Everything begins with a journey. I look into my memories, snapshots from my childhood. I relive them anew again and again. I seek for what is now just a faint memory. Places, people, emotions, feelings long gone.
I remember holidays, the very first ones and then the next...
Sun-heat-warm playground and rich collection of crown caps. Leaving my handprints in the wet concrete "forever".
I remember that man, who sold lemonade but for some reason was always running out of straws.
The fishing trips with my dad in an old Lada [russian socialist car make] where summer heat made us glue to the leather-like car seats. I still remember the taste of my mum's all favorite sweet butter rolls and chasing ants on the picnic blanket. Our trips to the seaside, a mesmerising view from the rear seats that my sisters and I enjoyed on our way, the wind that seemed to chase disobedient clouds. Our first night under the tent...
The warmth of those memories is glowing inside me as I examine them one by one. I keep coming back to them now and again, not even sue how come. They give me strength, fill me with power. I wander taking my time.
Every moment takes focus, patience, pausing. The train, the bus, the car, north, south, east and west – Poland. Everything we look at, we experience could have just as well happened in this very same playground....