have an experienced eye and<br />

an equally experienced hand, and know how to use specialized<br />

programs that only people from the industry know<br />

about. Now this is what you can call “another technique”.<br />

of art is to play the most sensitive strings of the receiving<br />

person’s feelings so that they remember what they<br />

have read or watched, hopefully for the rest of their<br />

lives. In the times we live in, people think that we remember<br />

the shocking. So, everyone tries to shock: advertisements,<br />

headlines, so-called celebrities. So shocking<br />

is the set way that most people are used to. But<br />

the world keeps going forward. If you ask me, we need<br />

something more to truly touch human hearts and minds.<br />

And as to “painting” with your own blood or excrement,<br />

that’s nothing out of the ordinary. People have been doing<br />

so for thousands of years, since prehistoric times,<br />

our planet is overfilling with blood spilled in one way or<br />

the other, similarly to our excrement. But our wise ancestors<br />

never had to call it art. On my way to my work I<br />

met several people who pointed me towards some things.<br />

One of them is such truth: “Never create something that<br />

can be done by someone else and never create something<br />

that has been long created”. That’s what I steer<br />

myself with, because I can see that it’s worth something<br />

– why should I use my own blood to paint if anyone can<br />

do it, and people have done so for thousands of years?<br />

There’s a lot of similar examples around the world. I<br />

try to stand on the sidelines and always ask myself the<br />

question: “Why is this person doing what they’re doing?”<br />

If a creator can only say one thing about their<br />

art, that they “want to be shocking”, that’s not an answer<br />

– that’s something a director of a cheap ad might<br />

say, but not from a creator that aspires to be among<br />

names such as Michelangelo or Leonardo da Vinci.<br />

I don’t think<br />

There are painters who use their own blood or excrement<br />

in painting, to shock the viewer. What could<br />

Maja Borowicz do to shock? Is it worth it to choose that<br />

path? Art should shock, but should it do so at all costs?<br />

I don’t think art should shock. I thought about that a lot (I<br />

always think about everything a lot, I analyze, and I think<br />

that’s the only proper approach to things) and I reached<br />

the conclusion that the role of art isn’t to shock. Its role<br />

is to speak about things that are important and relevant,<br />

to make the viewer stop for a while and think. The role<br />

34 <strong>POST</strong> <strong>SCRIPTUM</strong>

So, I don’t try to be shocking, I don’t aim to supply cheap entertainment.<br />

My thoughts and my life are too precious for<br />

me to be wasted on such things. I try to create a safe space<br />

for me and my viewers, one that we can use to live and<br />

discover the basic, but most important values in our lives.<br />

There are ideas which I don’t let out into the daylight,<br />

for example the second part of the Sumerians story,<br />

that would show their approach to erotica in detail.<br />

Do you have some sort of image in your head that you<br />

don’t have the courage to paint?<br />

think it’s a very difficult challenge, because our times don’t<br />

allow for rebellion, anger, or aggression. And they’re normal,<br />

human feelings, that also need a space for expression.<br />

We got lost in tolerating everything so much that we are<br />

ashamed of admitting difficult feelings, because we fear<br />

they might offend someone, and we’ll be socially branded.<br />

Creating a beautiful safe harbor for such feelings and emotions<br />

of the viewer is a huge challenge for me, one I don’t<br />

know if I’ll be able to conquer. By the way, I wouldn’t consider<br />

erotics something abnormal, or something people don’t<br />

know, something that should be feared, quite the opposite.<br />

Beautiful eroticism is art. Maybe art lies in threading the<br />

fine line between eroticism and just normal sex, and here<br />

I’ll agree that it can be a huge challenge for the creator.<br />

Yes, I do carry images with me that I haven’t painted, and<br />

I don’t know if I’ll ever paint. But it’s not a matter of courage,<br />

but of the fact that I haven’t yet found the best form to<br />

convey them. For example: I have images in my head that<br />

show difficult feelings of frustration or anger. But they’re<br />

banal. I have yet to find a way to show those feelings in a<br />

sophisticated, wise and non-obvious way. So, I’m far from<br />

painting them. It ties into our conversation just a moment<br />

ago – it’s not art to just splash some red blood onto the<br />

canvas when you feel frustrated in a given moment. Art is<br />

putting it in a form that will make viewers unable to take<br />

their eyes from the result, despite the dread they feel. So<br />

that, when they look at it, they can feel those hard feelings<br />

in a safe way. So that it doesn’t urge them to do wrong but<br />

that they see that they’re not alone in those feeling, that<br />

everyone has the right to feel and that there exists a safe<br />

space, an allowance to experience them in a beautiful way,<br />

without hurt, without shock and without being offensive. I<br />

art should shock<br />

Who is Mara Borowicz in her private life? I apologize,<br />

but our readers would kill me if I skipped this question.<br />

What would you see in an ideal partner? Aside from the<br />

main requirement of toughness.<br />

Heh! A great question, one I’ve been trying to answer… for<br />

the last 30 years or so. I think that my privacy only matters<br />

when it impacts my art. So, it matters a lot. There<br />

wouldn’t be paintings without my private experiences.<br />

Every day, I’m just a normal human being, but one that<br />

fails to fit the social norms. Through most of my life, I attempted<br />

being normal, to fit into groups, institutions, do<br />

full time job, have friends, a house, a family, etc. But that<br />

road only led to despair and breakdowns. For a long time<br />

I couldn’t understand why I’m trying so hard and nothing<br />

works out. And one day, just after winning that competition<br />

