
For me poetry is about discovering connections.
One simile connects A to B
and suddenly there is a whole new route for your mind to travel.
The longer the road – the more you see on the way.
Fall.
The time of unrest.
The space between seasons.
The riotous clamour of colour and the whisper of falling leaves, rustling…
The melody is created in the space between scream and whisper,
as between death and rebirth arises the music of life.
Over the years
I became so used to seeing myself reflected in your eyes –
I forget to look in the mirror…
At the end of the day,
this is the only reflection that matters.
For me, the value of surrealism is not in showing something unusual,
it is in making us look at ordinary things anew…
Seeing what somebody else made up is nothing compared to co-creating a world!
By its nature, fiction is limited to what its’ author already knows.
Only realism and exploration have a chance
of actually expanding the universe of our cultural imagination.
The Museum of Natural History.
A monument to Darwin and a memorial to intellectual courage.
To those few who really did not want to make a fuss,
but also could not live with themselves
without stating: “E pur si muove!”
To those, to whom we owe our freedom.
Thank you.
Ontogenesis repeats phylogenesis…
As in individual psyche,
when the walls we have built in our cultures start cracking,
the horrors from the past come through
and remind us of a large part of who we are.
Enter at your own risk…