Day 247 of Current Days: A severe case of a dog Who killed the Dog? Taxes. At Park Lane. Case study of a dog based on Monopoly game…
It’s been a good few weeks since Mr. Gloom miraculously saved me from a drunkard wandering in the basement. Initially, I feared his noble deed might have very…
Day 245 of Current Days: Reheating My dear, let’s reheat this. It’s quite a good cutlet. Marleno, Marleno,posuń się, kochana,jak za dawnych, ciepłych nocypoleżmy znów do rana. Pod…
There are days when everything seems perfect. Good days lull your vigilance. They undermine such a meticulously woven sense of reality.
A skull viewed from the side always has the look of someone in a fine mood. A grin full of teeth.
We are at a club. Me, the rest of the class, and some other people I don’t know. Apparently, they know Staniec, because they are here today, and…
My senses register objects faster than my brain. Today, it’s the scent of decay. A nature’s brutal art in the safe hands of professionals.
Farewell to Snow: Day 238 of Current Days. A reflection on parting with the creaking contrast, blinding cold, and the vivid shadows of winter. And light.
Day 237 of Current Days: How I become The Creator of Pink Universes “Mom, can I come in?” a question echoes from the foot of the stairs. “Come…
Where geometry ends and anatomy begins. A watercolor study of an infinite universe trapped within the limits of a radius, and the skin.
It stands in the corner of our basement; from a distance, it looks like an old coat. I suspect my parents won’t notice it anyway—besides, they rarely come down here now.
In my view, Mr. Gloom is a perfect being. He never specifically demands to be fed; he never screams, never judges. He simply endures, never refusing me anything that wouldn’t be contrary to his nature.
The basement is my true home. This is where I spend my most important time. My time. Yes. The basement is a good place.
I have Mr. Gloom in my closet. He appeared in my life inexplicably. One day, I simply found him in a corner of the basement hallway. He stood…
Slowly, creating becomes part of the day, like walking the dog or drinking tea. It’s not essential for survival, yet removing it from the script creates a certain deficiency.
There are creative and craft days. Without craft ones, creative days cannot follow. They get blocked, creating a backlog of unused energy.
I am getting closer. To that elusive relationship between chaos and perfection. My lifestyle fuels the creation of such works. Catching chaos is my daily life. I managed…