Category: Oil paintings

Who killed the dog?

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…

Ode to a Cold Marlena

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…

Bad Good Days

There are days when everything seems perfect. Good days lull your vigilance. They undermine such a meticulously woven sense of reality.

Bad Attitude: Residual

A skull viewed from the side always has the look of someone in a fine mood. A grin full of teeth.

Smoky eyes

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…

Farewell to Snow

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 228. Catching Chaos

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…

Day 227. Playing God

Painting is playing God: creation beyond logic. The ultimate power is annihilation. Nothing empowers like destruction.

Day 226. It’s only the air

I rest my head on the pillow and try to steady my breath. I feel a chill on my cheek. It’s just fresh air, I tell myself, It’s only the air.

Day 225. Everything is fueled by the sun

The reserve of solar energy I gathered in the summer is running out. I feel the depletion in my bones. Everything is fueled by the sun.

Day 224. The most beautiful things happen in the shadows

Beautiful things happen in the shadows. Shadow is a sanctuary for thoughts that wish to remain hidden. Spirits forage among the leaves.

Day 222. Roots

I met her again recently. I don’t think of her as a specific individual, but rather as a template. A template of the mind.

Day 221. Flesh, Bone, and Will

It always puzzles me when people speak infantilly about angels. These beings of immense will and a morality that is too difficult for humans to grasp.

Day 220. Concubines

— A Pan, drogi Prezesie, gdzie spędza te wakacje?

Day 215. Porcelain birds

Ileż to krów Hermesie znów skradłeś Apollowi?

Day 213.

Dear, I’m thinking about the progress of the work. Painting has this quality where, unlike digital art, the history of a piece remains only in photographs (if one…

Day 212.

Done.