fairy tale about a girl, who hanged herself in the attic. she was hanging there for so long, that her sweet scent enticed butterflies. these coated her livid body and now it looks like she was only a chrysalis, swayed calmly by a draught.

butterflies

red room

you

śnienie

self-portrait with demons (July, 2013)

pachniesz słodko i mdło, pachniesz czarnymi wiśniami

fairy tale about a girl, who hanged herself in the attic. she was hanging there for so long, that her sweet scent enticed butterflies. these coated her livid body and now it looks like she was only a chrysalis, swayed calmly by a draught

thank you Agnes Cygan

w kolorze krwi i malin

One of my Caskets for Hair.


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I thought: there is a box, many boxes painted in gold. My room at the attic, weak light. Will you send me even a small lock of your hair? I will tie it with a thin thread or creamy ribbon. Will you let me to lock it here, inside my world? Your name. Once, some woman gave me out of love a lock of her ginger hair. Her name was Justyna. Have I told you about her?

Will you send me even a small lock of your hair?

I thought: there is a box, many boxes painted in gold. My room at the attic, weak light. Will you send me even a small lock of your hair? I will tie it with a thin thread or creamy ribbon. Will you let me to lock it here, inside my world? Your name. Once, some woman gave me out of love a lock of her ginger hair. Her name was Justyna. Have I told you about her?