Przystań (2024)
A series of works titled “Przystań” (Harbour/Take a pause), created using digital painting techniques, explores places connected to my sense of security, identity, and belonging. The title refers both to a safe harbor, which is the main theme of the series, and aims to encourage pausing and reflecting on one’s surroundings—considering one’s well-being and seeking places that provide a sense of belonging. Specific locations were chosen intuitively, on a subconscious level. Only upon looking at them more broadly did I notice how many are related to my family home in Kalwaria Zebrzydowska. This place plays a special role in my psychological comfort, as it has always been a safe harbor for me and will remain so for a long time. Despite the passage of time, every visit gives me the impression that nothing has really changed, and I like to tell myself that nothing ever will, as time seems to stand still there.
The house stands opposite the train station, which became the central point for spending time with peers during my childhood. The platform was used for races, the station shelter for conversations and playing house, similar to the now-unused station building. The sounds of approaching trains accompanied us as we woke up and fell asleep. The railway had its quieter years, when almost no one traveled by train, and thus few people appeared on the platform, making travelers a curiosity that even intruded on our space. The noticeable change coincided with my move to Kraków for studies. The fear and discomfort of traveling on empty trains disappeared as they became crowded. I am writing these words on a train to Kraków, where passengers are forced to stand in the aisles because there’s no more space. Since moving, I have traveled roughly every two weeks, and the sounds of the journey, which drown out everything else, have become natural. Traveling on POLREGIO trains now only reminds me of returning to my family home or to my current life in Kraków, mainly evoking my family home—especially since I never had the chance to take these trains on any other route.
A work depicting an empty carriage is connected to a moment when, after spending a day in Kraków with childhood friends, I decided to return to Kalwaria with them on a night train. The train was unusually empty, and the temperature inside reached a level none of us had experienced in a long time. Traveling POLREGIO in winter is an unusual experience, where, for 5 PLN, you get an hour of sauna. Before leaving, we closed all the windows to avoid increasing heating costs. Exiting, I realized how unusual my sense of security could be in this mode of transportation, since the common opinion is that POLREGIO trains are ugly and run-down. It’s true that this particular train was exceptionally shabby, which made me feel even more strongly that the sense of security in such a place is highly subjective, likely shared mostly by local passengers.
Another work, focusing on the front door, is connected to the moment of leaving the train, when I always felt (half-jokingly) a sense of superiority over other passengers, as I had been “home” since stepping onto the platform. Even on the train, I could notice that neighbors had started renovations, and the construction materials had expanded their area. If the weather is good, my mom or dad is usually waiting for me on the platform with our dog; sometimes, when no one feels like going out, they let him out on the balcony, where his main interest is barking at strangers (passengers disembarking from the train). Another privilege is knowing already on the train whether there are guests at home, so I can choose to enter through the back door.
Another fundamental aspect of my personality is being constantly on the move, which is reflected in most of my works, including the previously mentioned POLREGIO trains. Other pieces in this series relate to the 130 bus stop on Wrocławska Street and the Złocień train station, as I currently live in that area. I can’t stand spending an entire day in one place, and I practically travel across Kraków every day, spending time in different locations and meeting friends. The series also includes several illustrations connected to evening walks, which are closely tied to my love of moving around. I am more of a “night owl,” so I usually return home after dark. Honestly, one of my favorite activities is peeking to see which windows are lit and which aren’t, wondering if so many apartments are dark because people go to bed at 10 p.m., prefer sitting in the dark, or aren’t home at all. I am very curious about what time people go to sleep, especially since at my house it was standard for my mom to go to bed around 8 p.m. and my dad sometimes after 2 a.m. Once, returning home at 11 p.m., I noticed that in a huge building on Mazowiecka Street, only one window at the very top was lit. The view was exceptionally aesthetic, almost like a window in the sky, but for me it evoked reflection: was everyone else in that building really asleep at 11 p.m.?
One of my works depicts the Plaka district in Athens, which I consider the equivalent of Kraków’s Kazimierz. Walking through this area in the evening is a unique experience, and I repeated it almost every day I was there. I have been connected to Greece since childhood, as my family traveled there nearly every year, and I first went at age seven. Vacations with them were mainly relaxing, but I aspired to explore the country in depth and even convinced my boyfriend twice to take more sightseeing-oriented trips. I won’t hide that my opinion of Greece changed after just two weeks in Athens, but I still hold the country dear and am very glad I had the opportunity to get to know it better. The illustration of Plaka primarily symbolizes my general love of travel, which has become increasingly important in my life since I gained the opportunity to explore. I believe, however, that its main quality is aesthetic, making it a good idea to continue the series by focusing on places I have visited.
In my work, I strive to be authentic and represent reality as I see it. Based on conversations with others, I’ve noticed that my works are received more positively by people who describe themselves as sentimental. I chose this theme because I feel capable of speaking extensively about each piece, and each one evokes positive emotions in me. None of them is indifferent to me—even something as ordinary as a train door is an important element of this story.