POST SCRIPTUM English__ Feb 2021

WATER
How did it happen that you had become an artist – a
painter?
When I was a child, I was watching my brother paint and
draw. Janusz, who is 12 years older than me, is a painter.
I enjoyed very much squeezing oil paints from tubes and
the process of creating something on a white canvas.
There was nothing and, suddenly, there is something.
I filled in everything possible with doodles: cards,
copybook covers, tables, and walls. I remember I made
corrections in the paintings on the walls using my
crayons. One day I caused a great scandal – I irreversibly
destroyed some religious pictures when I decided to add
some dynamics to them and drew fire flames around the
figures.
As I remember, I always doodled impulsively, almost
destroyed and threw away what I had drawn. At the same
time, I was singing and shouting. It was a little painting
theatre of a child. When I wanted to draw a simple tower,
and it would always lean to one side, so as a punishment I
drew it upside down.
My brother, who noticed my interest, gave me blank
sheets of paper and assigned topics to draw. He would
also find competitions. One picture from that period has
been preserved until today – maybe it is the first work
in the series The Town of Łozowsko Wielkie. When my
brother was not around, I would be looking at all painting
albums he had and going through books devoted to art
history. I would set up easels, the palette and turn into a
painter, just like him. And this has remained with me until
today.
In the world that I created for myself at that time I
could build a variety of houses, cities, talking animals
and story-telling birds. I could play there as much as I
wanted. The reality around me then was very difficult
for a child and the world of painting enabled me to
escape it and find myself a safe haven.
Who are the residents of Łozowsko Wielkie?
Łozowsko Wielkie is the world of fantasy, unfulfilled
dreams, joy and sadness. Everything happens here.
It was born during a sad and difficult period of my
childhood. There are no rules here, anything is
possible. Houses can be people, flowers wearing hats
can speak and laugh, clowns have too big shoes and
noses. Thoughts intermix, clouds can sing, and people
can walk on clouds. Different voices inhabit the walls
of mysterious townhouses and look at us through
hundreds of windows left ajar. Maybe they are assessing
us, maybe they would like to give us some advice.
They are waiting, observing and gazing at us. Windows
are waiting for someone who will come, pass by, stop
and cast a furtive glance. Someone who will have the
courage to enter a house from the Town of Łozowsko
Wielkie. Freaky birds will welcome them with speech
that has never been heard, a cat will give them a bored
look and turn away ostentatiously. Someone is doing his
laundry, someone is looking for butterflies, someone is
observing everything from afar. Maybe the town is us
as we may see ourselves there, our joy, happiness, lies,
scheming, and vanity or, maybe, the town only pretends
to be a land of joy.
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