about this blog

This was supposed to be my website. I was supposed to put my works on it (the ones I get paid for). I’ve bought it years ago and never finished it. It’s a story of endless beginnings. But then, I find that I spend half of my energies in hiding behind anonymity, professionalism, laziness, some sort of sobriety (which in fact is just a desire for invisibility), dryness, silence, preposterous notions of quality and usefulness which I apply to all things. Certain that critique and confrontation can kill. I must have lost my balls in the long run.

This is my attempt – awkward, slow and unskilled as it is – to show and not to report. It will be confused and messy. It will be arrogant and conceited and ostentatious, but also humble and meek and polite. It may even host pathetic and incompetent attempts at wittiness. It will contain lots of tragedy (which I can’t avoid, being a Slav). I don’t know whether I’ll ever try posting something useful I’ve learnt here and there. I’m no photographer, illustrator, or writer, so the whole lot can be labeled as “diversion, dilettantism, or diarrhoea“.

* “A tree that grows hearts” comes from Björk’s tune Bachelorette

I’m a fountain of blood
In the shape of a girl
You’re the bird on the brim
Hypnotised by the Whirl

Drink me, make me feel real
Wet your beak in the stream
Game we’re playing is life
Love is a two way dream

Leave me now, return tonight
Tide will show you the way
If you forget my name
You will go astray
Like a killer whale
Trapped in a bay

I’m a path of cinders
Burning under your feet
You’re the one who walks me
I’m your one way street

I’m a whisper in water
Secret for you to hear
You are the one who grows distant
When I beckon you near

Leave me now, return tonight
The tide will show you the way
If you forget my name
You will go astray
Like a killer whale
Trapped in a bay

I’m a tree that grows hearts
One for each that you take
You’re the intruder hand
I’m the branch that you break

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