10 November 2008. Sun at dawn, clouds moving in. Yesterday: a solitary crow hopping from curb to street--morning light. Or Lila and her husband, sitting together side by side on low Nepalese bench (its legs still wrapped in shipping paper) positioned at the very front of their doorway...backs to the sun, drinking tea...
Warszawa, 1968, appearing miraculously under the name Hanna Ptaszkowska. The Galeria Foksal, with Henryk Stazewski propped on the floor, holding forth to a gathering of young people. That's Hanna herself, just behind, and Prorok (Prophet), the leader of a group (the only group?) of Polish hippies, his rabbit pelt vest--an investment in the era. Unknown girl to his right, too tall for Gabryela. Likewise the gaunt type leaning on edge of door. Myself, with pipe, tip of rapidograph pen, drawing...
Spotkanie...
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