in Taiwan, I thought that maybe I’m simply not normal<br />

and that’s why normal doesn’t work out. Simple as that.<br />

When I let those thoughts in, it just so happened that I<br />

met my husband, who is undoubtedly (horror!) an artist,<br />

and an exceptional person that can understand me like<br />

none other. He’s my ideal and my best friend. He doesn’t<br />

require me to be a mother, a cook, a maid, beautiful,<br />

or normal. And whenever I need, he patiently explains<br />

everything I don’t understand. I never required him to<br />

be “tough”, and as an experienced man, he carries a lot<br />

of scars within himself, exactly like the characters I paint.<br />

How long does it take you to paint something? Does it depend<br />

on the motivation, or do you simply have it in your<br />

blood, and you can paint wonders like the one on the side<br />

here even in the middle of the night? I heard that customers<br />

might wait a long time for one of your paintings.<br />

“Motivation is a sudden feeling of inspiration and an urge to<br />

create something” - following that definition, it’s different<br />

for me. Of course, as a child I always had the urge to draw.<br />

It did come suddenly, I painted and drew everything, with<br />

different methods: people, animals, still life, flowers, architecture,<br />

etc. It was the worst while in school, during class,<br />

because drawing completely cut me off from the surroundings,<br />

always and everywhere. I couldn’t control it. But with<br />

time, I started to prioritize and build a hierarchy of things<br />

that are more and less important. I taught myself to analyze,<br />

to make conscious choices, and take responsibility for such<br />

choices. Which, in part, let me create a sort of system that<br />

allows me to verify what I should spend time on painting.<br />

I carry images in my mind that I look at, I analyze their emotions<br />

and message. I judge them strictly – do they have<br />

enough value to show them to the world? If the answer is<br />

“yes”, I calmly accept the role of a craftswoman that works<br />

day after day, creating an image of an artist’s mind. And, as<br />

this craftswoman, I need to sleep at night in order to work<br />

at day. One painting takes from 4 to 8 weeks, depending<br />

on the size, the theme, etc. It’s hard to find a compromise<br />

between the craftswoman and the artist that always<br />

yearns for perfections, despite lacking perfect work tools.<br />

And if you got an order from, let’s say, Vatican City,<br />

<strong>POST</strong> <strong>SCRIPTUM</strong><br />


would you paint a religious picture? Michelangelo<br />

wouldn’t have been famous if it wasn’t for sacred<br />

art. And many wonderful artists have been forgotten,<br />

because they wanted to be faithful to themselves only.<br />

What’s your viewpoint on compromising between art<br />

and sponsoring? Would you create to appease a government,<br />

like for example Majakowski?<br />

Haha! Certain sources told me, that I already created religious<br />

paintings. Which, obviously, shocked me slightly,<br />

because it was never my intention. But I humbly accept interpretations<br />

of the viewers. But I understand that through<br />

your question, you meant working as a commission artist,<br />

and not just religion. I generally try to avoid that. Usually,<br />

when I let my mind generate visions of what I want to paint,<br />

the work goes quicker and easier. But I also find time and<br />

space for a bit of compromise that the other side must agree<br />

to as well. Though maybe compromise isn’t the right word,<br />

because in a compromise, both sides sacrifice something,<br />

and both are unhappy with the result. There’s no place for<br />

that here. That’s why I would call it certain limits. I state<br />

what I can agree to within the limits of my painting, and the<br />

commissioner either agrees or doesn’t. Those are clear and<br />

fair rules. Limits don’t require anyone to sacrifice anything.<br />

Would I create to appease authorities? (laughter) For<br />

me, it’s the individual people who count: art merchants,<br />

collectors, private initiatives, like the aforementioned<br />

foundation, who exchange their time and work for my<br />

images, give me living space, as well as all those people<br />

who want to hang my works on a wall or come to a gallery<br />

to see them. It’s those people who deserve my respect<br />

and every stroke of a brush on my paintings. But<br />

I can’t even appease them. I create in harmony with<br />

my own soul. The fact that sometimes I happen to conquer<br />

their hearts is just a happy bonus coincidence.<br />

I think it’s more often than just “sometimes”, Maja.<br />

Thank you for this conversation.<br />

I thank you as well<br />

[JP]<br />

This inter view with Maja Borowicz was conducted by<br />

Jarosław Prusiński<br />

36 <strong>POST</strong> <strong>SCRIPTUM</strong>

Selected exhibitions and awards:<br />

12.2018 - Exhibition and distinction, The best of the Show - Expo Spectrum Miami, USA;<br />

05.2018 - Collective exhibition, J. Malczewski Museum in Radom, Poland;<br />

04.2018 - 1st place in the international Artavita competition, USA;<br />

12.2017 - Collective exhibition, European Parliament, Brussels, Belgium;<br />

12.2017 - Palm Art Award 2017 - Certificate of Exellence, Germany;<br />

09.2017 - “The Last Sparks of Hope” - 1st place in the Futurism category, “Counted time” - 1st place in<br />

the Surrealism category, American Art Award, “Sensitivity of destiny” - 2nd place in the Male category,<br />

American Art Award, Hollywood, USA;<br />

07.2017 - “Counted time” - 3rd place in the “Femininity” international art competition, Toronto, Canada;<br />

09.2016 - Individual exhibition, Fantasy Festival of the Fortress in Giżycko, Poland;<br />

06.2016 - Individual exhibition, International Fantasy Festival in Nidzica, Poland;<br />

05.2016 - “Kuźnia” - 1st place in the international art competition “All scapes”, Toronto, Canada;<br />

04.2016 – Collective exhibition at the international “Expo Art New York”, USA;<br />

10.2015 - Distinction, international competition “Mind, Spirit & Emotion II”, USA;<br />

05.2015 - Collective exhibition at the international “Expo Art Revolution Taipei”, Taiwan;<br />

