I wanted to write about that thing

Posted by on Jun 14, 2014 in Letters | 2 Comments
alt: I wanted to write about that thing

Dear friend, now still morning and I have already done so many things. It feels right to drink tea outside and write few lines for you my friend. When I woke up today morning I had plan to “shoot some cows”. Oh, you do not know what I am referring to? I guess you (more…)

Three seconds

Posted by on May 18, 2014 in Letters | One Comment
alt: Three seconds

Once we look at the picture in these days, we move further in less then 3 seconds. We do it even if we find something interesting it that photograph. We don’t do it only with images, it feels like we do it with everything. You jump the moments, you don’t enjoy your time. You flip it away, in three seconds finite sequence until you die. (more…)

On the surface

Posted by on Apr 27, 2013 in Letters | One Comment
alt: On the surface

Today I came across following piece of text written by Henry Miller. After reading it, I realize that this was clear to me for very long time. Sometime you realize things only when you see them from outside. Your own inside voice is not loud enough or you are blind enough to ignore it. Writers joy is something I need to remind myself every time I get lost.

Here is the quote:

On the surface, where the historical battles rage, where everything is interpreted in terms of money and power, there may be crowding, but life only begins when one drops below the surface, when one gives up the struggle, sinks and disappears from sight. Now I can as easily not write as write: there is no longer any compulsion, no longer any therapeutic aspect to it. Whatever I do is done out of sheer joy: I drop my fruits like a ripe tree. What the general reader or the critic makes of it is not my concern. I am not establishing values: I defecate and nourish. There is nothing more to it.

Writers joy:

Isn’t this something we should realize if we like to say something mainly to ourself? We do not need to pretend and lie to self, do we? Just few minutes later I came across of video where Ray Bradbury talks among other things following:

Now, what I’m thinking of is, people always saying “Well, what do we do about a sudden blockage in your writing? What if you have a blockage and you don’t know what to do about it?” Well, it’s obvious you’re doing the wrong thing, don’t you? In the middle of writing something you go blank and your mind says: “No, that’s it.” Ok. You’re being warned, aren’t you? Your subconscious is saying “I don’t like you anymore. You’re writing about things I don’t give a damn for.” You’re being political, or you’re being socially aware. You’re writing things that will benefit the world. To hell with that! I don’t write things to benefit the world. If it happens that they do, swell. I didn’t set out to do that. I set out to have a hell of a lot of fun.

Somewhere else in that rather long video (yes this is not 15 second twitter view) he mentioned something very similar to Henry Miller I quote earlier:

Ray Bradbury:

I want your loves to be multiple. I don’t want you to be a snob about anything. Anything you love, you do it. It’s got to be with a great sense of fun. Writing is not a serious business. It’s a joy and a celebration. You should be having fun with it. Ignore the authors who say “Oh, my God, what word? Oh, Jesus Christ…”, you know. Now, to hell with that. It’s not work. If it’s work, stop and do something else.

You may say as I feel it, this is great I agree with it, but I need to eat and feed my kids…

The End or How fallen tree signifies an life

Posted by on Mar 29, 2013 in Letters | 11 Comments
alt: The End or How fallen tree signifies an life

Last two weeks before this one I was travelling all around the globe. That means that I miss things, which happened home, sometimes I am surprised what has changed or what I see after I am back. Saturday, yes I think it was last Saturday, (more…)

About friends

Posted by on Jun 13, 2012 in Letters | 13 Comments
alt: About friends

It was long time ago, time when grass was greener and the Sun sharper. At least I do remember it like that, like early morning when grass was still wet and I was running up hill to meet my friend J. who was waiting for me in garage of his father. There, in cold dark. with smell of oil, was his motocross bike on wooden box. J. was cleaning carburetor and the block of the 125cc engine was next to the bike ready to be sealed. As we had no money (more…)

A Way out

Posted by on Oct 12, 2011 in Letters | 6 Comments
alt: A Way out

Each of us will want to get out one day. We will want to find the way out. And I believe it is good. Change is good in general, especially one we choose to do ourselves. It keeps us in focus, keeps us interested. Stagnation is ill. When I relax by lying on the bed watching the sealing, it is all one flat surface, mostly boring. I know you need that (more…)

Bloody fourteen years.

Posted by on Sep 1, 2011 in Short notes | 4 Comments

I am not sure if it is because of the first of The September or some other more mystical influence, but I wanted to tell you that is about fourteen years I am keeping my web pages and this blog online. It is very very long time. I must say I have changed it few times and I am not talking about (more…)

When a Photograph is piece of art?

Posted by on Jun 19, 2011 in Letters | 9 Comments
alt: When a Photograph is piece of art?

The other day I wrote email to fellow photographer. The email was about my view on his photography work. I met him first time at the pages of Adore Noire magazine, where we both were featured among few more photographers. His work stroked me as something I was searching for long time (more…)

End of The World?

Posted by on May 25, 2011 in Letters | 2 Comments
alt: End of The World?

Dear friend, you may heard about forecast of The end of the World. I never pay attention to these kind of things, somehow this time it surface more dominantly in Twitter. It was Saturday and of course (more…)

Time and its perception

Posted by on Apr 21, 2011 in Letters | 2 Comments

I am just now reading article in The New Yorker about David Eagleman and Mysteries of the Brain

Somehow, I often feel in these days that many things falling into the place. Reading this article reminds me many of my (more…)