In this essay I turn my analytical tools toward the phrases I sometimes record upon waking from my language-driven dreams.
Some inspiration from a glimpse of the Mokotów sky caught one half hour before sunset and minutes before a burst of rain.
On ways that working has eased my recent suffering, or rather the completion of work, the proof of my capacity for it.
Days before the year’s close, another dismantling was on display. Here is my words-and-images record of this remarkable event.
A moonshot of an observation inspired by a shot of the moon captured on the evening of my son Anker’s sixth birthday.
This southern view captures more than an instance of weather: it is a document of the senses reveling in the crisp, clean air.
Read about the Różewicz poem fragments in the film by Nałęcki on display as part of the Wróblewski retrospective at MSN.
This year, my birthday gift for dad is a dedicated translation of the lyric Urania by Polish poet Jarosław Iwaszkiewicz.
Here’s a favorite of mine, which I first discovered on a New York City subway ride in 2003, along with my Polish translation.
A conceptual quiz I created long ago smacks of ennui—and seems right for April Fool’s Day, along with a cat I shot in 2008.
In grade school I was told that I have no talent for singing. In my mid-30s I’m finally discovering what I have been missing.
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