04.2014 - 1st place and group exhibition at the international Art Competition Revolution Taipei, Taiwan;<br />

<strong>POST</strong> <strong>SCRIPTUM</strong> 37

38 <strong>POST</strong> <strong>SCRIPTUM</strong>

O<br />

Ewa Ćwikła<br />

riginally from Poland, but from the early eighties living and working in the Netherlands.<br />

Her earliest experience with photography dates to teenage years when she lived in Poland.<br />

At the age of 15, the old Zenith camera found in the house allowed her to experimenting during a<br />

school photographic course. That’s how, slowly, she has developed her vision of photography.<br />

When Ewa was 22 years old she moved from Poland to the Netherlands, where she<br />

started working at a photography shop in Schagen. In 1985, after three sleepless nights<br />

she made a decision to buy shop and photography studio from a local photographer.<br />

During the following years, Ewa perfected her skills and became an extraordinary<br />

photographer. In 2014 she ended her commercial activity and focused exclusively<br />

on work in the studio and the artistic photography. Since 2015, 90% of her photos are<br />

creative photography, and 10% are portrait orders for individuals. Ewa focuses primarily<br />

on imaginative work – work in its unique style and its own exceptional atmosphere.<br />

<strong>POST</strong> <strong>SCRIPTUM</strong><br />


40 <strong>POST</strong> <strong>SCRIPTUM</strong>

Hello Ewa, I recently discovered your style. I was captivated<br />

by the climate of your photographs and wanted to<br />

introduce it to our readers. To start with, please tell us<br />

where your love for photography came from? And when<br />

did you start your adventure with artistic photography?<br />

In 2014 I decided to abandon the commerce<br />

and stop selling cameras. I closed the shop and said to<br />

myself “I’m just doing photographs for me.” Now 90%<br />

of my creations are for me and only 10% are orders for<br />

clients. And it gives me huge pleasure. I can’t imagine<br />

working without people, I must contact them every<br />

day. I would like to be non-stop with people in the studio<br />

– it’s a feast for me! I really like to do it. I have tons<br />

of unfinished ideas. I am now reading Leonardo da Vinci’s<br />

biography, he also had 20 projects started at once.<br />

Why is portrait the main theme of your work? What<br />

inspires you, body or soul?<br />

When I see the model, the main inspiration is their<br />

look, the appearance. But when I start taking pictures, I deal<br />

more with the soul. It never happened that I fulfilled exactly<br />

what I had planned. Unless the model comes for the second<br />

<strong>POST</strong> <strong>SCRIPTUM</strong><br />


I have been photographing for 25 years,<br />

but only when I discovered the light of<br />

Rembrandt and Vermeer<br />

I began to feel “at home”.<br />

time, then I already feel their energy. For me, everything is<br />

done at the level of feelings, not just vision. It is very hard<br />

sometimes because the models come in different mental<br />

states... And I feel it. Because of that, there is a close contact<br />

between the me and the model, and that’s why my portraits<br />

have a soul. Because this soul is present when these<br />

pictures are taken. So ultimately, I’m inspired by the soul.<br />

Your photographs are like 17TH-century paintings by<br />

the Dutch masters, Vermeer<br />

and Rembrandt. Does choosing such a style have any<br />

connection with the fact that you live and create in the<br />

Netherlands?<br />

I have been photographing for 25 years, but only<br />

when I discovered the light of Rembrandt and Vermeer I<br />

began to feel “at home”. When I look at my photographs<br />

from the past, from the time perspective I see that it was a<br />

commercial photograph. I am glad that my clients liked my<br />

work and were delighted with the pictures, but only now,<br />

when I stopped the commercial and started creating photographs<br />

with the light of Rembrandt and Vermeer I feel fully<br />

satisfied. When I look at the model in my studio I see every<br />

piece of light, all the details. And it is incredibly beautiful<br />

to me. The fact that I live in the Netherlands may only have<br />

the meaning that I have come to the painting of Dutch Masters<br />

more quickly. But I also dream of taking photographs<br />

in the style of Jan Matejko. I really want to do it. Recently I<br />

received a book from Sophie Weiss about paintings of her<br />

grandfather, Wojciech Weiss. His work is so beautiful! As<br />

soon as I finish what I am currently working on, I will concentrate<br />

on Wojciech Weiss’ paintings. So... I do not know<br />

if living in the Netherlands has an influence on my art. I do<br />

not know what would have happened if I lived in Poland.<br />

42 <strong>POST</strong> <strong>SCRIPTUM</strong>

How long have you been living in the Netherlands? How<br />

did you come to move there? Does the atmosphere of<br />

that country, in your opinion, help to create works of<br />

art?<br />

I’ve been living in the Netherlands for 33 years…<br />

a long time. I left Poland in search of a better life. If someone<br />

told me to do it again, I wouldn’t have, as it was really<br />

hard. But I’m in the Netherlands and I’m happy here. I<br />

love this nation. I feel free here and I have a lot of friends.<br />

But I also feel good when I’m in Poland. I think that the<br />

work a person creates is not connected to the country of<br />

residence. The Netherlands surely helped me to be freer<br />

and more independent. Dutch people are very direct,<br />

and so am I. That’s how I always was, and it wasn’t well<br />

received in Poland. Here, that’s normal, and I feel in my<br />

element here. I can speak my mind, though of course I’m<br />

still careful to not be impolite and not to hurt anyone.<br />

Does the atmosphere of this country help in creating<br />

art? I don’t know. I don’t think it matters. I feel like<br />

there’s many more wonderful photographers and artists<br />

in Poland than in the Netherlands. Maybe living here offers<br />

easier access to some things, maybe the Dutch have<br />

more spare money to pay for shows and exhibits or buying<br />

large prints. In Poland, not everyone can afford it.<br />

But I sometimes think that I would’ve achieved more if I<br />

stayed in Poland. Overall, I don’t think it matters where<br />

you live and work. That’s just my opinion, of course.<br />

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44 <strong>POST</strong> <strong>SCRIPTUM</strong>

