Second Thoughts



The first time I went there I was looking for the desert. I went due to chance connections. Poland just kept appearing here and there - a conversation with someone you haven’t got to know yet still he feels familiar, fiction you’re exposed to, M. and her upstairs neighbour we called The Polish Prince. Long-mental-distance travel, the ideal of lost remembrance, of my own fictionalised story and past, a place that belonged to me though I had never been there before. Just then, April, I remember getting off the plane and seeing those big red letters that made me feel dizzy as if, not knowing how, something very weird was happening - WARSZAWA. I took pictures with my old Paxette: she told me in colours, light and shapes what I was actually seeing there, what my eye truly thought of the whole thing - she made a fiction documentary out of a real experience - and this I call, most erratically, reality. So, has it been just a sequel now? I know better than that, I thought. Getting even with my teenage upheavals. Trying to come to terms with my vision of the world in days of pretty bad turmoil. Those all-male theoretical issues appeared before me with all their power and anxiety, they spoke to me as something I could no longer skip in my personal train of thought. And I have got no answers yet, nor do I expect to get them in the future, I’m just trying to talk about the state of things: three episodes of contemporary Western history (no escape) – the beginning of World War II, the Nazi regime and its Final Solution, the fall of Communism in Europe. All of them having taken place in Poland. In the desert the image is made. Go there to be immersed in a still urgent, screaming, unsolved dilemma - what to live after the modern project has been liquidated; what is happening with “culture”; which is the current state of discourse; what is that we want/need to forget and what is that we want/need to remember. Just take a deep breath: it is here and now, you have landed in the most inappropriate question – keep it human.