Tylko różne jest podobne. Opowiadanie to fikcja, każde. Each speech.
As they were gone I speeded up. I scattered a handful of grains; they rang on a board with a torso, it’s from the performance in Wegajty ‘can I take your shadow ?’
After, in the hotel, I wrote:
..speeding: «It’s a swindle! We’re waiting for next square!»
«There isn’t any swindle, only meeting» I answer listening: ..Wegajty..
«Is your father’ name day? Mine too. Stanislaw?»
A boy with a paper aircraft. He waited for me to look at him and he started talking with me.
A little girl, listening, and asked him about me ‘What is he doing?’: «Painting.».
And a very little girl, no words.
A man: «..that’s why they are the rulers» – he said after I told him the Hindu story.
[I had a plan to stop my acting, I was happy, was content – but, I came back to the Gallery and was told the Piotrkow girls Basia and Asia’ got lost, they mistook the place of my action and «Absolutely – they said – tomorrow we would be right».
So a mistake became a finding.]
Second day I swept, so.
Someone came, a fellow. For a cigarette.
At the farewell: «Have a nice day!» I wished him.
But he: «A day today is […]» and my notice was unreadable, it rained I wrote any day whatever was hurry.
«Well, it is needed to dance» I said, and he went himself.
Then I gave an inscription, in English:
Przedmioty nie istnieją Wszystko jest myślą Ale to nie wszystko
And then Basia and Asia came. We went to sight some of Piotrkow. They were very proud of it.
So I found a fountain. In a museum there is a mock-up of the city. The fountain has been in the place where I chose for my ‘exercises..’. The fountain or rather a pool, is like a stone bath. Probably, there has been a market in this place and water was needed there.
Second day, some of the artists indulged themselves in some discussion about why they were disgraced over and over again.
The discussion would be published by the INTERAKCJE committee maybe so I over looked to say more. Kamil Sipowicz, one of those with the feeling of disgraced and a protagonist of the discussion, said suddenly: «..interface..». I lent an ear, the interfaces! The interfaces, because as McLuhan lived in the propagators era as he told about the messengers. Meanwhile, the world knew the emulators.
[Thank you, Wei :] for correcting of my English. I know, you like my 'poetic English' but the correct is the right :] Well, me likes it too. So,
it
[to be continued]As they were gone I speeded up. I scattered a handful of grains; they rang on a board with a torso, it’s from the performance in Wegajty ‘can I take your shadow ?’
After, in the hotel, I wrote:
..speeding: «It’s a swindle! We’re waiting for next square!»
«There isn’t any swindle, only meeting» I answer listening: ..Wegajty..
«Is your father’ name day? Mine too. Stanislaw?»
A boy with a paper aircraft. He waited for me to look at him and he started talking with me.
A little girl, listening, and asked him about me ‘What is he doing?’: «Painting.».
And a very little girl, no words.
A man: «..that’s why they are the rulers» – he said after I told him the Hindu story.
[I had a plan to stop my acting, I was happy, was content – but, I came back to the Gallery and was told the Piotrkow girls Basia and Asia’ got lost, they mistook the place of my action and «Absolutely – they said – tomorrow we would be right».
So a mistake became a finding.]
Second day I swept, so.
Someone came, a fellow. For a cigarette.
At the farewell: «Have a nice day!» I wished him.
But he: «A day today is […]» and my notice was unreadable, it rained I wrote any day whatever was hurry.
«Well, it is needed to dance» I said, and he went himself.
Then I gave an inscription, in English:
Przedmioty nie istnieją Wszystko jest myślą Ale to nie wszystko
And then Basia and Asia came. We went to sight some of Piotrkow. They were very proud of it.
So I found a fountain. In a museum there is a mock-up of the city. The fountain has been in the place where I chose for my ‘exercises..’. The fountain or rather a pool, is like a stone bath. Probably, there has been a market in this place and water was needed there.
Second day, some of the artists indulged themselves in some discussion about why they were disgraced over and over again.
The discussion would be published by the INTERAKCJE committee maybe so I over looked to say more. Kamil Sipowicz, one of those with the feeling of disgraced and a protagonist of the discussion, said suddenly: «..interface..». I lent an ear, the interfaces! The interfaces, because as McLuhan lived in the propagators era as he told about the messengers. Meanwhile, the world knew the emulators.
[Thank you, Wei :] for correcting of my English. I know, you like my 'poetic English' but the correct is the right :] Well, me likes it too. So,
it
Photo: Ko Siu LanOn Marshall McLuhan:
http://www.marshallmcluhan.com/downloads/ballad_of_marshall_mcluhan.mp3
