The man in the photo studio told me that my film is long expired and there’s no point in scanning it.
But well, I like photographing on expired film. Mainly because you never know what you’ll get. When you finally see the photographs it’s nothing what you expected, nothing that you could remember – almost like the moment you captured on the photo has never happened. It feels like looking at your memories from a different perspective, something that is new but old at the same time.
A little bit like remembering something that you forgot a long time ago. That’s what I mainly like about the expired film.
We went to the biggest horse market in Poland without really knowing what to expect. When we arrived it was wet, cold and dark. We spent the night in a car, drifting off and waking up in a cramped, sweaty embrace, somehow very appropriate for the whole situation. Strange smells of animals, weird excitement in the air and the crowds of people in the middle of the cold night, it all built up something new, a strange, powerful energy.
To me the horse market meant a powerful energy, waking up my tired brain and giving no choice, but to participate, a crazy dance of men, horses and alcohol,
what’s better there in the world, than beautiful horses and beautiful women
and vodka, I guess,
and here’s what I saw, but maybe more, what I participated in, feeling like I’m placed in a very middle of a big chaos, something long awaited and wild.
If you happened to be a human, I think you should watch it
My old town, now a dusty memory.
Sometimes I dream about London and when I wake up I miss it’s colours and smells.
These ones are from my little medium format box I smuggled once into an office.
this one was a task: we went to a grey, muddy park with the colourful foils, supposed to show how we felt in that moment.
I don’t care much about the foils or about the park, these lamps don’t mean much to me either. But they somehow ended up on the pictures saying things about that day, things that grew into a different meaning and different day and reality, these colours became my glasses, my lenses I looked through, confusing, surreal, making that new meaning meaningful, disturbing, mine.
Just some people there and me, Sunday afternoon, doing other things than lying in bed, or on the sofa, I don’t really know.
I swallowed up what was around me and spat it out in some confused colours.