osiatynska

I count many reasons to read this exceptional, timeless book. And I hope a publisher makes it available for readers in Poland.

In this high intensity post I’m sharing a collage I made recently when I joined some friends for a low-key evening of casual collage-making.

Skagen in mid-August is a sleepy brisk paradise where two seas meet. It’s the perfect place for taking photos, collecting rocks, and starting over.

Not long ago I brought home fresh stalks of so-called lucky bamboo. Next, I discovered some of the ways I do and don’t know what I’m doing.

A favorite photo from last year was an effort of attention rewarded by a flash of luck. May it inspire how I say yes to life in twenty-twenty-five.

Here’s a quick study in contrasts with very little commentary because sometimes the pictures do the work of all the words.

My son’s birthdays measure both his age in years and my own evolution in motherhood, which continues to be a breathtaking, exciting experience.

I’ve posted pictures of the sky before, but I’ve never posted any of the ones I took in March of 2023. Here they are, all eight of them.

I’m pleased to announce that my translation of a Zbigniew Herbert poem has been featured in a book by Wojciech Sadurski.

I took these photos in Copenhagen’s Vestre Cemetery and I love they way they reveal grief’s private, affectionate side.

Did you know that light can be reflected again and again, many times, illuminating the shadows with the sheer force of physics?

The war next door has me thinking about the symbolism of those energetic and hopeful Ukrainian colors. May they be a sign.

A post on self-love in three parts, inspired by my adventures with paper folding and informed by my misadventures in love.

The end of one year has me taking stock of how I’ve been living. The first days of another bring me inspiration to invite what I desire.

A glimpse of white linen and periwinkle silk on an al fresco summer date inspires me to wonder why I am moved so deeply by this sight.

Drinking tea is a daily habit of mine and a constant source of pleasure. In this essay I take a part-poetic, part-analytical line of inquiry.

In this placeholder of a post I write absolutely nothing of any importance, yet I am inclined to think that this itself is quite telling.

My celebration of this unusual year includes a dozen self-portraits I took today and some thoughts about the way 2020 was my time for change.

To write what I want, about what I choose—this is independence. To photograph my city my way. To live on my own terms. Yes, in Warsaw.

As pandemic polemics drown out all other noise, everything becomes part of that chorus. Here are a few of my quiet observations.

Some connections are especially meaningful precisely because they are not deliberate. Here’s one linking two paintings by Agnieszka Zawisza.

A boy’s ninth birthday inspires contemplation of how this unlikely milestone marks not just the child’s life but motherhood, too.

Summing up a trip that transformed both a mom and a son is a task for mixed media, metaphor, and leaving some things unexplained.

One of the ways I remember my father is through poems he loved and ones I wish we could have read together. Here is a handful.

On the evening of the summer solstice in 2018 the Warsaw sky revealed extremes befitting the occasion. Here’s what I observed.

Flowers are my favorite gift, a great subject to photograph, and always more than the sum of the stems making up an arrangement.