Do you often organize exhibits of your works?<br />

I have only started showing my photos in exhibits<br />

this year, because I thought I didn’t have anything to show.<br />

So, exhibits are a fresh topic for me. I have exhibited my<br />

works in Paris, London, and in Poland, of course – in Kraków,<br />

in the Zofia Weiss gallery, and now in Szczyrk, in the Bator Art<br />

gallery. I’m currently negotiating with galleries in Warsaw,<br />

Berlin and Hamburg. So, things are definitely happening on<br />

that front. I would love to exhibit my works in New York City.<br />

You’re a master of your field, do you organize any workshops<br />

or classes for other photographers?<br />

I would like to thank you very much for calling<br />

me a master, I don’t feel like one myself. I have always<br />

thought I still have much to learn. Like every artist, I have<br />

days when I feel like I can do anything and that I’m great,<br />

but other-times I can’t escape the feeling that I can’t<br />

do anything and I’m miserable… But I always hear from<br />

my photographer friends that they feel the same, so… I<br />

think that’s a healthy way to think of work (laughter).<br />

What I have learned, I try to pay forward in my workshops.<br />

I prefer 1 on 1 workshops, because then I have a good connection<br />

with the person I’m teaching. I only make an exception<br />

once a year, when I go to Złodziejewo, a town near Bydgoszcz.<br />

There’s a beautiful palace there, watched over by<br />

Marcelina Oczkowska. It’s an ethereal place, I have also attended<br />

workshops there once, and my sentiment still lives on.<br />

Where would I go if I wanted to buy one of your pieces?<br />

You can buy them directly from me. I also have<br />

agents in Poland, and in the Netherlands. I point them towards<br />

interested people, and they take care of all necessary<br />

things.You can also buy my works in the TON gallery in<br />

the Netherlands. No galleries in Poland sell my works right<br />

now, but negotiations are ongoing, and it might change in<br />

the near future. [AB]<br />

When I see the model, the main<br />

inspiration is their look, the appearance.<br />

But when I start taking pictures,<br />

I deal more with the soul.<br />

by Agnieszka Biardzka<br />

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Graphic designer<br />

Performer<br />

Artist painter<br />

Poet<br />

46 <strong>POST</strong> <strong>SCRIPTUM</strong>

Being an artist<br />

means to be<br />

yourself,<br />

to be the<br />

creator<br />

of your own<br />

life<br />

A graphic designer, an artist painter, a poet, a performer…<br />

Which one of those roles is the closest to you and why?<br />

Graphic design (own digital images, and cooperation<br />

with photo-advertising agencies) is my basic source<br />

of income at the moment. But my beloved form of artistic<br />

expression is painting – that’s my life calling.<br />

Artistic work – what does that mean for you? What<br />

does it mean to “be an artist”?<br />

Currently I don’t differentiate between everyday life<br />

and art. For me, everything is a part of a whole and<br />

I can say, that I do the art of life. Someone once said: I<br />

think that everything in life is art. What you do, what<br />

you wear, the way you speak, write, drink your tea<br />

and love. How you decorate your home, what you<br />

surround yourself with and how you feel. Life is Art.<br />

What does it mean to be an artist? It means<br />

to be yourself, to be a creator of your own life.<br />

During your creative process, what’s your inspiration.<br />

Spiritual experiences, emotional moments, or just mundane<br />

everyday life?<br />

My inspiration is limitless imagination and Life as it is,<br />

along with everything it brings in every moment. I once<br />

put it in such poetic words: “Touch the stars as you<br />

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walk on the earth. May your thoughts, as if colorful butterflies,<br />

drink the magical dew of the flowers of life”…<br />

If the above is too broad, I will say that my greatest inspiration<br />

are people that appear around me: friends, family,<br />

artists, shamans, yogis, and to be more specific: Martyna,<br />

the love of my life, Salvador Dali, Alex Grey, or Bob Marley.<br />

Your artistic action DMTWALKER touched me. I watched<br />

the movie that recorded the project. It’s very moving<br />

and dramatic. You, as a living image full of colors, walking<br />

among hurried, grey people preoccupied with their<br />

mundane lives. What a stark contrast!<br />

(Please tell our readers, what caused the idea for such<br />

a performance to be born, what did you want to say<br />

through the action, and why DMT?)<br />

DMTWALKER is a multimedia project, an alchemist crucible<br />

that combines painting, performance, body art, shaman<br />

rituals, photography, video and music. It’s somewhat<br />

of a self-portrait, a tale of passion for life, of love<br />

for art, and of places that are close to my heart. When I<br />

prepared myself for this project, some friends suggested<br />

I set out on a journey far to the East, find the so-called<br />

“places of pwer”, and record the video there. For me,<br />

a place of power is where I live everyday. The project<br />

was realized in the intriguing alleys and main streets<br />

of Bielsko-Biała, and the opening and closing sequences<br />

are the landscape around Lipowa, a picturesque village<br />

near Żywiec, where I was raised until I was eleven.<br />

More about the project, its message and DMT<br />

(dimethyltryptamine) can be found in my article:<br />

http://www.taraka.pl/dmtwalker_bohater_tysiacu_twarzy,<br />

which I invite everyone to read.<br />

What is your dream as an artist?<br />

An artist’s dreams are simultaneously plans for the next<br />

years: video-project AURATUS (dancing, body-painting,<br />

and music), painting exhibit in ENTHEON - Sanctuary of<br />

Visionary Art that is being built by Alex Grey (www.alexgrey.com)<br />

on his property near New York, and a series<br />

of visionary paintings GREAT ARKANA & THE HERO’S<br />

JOURNEY (my own version of the first 22 Tarot cards).<br />

Thank you very much for this conversation, and I wish<br />

you everlasting artistic growth.<br />

For our readers that would like to get to know Darek’s<br />

works closer, here is a link to his website:<br />

www.valcari-art.com [AB]<br />

Agnieszka Biardzka<br />

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The HIGHEST Challenge of the World<br />

