Silence after Storm...

I went into my dad's empty house and saw perfection, in all of his hand-made things, furniture not matching to each other, in the blanket lying on the table instead of a tablecloth, his post-in notes, bizarre designs and projects. I saw a perfection in his processing of the world and how it communicates to me. I felt colonies of cells, used to sent to Siberia, returning back to me. Repudiation of someone was repudiation of myself. Something then burst inside of me, I felt the wind, deeper under my skin, how it blows directly towards my soul. I inherited a house close to forest, almost four-hectare garden, in mesmerizing meadows neighborhood. Within reach are pear and wild cherry trees, which I used to climb with my dad. I come from here, from the Karkonosze Mountains, I was brought up by these trees, meadows and the forest spirit. I am closer to me here.

/”Silence after Storm” is a story about a return, return to value, return to nature, to the importance. Primarily it’s a story about silence from the inwards, a gentle stream of thoughts, inside balance.