#stasiuk

[fieriframes]

[5 images. A man standing in a kitchen. A person sitting at a table eating food. A close up of food on a table. A man standing next to a woman. A close up of a flower. Captions: (Indistinct radio transmissions) Pilot (Over radio): We're in position.Approaching drop. Stasiuk: (Over radio): Clear to proceed. ♪ Pilot: Copy We'll goone by one in rotation ♪ REMIND THEM ABOUT THE PERIMETER.]

[noosphe-re]

I always wanted to write a book about light. I never could find anything else more reminiscent of eternity. I never was able to imagine things that don’t exist. That always seemed a waste of time to me, just like the stubborn search for the Unknown, when only ever ends up looking like an assemblage of old, familiar things in slightly souped-up form. Events and objects either come to an end, or perish, or collapse under their own weight, and if I observe them and describe them it’s only because they refract the brightness, shape it, and give it a form that we’re capable of comprehending.

Andrzej Stasiuk, Dukla

[polskie-zdania]

Dobrze jest żyć w krainach nieoczywistych, ponieważ ich granice zawierają w sobie więcej przestrzeni, niż wskazuje geografia. To są otchłanie nieznanego, to jest nieskończona dal domysłów, uciekający horyzont wyobrażeń i fatamorgana słodkich przesądów, którym nigdy nie sprosta rzeczywistość.

Andrzej Stasiuk “Jadąc do Babadag”

[cats-of-cairo]

Clearly I am drawn to decline, decay, to everything that is not as it could or should be. Whatever stops in half stride because it lacks the strength or will or imagination to continue. Whatever gives in, gives up, does not last, and leaves no trace. Whatever in its passing stirs no regret or reminiscence. The present imperfect. Histories that live no longer than the relating of them, objects that are only when someone regards them. This is what haunts me—this extra being that everyone can do without, this superfluity that is not wealth, this hiddenness that no one explores, secrets that, ignored, are lost forever, memory that consumes itself.

Andrzej Stasiuk - On the road to Babadag (trans. Michael Kandel)

[wysokieloty]

[noosphe-re]

I lack the imagination. For that reason I have to pack, stuff into my pockets odds and ends, passport, money, and go see what it's really like. Whenever the time of year or the weather changes, I have to pack up whatever I can't do without and visit all those places I've been before, to make sure they still exist

Andrzej Stasiuk, On the Road to Babadag: Travels in the Other Europe

[fieriframes]

[A person sitting on a table, caption: Tell them to approach from the west. Stasiuk: Lead Two, approachfrom the west.]

[wysokieloty]