Joanna Nordyńska<br />

sailor traveler film producer<br />

52 <strong>POST</strong> <strong>SCRIPTUM</strong>

HIMALAYAS... the highest,<br />

literally and figuratively, challenge<br />

for many people. Peaks<br />

of dreams, peaks of emotions,<br />

peaks of audacity. For those who<br />

managed to conquer them - also<br />

the heights of<br />

happiness and<br />

satisfaction.<br />

My fascination with the mountains began, like for many<br />

others, in my early childhood, as soon as I learned to<br />

read. I was raised by my father, who was my greatest authority<br />

and my guru in many areas of interest, with artistic<br />

lead of course, as he was an artist himself. He shaped<br />

my sensitivity to beauty and nature, but also taught me<br />

humility in the face of fate and the ability to deal mentally<br />

in difficult situations. I gained the confidence that I could<br />

deal with any situation, no matter how difficult. Probably<br />

my father’s great merit in igniting my imagination was<br />

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giving me appropriate books, not only about art, but also<br />

about natural history or historical. There were also a lot of<br />

books in our house, donated by friendly authors - sailors,<br />

travellers, mountaineers. Among them were such titles as<br />

People In Front of the Wall, Repentant Snow and Everyone<br />

According To Dreams of Andrzej Wilczkowski - mechanical<br />

engineer, lecturer at Lodz University of Technology, inventor,<br />

mountaineer and alpinist (among others the expedition<br />

leader to the mountains of Ethiopia and Hindu Kush)<br />

and co-founder of the Students’ Satire Theatre Pstrąg, whe<br />

ich my parents were also engaged with. I remember<br />

conversations about Wilczkowski’s expeditions<br />

and other friends from the<br />

Lodz Mountaineering Club.<br />

I would add that my parents<br />

themselves were also people<br />

with a sports fervour, which inevitably<br />

passes from generation<br />

to generation. The amount of<br />

stories, books read and films<br />

watched, including articles by<br />

Jerzy Surdel and Szymon Wdowiak,<br />

gave a nice conglomerate of<br />

interests. There was even such<br />

a moment that under the influence<br />

of these reports I wanted<br />

to become an expedition operator<br />

- a rather irrational dream<br />

at the time. My father, who<br />

started his career as an operator<br />

himself, quickly led me away<br />

from this idea. In those days it<br />

was a long and quite uncertain<br />

path to the goal, especially difficult<br />

for a woman. I gave up.<br />

For the lowlander, contact with<br />

the mountains is usually sporadic,<br />

so there was no natural<br />

temptation to hike or to climb<br />

them up. If we went to the mountains, it was rather for skiing<br />

holidays in winter. However, once happened that my father<br />

sent me to the winter camp in the The Kraków-Częstochowa<br />

Upland [also known as the Polish Jurassic Highland<br />

– translator’s note] . There “I felt the call.” Children’s imagination,<br />

as you know, sometimes suggests stupid ideas.<br />

Once, together with three friends, we slipped away from<br />

the group, wanting to penetrate the cave in the rock wall.<br />

We tied together four knitted scarves (they were so fashionable<br />

at the time), and we used such a set as a safety<br />

rope. It was a miracle that nothing happened to anyone.<br />

In addition, a moment later I slid down on a small scree<br />

and accelerated so dangerously that through the eyes of<br />

my imagination I saw my miserable end in a stone crack.<br />

And this time the scarves came in handy. This event was<br />

so exciting to me that it stuck in my mind for a long time<br />

as a warning. For many years I watched the mountains<br />

through someone else’s lens, or from the ski slopes. There<br />

wasn’t much time for hiking in the mountains, because in<br />

the summer we usually sailed. I read and watched a lot<br />

about mountaineering, but I didn’t have enough determination<br />

to hike. In the end the time has come for it, but I<br />

won’t climb any of those really high mountains. I have no<br />

such imperative and I am put off by the need for very good<br />

preparation, as well as many inconveniences, such as cold.<br />

The lower parts of the mountains,<br />

however, are certainly<br />

still within my reach and willingness.<br />

My husband and I<br />

have just returned from the<br />

Dolomites, where there are<br />

many mountain routes of varying<br />

difficulty. We also have<br />

next plans. Probably Ladakh.<br />

Returning to the Himalayas ...<br />

Every year several hundred people<br />

try their hand at climbing the<br />

highest mountains of the world.<br />

So far, the highest 14 peaks<br />

(ten of them are in the Himalayas),<br />

were conquered by<br />

approximately 25,000 people,<br />

of which only Mount Everest<br />

– by 5,000. However, since the<br />

first successful climb in 1953,<br />

this mountain claimed about<br />

300 victims. ‘The Mountain of<br />

Mountains’ attracts more and<br />

more daredevils, and unfortunately<br />

there are a lot of people<br />

