Monday, February 26, 2018
Saturday, February 24, 2018
Thursday, February 22, 2018
Wednesday, February 21, 2018
Saturday, February 17, 2018
Sunday, February 11, 2018
Monday, February 5, 2018
Saturday, February 3, 2018
Thursday, February 1, 2018
Monday, January 29, 2018
Friday, January 26, 2018
Wednesday, January 24, 2018
Tuesday, January 23, 2018
https://i.pinimg.com/originals/40/53/dd/4053dd9f489c85d24551b28e1c377ab5.jpg
Andre Kertesz, jedan od mojih najomiljenijih fotografa
Saturday, January 20, 2018
Joanna (2010)
https://pl.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Joanna_(film_2010)
Joanna (2013)
https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Joanna_(2013_film)
Friday, January 12, 2018
Tuesday, January 9, 2018
Monday, January 8, 2018
Monday, January 1, 2018
Saturday, December 30, 2017
Friday, December 29, 2017
Tuesday, December 26, 2017
Monday, December 25, 2017
Sunday, December 24, 2017
Thursday, December 21, 2017
Sunday, December 17, 2017
Wednesday, December 13, 2017
Sunday, December 10, 2017
Thursday, November 23, 2017
Tuesday, November 21, 2017
Thursday, November 16, 2017
Wednesday, November 15, 2017
Monday, November 13, 2017
Saturday, November 11, 2017
Friday, November 10, 2017
Tuesday, November 7, 2017
Monday, November 6, 2017
Sunday, November 5, 2017
Wednesday, November 1, 2017
Tuesday, October 31, 2017
According to my calculations there are two or three new fictional characters baptized on earth every second. As a result, I am always unsure of myself when it comes time for me to enter that vast crowd of John the Baptists. But what can I do? I have to call my characters something, don't I? Well, this time, just to make it clear my heroine belongs to me and me alone (and means more to me than anyone ever has), I am giving her a name no woman has ever had before: Tamina. I picture her as tall and beautiful, thirty-three, and a native of Prague.
I can see her now, walking down a street in a provincial town in the west of Europe. Yes, you're right. Prague, which is far away, I call by its name, while the town my story takes place in I leave anonymous. It goes against all rules of perspective, but you'll just have to put up with it.
Tamina has a job as a waitress in a small café belonging to a married couple. The café brought in so little money the husband took a job somewhere else and they hired Tamina to take his place. The difference between the miserable salary he earned at his new job and the even more miserable salary they gave Tamina was their only profit...
All she has left of her husband is his passport picture. The other pictures remain behind in their appropriated apartment in Prague. Every day she looks at the grimy, dog-eared picture showing her husband full face (like a criminal in a mug shot). It is not a good likeness. Every day she spends some time in a sort of spiritual exercise, trying to remember what he looked like in profile, then half profile, then quarter profile, going over the lines of his nose and chin, and every day she is horrified at new fuzzy spots where her memory hesitates about which way to go.
During these exercises she tried to evoke his skin, its color, and all its minor blemishes: tiny warts, protuberances, freckles, veins. It was difficult, almost impossible. The colors her memory used were unrealistic. They could not do justice to human skin. As a result, she developed her own special technique of calling him to mind. Whenever she sat across from a man, she would use his head as a kind of sculptor's armature. She would concentrate all her attention on him and remodel his face inside her head, darkening the complexion, adding freckles and warts, scaling down the ears...
Why do I picture her with a golden ring in her mouth?
M. Kundera, The Book of Laughter and Forgetting
I can see her now, walking down a street in a provincial town in the west of Europe. Yes, you're right. Prague, which is far away, I call by its name, while the town my story takes place in I leave anonymous. It goes against all rules of perspective, but you'll just have to put up with it.
Tamina has a job as a waitress in a small café belonging to a married couple. The café brought in so little money the husband took a job somewhere else and they hired Tamina to take his place. The difference between the miserable salary he earned at his new job and the even more miserable salary they gave Tamina was their only profit...
All she has left of her husband is his passport picture. The other pictures remain behind in their appropriated apartment in Prague. Every day she looks at the grimy, dog-eared picture showing her husband full face (like a criminal in a mug shot). It is not a good likeness. Every day she spends some time in a sort of spiritual exercise, trying to remember what he looked like in profile, then half profile, then quarter profile, going over the lines of his nose and chin, and every day she is horrified at new fuzzy spots where her memory hesitates about which way to go.
During these exercises she tried to evoke his skin, its color, and all its minor blemishes: tiny warts, protuberances, freckles, veins. It was difficult, almost impossible. The colors her memory used were unrealistic. They could not do justice to human skin. As a result, she developed her own special technique of calling him to mind. Whenever she sat across from a man, she would use his head as a kind of sculptor's armature. She would concentrate all her attention on him and remodel his face inside her head, darkening the complexion, adding freckles and warts, scaling down the ears...
Why do I picture her with a golden ring in her mouth?
M. Kundera, The Book of Laughter and Forgetting
Sunday, October 29, 2017
Thursday, October 26, 2017
Wednesday, October 25, 2017
Od 2009, narednih sedam godina mnogo sam sanjala jednu osobu, dva sna drzim u secanju, prvi, kada smo se, bezeci od vlasti jednog totalitarnog sistema u dalekoj buducnosti, koji nam je branio da budemo zajedno, spustali tunelima u obliku tobogana, drzeci se za ruke i drugi, kada sam ga, stigavsi u njegov grad, cekala u njegovoj sobi i videla meni poznatu odecu koju nosi i mogla da je dodirnem I kada se pojavio na vratima, tiho sam rekla: "Ne plasi se, ja sam unutra." Oba su snova imala radnju dovoljno dugu za dve kratke price. Stalno sam imala nevolje s telefonom jer me bilo zao da uklonim stare poruke.
Tuesday, October 24, 2017
Monday, October 23, 2017
Friday, October 20, 2017
Friday, October 13, 2017
Thursday, October 12, 2017
Wednesday, October 11, 2017
Saturday, October 7, 2017
Friday, October 6, 2017
Wednesday, October 4, 2017
Tuesday, October 3, 2017
Monday, October 2, 2017
Tuesday, September 26, 2017
Monday, September 25, 2017
Sunday, September 24, 2017
Wednesday, September 13, 2017
Tuesday, September 5, 2017
Monday, September 4, 2017
Sunday, September 3, 2017
Thursday, August 31, 2017
Saturday, August 26, 2017
Sunday, August 20, 2017
Saturday, August 19, 2017
Sunday, August 13, 2017
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