Paris / 2018
Paris / 2018

Medinilla magnifica, Lilium candidum
and a metal paper clip

Warsaw / 2018
Warsaw / 2018

Metrosideros excelsa, Papaver somniferum,
Hippeastrum amaryllidaceae and a rubber band

Woodstock / 2018
Woodstock / 2018

Nepenthes alata, Lathyrus odoratus,
Iris germanica, gaffer tape and rubber bands

New York / 2018
New York / 2018

Lilium orientalis, Aloe ferox, Sansevieria kirkii,
gaffer tape, a twine and a metal bottle cork

New York / 2018
New York / 2018

Cotinus coggygria, Iris germanica, gaffer tape,
metal paper clips and rubber bands

Roses for Mother
Roses for Mother

Everything stands in order:
roses are for mother,
fists are for strangers.

But after that, it gets complicated:

there are more capitols than the countries in the world,
everything has its limits,
love ends,
mind wanders aimlessly,
colours blend with the distance,
my dog seems to be smiling
to any blue eyes that look like yours.

Selected images from this series,
are available in a form of fine art prints.

See more!

Roses for Mother
Roses for Mother

There is a Polish catchphrase that says you can get infected by someone else’s optimism.

I don’t know if maybe I was born optimistic, or I slowly learned that from my mother. She knows how to find positive angle to every situation; even when it’s grey and raining outside, she will say: what a beautiful downpour! We are divided by 6000 miles. What connects us, is the optimism and the postcards I sent to her while I travel. She can’t join me, although I would love to take her everywhere with me. It is she who taught me how to be curious. A part of her is still pushing me forward and in return, I send her fragments of what I see.

This particular project is mine and mine alone. I work just by myself. I collect the branches and flowers, arrange them in silence. The branches snap, the flowers bend and die, rubbers brake, tapes can’t hold the construction, things fall apart before I even manage to take a picture. I sit there, painstakingly working on every composition and I never forget who told me to believe that everything is possible.

I would love to show my mum all the capitols of the world and more. Before I do this, I’ve got postcards and flowers. Roses for Mother.

Selected images from this series,
are available in a form of fine art prints.

See more!

Paris / 2018
Warsaw / 2018
Woodstock / 2018
New York / 2018
New York / 2018
Roses for Mother
Roses for Mother
Paris / 2018

Medinilla magnifica, Lilium candidum
and a metal paper clip

Warsaw / 2018

Metrosideros excelsa, Papaver somniferum,
Hippeastrum amaryllidaceae and a rubber band

Woodstock / 2018

Nepenthes alata, Lathyrus odoratus,
Iris germanica, gaffer tape and rubber bands

New York / 2018

Lilium orientalis, Aloe ferox, Sansevieria kirkii,
gaffer tape, a twine and a metal bottle cork

New York / 2018

Cotinus coggygria, Iris germanica, gaffer tape,
metal paper clips and rubber bands

Roses for Mother

Everything stands in order:
roses are for mother,
fists are for strangers.

But after that, it gets complicated:

there are more capitols than the countries in the world,
everything has its limits,
love ends,
mind wanders aimlessly,
colours blend with the distance,
my dog seems to be smiling
to any blue eyes that look like yours.

Selected images from this series,
are available in a form of fine art prints.

See more!

Roses for Mother

There is a Polish catchphrase that says you can get infected by someone else’s optimism.

I don’t know if maybe I was born optimistic, or I slowly learned that from my mother. She knows how to find positive angle to every situation; even when it’s grey and raining outside, she will say: what a beautiful downpour! We are divided by 6000 miles. What connects us, is the optimism and the postcards I sent to her while I travel. She can’t join me, although I would love to take her everywhere with me. It is she who taught me how to be curious. A part of her is still pushing me forward and in return, I send her fragments of what I see.

This particular project is mine and mine alone. I work just by myself. I collect the branches and flowers, arrange them in silence. The branches snap, the flowers bend and die, rubbers brake, tapes can’t hold the construction, things fall apart before I even manage to take a picture. I sit there, painstakingly working on every composition and I never forget who told me to believe that everything is possible.

I would love to show my mum all the capitols of the world and more. Before I do this, I’ve got postcards and flowers. Roses for Mother.

Selected images from this series,
are available in a form of fine art prints.

See more!

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