in this group who do not really know the limit of their<br />

skills. Other peaks are also the goal of climbers and their<br />

climbing ended tragically for many. It is difficult to assess<br />

whether it is reasonable, if the travel agency ensures you<br />

that it offers everything that will be needed to reach the<br />

summit - porters, food, oxygen, medical assistance, etc.<br />

Obviously, tragic accidents can happen even to the best<br />

climbers, but the number of accidents is growing rapidly<br />

among people well prepared. The braver ones get up<br />

from behind the desk and after paying the appropriate<br />

amount, they queue up to the climbing adventure. Such<br />

climbers are practically carried up to the summit (if somehow<br />

their body can withstand it), and it still counts for a<br />

successful climb. The mountains are merciless, they de-<br />

54 <strong>POST</strong> <strong>SCRIPTUM</strong>

serve the highest respect. It is hard to imagine climbing in<br />

such difficult conditions whilst sitting in a cosy home. No<br />

film, nor any photos, will fully capture the power of the<br />

mountains or the conditions prevailing there. This must<br />

be experienced personally. If this is a passion developed<br />

over the years, then you probably go through the subsequent<br />

levels of initiation and are prepared to face the highest<br />

mountains, but if not ... then the best method to get<br />

closer to them is to choose the “level below”, i.e. trekking.<br />

The most popular route is the transition to the base under<br />

the Everest. Currently, it is overcrowded by tourists,<br />

although taking into account the specifics of the Himalayan<br />

climate (the best trekking seasons are in April and<br />

<strong>October</strong>), it is still a fraction of one percent of humanity.<br />

It is a relatively simple route, requiring nothing more<br />

than good physical condition, and the only real obstacle<br />

to health here is altitude. The disease associated with it<br />

usually manifests itself over 3,500 meters, but some may<br />

be affected at more than 2,000 m.a.s.l., which in practice<br />

means that from the beginning of the expedition, because<br />

the airport in Lukla is located at 2,860 metres above sea<br />

level. It should be added that the airport itself already,<br />

to some extent, verifies one’s courage, as it is in the first<br />

place in the ranking of the most dangerous airports in the<br />

world due to the location between the mountains and<br />

a very short runway (only 400m, inclined at an angle of<br />

12 degrees). There is a bit of exaggeration in my opinion,<br />

as in bad weather conditions planes simply do not fly.<br />

What happens then? Well, there are three options. First<br />

one is to wait, but no one will guarantee that you will get<br />

on any flight, because all of them are usually fully booked,<br />

and you hit the end of the queue. The second option –<br />

to get there by helicopter, which, although the weather<br />

threshold is slightly higher, and the price also high, and<br />

the third one – to choose land route, which takes about<br />

4 days - partly by jeeps, but a large fragment, however,<br />

would be on foot. If we have already reached our starting<br />

point, i.e. the beginning of several trekking routes, we<br />

can collect the last practical advice from returning tourists<br />

who eagerly share their experience. Loaded with good<br />

emotions, we set off on the route and after 2 days we<br />

faced one of the most beautiful mountains in the world<br />

- Ama Dablam, which in translation from Sanskrit means<br />

a Mother’s Gem-Necklace, by default the mother of the<br />

mountains. From that moment we go among the snowy<br />

mountains, whose charm and power ... well ... one would<br />

like to say that they are breath taking, but it is responsible<br />

for the thinner air with altitude rise. The return trip to<br />

the Base Camp on average takes 14 days, including 2 acclimatization<br />

days. If we do not want to go back the same<br />

way, we can make a circle around the Solo Khumbu valley<br />

by choosing, for example, a route through three passes -<br />

Kongma La (5535m.a.s.l.), Cho La (5420m.a.s.l.) and Renjo<br />

La (4790m.a.s.l.), apparently the most spectacular in the<br />

World, but also quite difficult. Maybe not technically, it’s<br />

more about endurance. Those who climbed Zawrat - can be<br />

calm. Three weeks should be allocated for this route, but<br />

they will undoubtedly be one of the most beautiful weeks<br />

in life. The route can be completed in both directions.<br />

However, remember that climbing is only half the battle,<br />

because going down can be just as difficult. In addition, we<br />

may be surprised by the “own life” of the mountains, and<br />

more specifically – the glaciers. If you want to go through<br />

the glacier, you may be surprised by the creation of a new<br />

lake, which will prevent you from walking along the chosen<br />

The mountains are merciless,<br />

they deserve the highest<br />

respect<br />

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oute, and we will have to make the roads to circle them.<br />

This happened to us after leaving the Kongma La Pass,<br />

when we traversed the Khumbu Glacier. The village of Lobuche<br />

seemed to be at hand. We followed the shortcut,<br />

but as a result of encountering water and having to return<br />

to the right trail, we arrived much later than we planned.<br />

There are also places where you have to be especially<br />

careful, because ice melting during the day ceases<br />

to be a binder for stones and they can move or fall.<br />

This is the case, for example, at the Cho La Pass, where<br />

you should be getting to quite early during this reason.<br />

This said, I should like to make a small digression about the<br />

ascent and descent. Even if we have a small height difference<br />

to climb during the day, before we get from point A to<br />

B, we will actually do 2-3 times as much, although our guide<br />

said it will be almost flat. Then of course, when it seems to us<br />

that we are already reaching the coveted summit, in a moment<br />

the next, often even higher one, will appear behind it.<br />

56 <strong>POST</strong> <strong>SCRIPTUM</strong><br />

In the lower parts of the mountains we still have to take<br />

into account the frequent stops forced by the mule and<br />

yak cavalcades. Meeting such a laden animal could be very<br />

painful, so it’s better to get out of their way. The rule is that<br />

we let them pass “outside” so as not to be knocked down.<br />

They also have absolute priority on the countless narrow<br />

hanging bridges. Pressing to the handrail may cause, for<br />

example, ribs to break. One should also realise the scale<br />

of this transport. Everything that is needed for life in the<br />

mountains, except for small crops, is brought by porters<br />

and animals, or imported by helicopter, which is unfortunately<br />

very expensive, in addition to the entire inventory of<br />

all expeditions. In addition, they provide fuel and supplies<br />

for an increasing number of tourists. TONNES of tourists!<br />

These three weeks are associated with one more challenge,<br />

quite serious for some. There are no toilets on<br />

the route and poor running water supply, not to mention<br />

hot water. Basically, there is plenty of water around,<br />

but there is a snag - it freezes. It happens that in shelters<br />

called <strong>Eng</strong>lish lodges, even the water standing in barrels<br />

inside the room freezes. One day in the morning I<br />

reached for my backpack with a drinking water bottle ...<br />

but I didn’t satisfy my thirst. I looked at the window and<br />

the beautiful frosted stained-glass windows on the inside.<br />

One should also appreciate the fortitude of the Sherpas who<br />

live here, living in extremely difficult conditions, and yet<br />

nice and smiling. However, this is a topic for a separate story.<br />

So, going back to hygiene, it’s often limited to wet<br />

wipes. Now imagine sleeping in a tent and peeing at -40<br />

° C, and often a gale or snowstorm. The shower is a distant<br />

dream and falling asleep in such conditions is a feat.<br />

I really admire everyone who climbs up even higher,<br />

regardless of whether for the love of the mountains<br />

and the unrestrained imperative of reaching the<br />

summit, or for the ignorance and desire to test themselves.<br />

At this point, I can only invite you to see some<br />

photos that can arouse the imagination, but, as I mentioned<br />

earlier, they will never give the impression of<br />

personal contact with these beautiful mountains. [JP]

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all the photos were taken by Joanna Nordyńska

Climbing up is only half the<br />

battle, because going down<br />

can be just as difficult...<br />

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“I don’t demand money for it”<br />

A conversation with Renata Słomkowska,<br />

a rockband manager<br />

How does one become a rockband manager?<br />

60 <strong>POST</strong> <strong>SCRIPTUM</strong><br />

Hmm… I guess you have to be famous<br />

for being talkative and resourcefulness (laughter).<br />

For me, that happened a bit differently. In<br />

<strong>October</strong> of 2017, I saw an ad saying that a boy<br />

named Dawid looks for a bass player to create<br />

a band. I had one bass player “on hand”,<br />

so I reached out. Very quickly, on the same<br />

day even, 3 boys came by: Dawid – the vocalists,<br />

Przemo – the guitarists, and Kamil on the<br />

drums. That’s how it began (laughter). I interrogated<br />

them on the way they want to create<br />

the band, what they want to play, where do<br />

they get their lyrics, etc. They just wanted to<br />

play. So I took care of the creation – from the<br />

band name, through the logo, the repertoire,<br />

and, of course, lyrics. It wasn’t hard for me, as<br />

I’ve been writing poetry since forever. That’s<br />

how Now Me was born. Of course, I’m evil<br />

(laughter), so I immediately dragged them to<br />

work. After a month, we played our first concert,<br />

and it was successful. During the next<br />

few months, our members came and went,<br />

since the boys had their own lives that interfered<br />

with our numerous rehearsals. All<br />

original members went. The second band<br />

was created because a friend asked me. He<br />

wanted to sing works of Niemen. But that’s<br />

not something our young, Włocławek musicians<br />

would play. But what was created was<br />

Heaven Rock, a cover band playing good<br />

rock songs from bands such as Lady Pank,<br />

Wanda I Banda, Perfect, Oddział Zamknięty,<br />

Bajm, or Manaam, which I let out onto<br />

the market equally quickly. Young people<br />

play in both bands, and they can be quite<br />

breath-taking (laughter). Along the way, I<br />

got a few offers of becoming a manager for<br />

well-known Polish bands, but it’s not something<br />

I want to focus on. I find joy in helping<br />

the young and talented who need the<br />

help. Sadly, if they don’t find a person that<br />

Renata Słomkowska

Renata Słomkowska, born in the 70s (second half) in Włocławek, where she<br />

lives and works today. Her day job is being a pedagogue, psychologist and a<br />

speech therapist. Music has been accompanying her since childhood – it always<br />

played in the house somewhere. As a little girl, she started to play the piano,<br />

and that lasted for quite a while. Then it was the flute, and then the bass.<br />

Other than music, she explores the widely considered spiritual development.<br />

pushes them out from the nest and into the world –<br />

most of them will just keep playing in a garage forever.<br />

Can one make a living out of it? Is anything in Poland<br />

that can make you a decent living?<br />

I don’t think there is. The manager takes 20-30%<br />

of concert earnings. Aside from disco polo, look at ticket<br />

prices for well-established bands, such as Kobranocka,<br />

Sztywny Pal Azji, Proletaryat, and others – and we grew<br />

up with them. In Poland, artists are not appreciated.<br />

People think of them as rich, irresponsible youngsters,<br />

and the reality is often brutal. A rock lover will hesitate<br />

to pay 50pln for a ticket, but disco polo can charge<br />

even 200pln. And me? No, this isn’t a way to earn money<br />

for me. I don’t demand money for it, the important<br />

thing for me is the satisfaction, that those people have a<br />

chance to shine. They often argue, and then I joke that I’ll<br />

charge them once they’re filthy rich rock stars (laughter).<br />

My line up?<br />

They’re like family. Both bands are friends and<br />

spend a lot of time together. As I already mentioned at the<br />

start, Now We, is a band that plays their own rock. How<br />

do we do that? The boys come over, set up their instruments<br />

at my house, and start playing. One comes up with<br />

a riff, another one catches onto it, then the others, music<br />

is created. And I write the lyrics. Sometimes we write lyrics<br />

that are ready for music, and sometimes – as with the bar<br />

girl or nice boys and naughty girls – I hear the music, the<br />

riffs, and something lights up within me. I grab a piece of<br />

paper, a pencil, and write the lyrics as we go, when the<br />

boys are already playing. Heaven Rock is different. It’s a<br />

rock cover band. The band doesn’t need much initiative on<br />

my part, though they like it when I’m with them (laughter).<br />

The thing that makes me good in manager’s<br />

shoes is the fact that I know many established musicians<br />

and bands, and I have communications skills,<br />

and, fitting for a women – when someone throws<br />

me out the door, I come back through the keyhole.<br />

Musician excesses?<br />

Now that’s a topic we could spend the whole day<br />

on, and a quite controversial one at that. I could point out<br />

hundreds of excesses of various bands. But, contrary to<br />

the popular opinion, they all grow up with age and most of<br />

those naughty boys become adults, and after the concert<br />

they come back home to their wives and children. How<br />

do I find myself in the middle of that? Not at all. It’s not<br />

fun for me. Maybe it’s my age, maybe it’s self-awareness…<br />

and a different culture. I respect myself and I don’t dabble<br />

in such company. Of course, I’m tolerant and if someone<br />

needs to spend time after a concert in such a way, I understand,<br />

but I won’t participate. With us, it’s different.<br />

From the very beginning I make sure that all my proteges<br />

know that one doesn’t need an excess of substances to<br />

create and celebrate success. Our rehearsals are always<br />

alcohol-free: that’s not up for debate, and they know well<br />

what a drunk concert can bring. I often take them to concerts<br />

of different bands and they can see the ones where<br />

the musicians come on stage more or less drunk. You can<br />

both see and hear it. My musicians are a far distance away<br />

from that, and I believe that they will carry those lessons<br />

into the future. After the concert, things are of course<br />

different. We celebrate, but in moderation – of course<br />

only the ones above drinking age. We either organize an<br />

after party at my place or we stay where we played and<br />

have a smaller circle of people. A nice beer and we talk<br />

about the concert, what was good, what was botched.<br />

Right after it happened, while the emotions are present.<br />

Heh! Just a clarification – they drink their beer, and I<br />

drink water, because I’m usually the bus driver (laughter).<br />

My dream?<br />

Hmm… professional dreams concern the bands, of<br />

course. I want them to be recognized, to be successful, but<br />

I would also like them to keep their heads. And privately…<br />

That’s a tough question. My private life has been non-existent<br />

for a while. It’s sad, but it is what it is – I’m available for<br />

communication 24h a day, I take care of band stuff, I organize<br />

concerts, recording albums, etc. Contacts with other<br />

industry professionals, most of them men, don’t make pri-<br />

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Many<br />

young musicians<br />

are fascinated by rockstars’ life<br />

that they see on TV and online.<br />

62 <strong>POST</strong> <strong>SCRIPTUM</strong>

vate life easier, as you well know. Yes, I do dream of something<br />

stable, a safe harbour. That’s why I’m not taking on<br />

any new bands. My “children” are already self-reliant, so I<br />

will be able to leave them soon. To find my safe harbour.<br />

Hahaha! Tell you something spicy, you say?<br />

There’s no such thing. I’m as cold as ice and as<br />

hard as a rock. But seriously, I don’t allow myself to get piquant.<br />

If someone doesn’t treat me seriously just because<br />

I’m a woman, and tries something, I quickly bring them<br />

down to earth. I’m not funny, you see. There’s a story going<br />

around the net, one that I tell often. When someone asks,<br />

what does a band manager do, I always answer: organizes<br />

a concert, grabs the money, and runs off with the frontman’s<br />

girlfriend (laughter). Of course, most people don’t<br />

understand, since the story concerns male managers.<br />

Talent?<br />

Only selected few have talent. Many young musicians<br />

are fascinated with the life of rock stars that they see<br />

on the TV and in the web. They don’t know the reality. They<br />

grab an instrument, learn to play, create a band and think<br />

they’ll make it. And some do. Why? You need to know people,<br />

both the musicians and the manager need to. That’s<br />

how one-season bands are born. A one-time boom, and<br />

then silence. I prefer to take it slowly, baby steps, but towards<br />

a long-term goal. I am well aware that my musicians<br />

still need a lot of training, coordination, and experience.<br />

How does my day usually look like?<br />

They don’t<br />

know<br />

the reality.<br />

It’s usually my day job, and only then I’m the<br />

“manager”. Although it’s often been the case that I needed<br />

to take care of something in a hurry, e-mails, phone<br />

calls. But it’s not bad, contrary to how it looks at first<br />

glance, I also have a lot of free time. I’m well organized.<br />

My sons don’t suffer because of it – I think. I take care of<br />

the music business in-between other tasks. Of course, it<br />

requires constant contact through a phone or laptop, but<br />

you can put everything together if you want. Rehearsals<br />

and lyric writing take up the most time. There, I have to<br />

be physically present and exclusive. It’s hard to organize<br />

any private vacations during the concert season too. This<br />

one was plentiful, I only had a single weekend to catch my<br />

breath. But now I’m looking forward to a long rest. What’s<br />

next? Time will show.<br />

Thank you for the talk. [JP]<br />

The interview with Renata Słomkowska was performed by<br />

Jarosław Prusiński.<br />

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64 <strong>POST</strong> <strong>SCRIPTUM</strong><br />

Maja BOROWICZ, “Ostatni dotyk ostatni szept”

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