There are so many artists… Even more people with all sorts of talents… It scares me… It scares me that there are so many amazing individuals the world does not know about? Why? Why do they have to live a life of an unknown? Why some people, very often less talented, climb the ladder of success while the rest, more deserved of that place, have to live a lesser life? It looks like having a talent and knowing about it is just not enough to be out there. You have to make yourself visible. You can’t be famous or even appreciated if the world doesn’t know about your existence. Death is the last scream your personality makes before it vanishes forever. I mean, even if you get all the ovations you can get, but you are still dead, what is it good for? You either make it on time, or it doesn’t matter… Unless you dream about some fame after your departure to another life. The one thing that scares me even more is not finding your real talent before it’s too late, or ever at all. I am genuinely scared of living my life the wrong way. ” Remember, the saddest thing in life is wasted talent. You could have all the talent in the world, but if you don’t do the right thing, then nothing happens. ” – A Bronx Tale (1993)
” Every place has got a history behind it… Every mark has got its own meaning… but WHAT THE FOCK HAS HAPPENED HERE~?! Oh well, it must have been something if I had taken out my camera and took some shots of it, right? Damn right it is something ~!! It might not be the most cosy place you could have imagined, but I am still in a strong opinion that it is a beautiful and unique view. In a world where everything strives to be perfect, nice and spotless… this stands out and shouts in your face… FUCK YOU AND YOUR PERFECT WORLD MATE~!! And you know what…? I like it. I love it. I just wish I could see and experience every single moment that has scarred this place with its own uniqueness. I would love to feel that anger, hate, love, excitement and everything else that has caused this place to look the way it looks now. It is truly a rare view nowadays… It might not be the prettiest, it doesn’t try to be something it is not, I agree… but it feels real… Real enough to keep you wonder about the rest of the world packed with lies and masks that try to cover your eyes with something that is not really there… So if you ask me, what do I see in this wretched place? My answer would be… Everything that you cannot my dear… because your eyes are not used to see what is real any more. Every single mark is connected to a strong emotional feeling that has occurred at some point in past. It almost feels like a giant raw database, a CD full of music you cannot really hear, a pack of files on a memory stick you cannot read… A secret message that is not to be decoded or understood… merely felt and forgotten… “
Original Street Artist: Anna Matuszewska in association with Galeria Sztuki 58, Radom.
” A face full of scars, eyes filled with tears and a heart shattered by thousands of unfulfilled and broken dreams… Still looking up, still… searching for light. Another dream, another failure… pain… another scar to patch up. Living deep down, below in darkness, almost at the bottom… not low enough to bounce back and regain control, drifting… A soul so battered and ripped apart, it scares with all the hollows, echoes and ever-tearing stitches. Tears changing into pus, life shifting gracefully into a coma… a blissful lethargy, slowly taking everything away. There’s no fight, not anymore, only compliance. Awakening, again. Another vision, another hope. Looking in the mirror, still deformed… unsightly. Nothing has changed, nothing ever does… Euphoria, enlightenment, hope, happiness, enchantment, love… Taking a razor blade, a short glance at a shiny frail piece of steel, time to fail once again. Cutting the soft flesh of own face… warm red liquid covers all. Look, another broken dream… another chance for a new life, another distraction, another mark. A white cloth takes a place of a fresh and swollen wound, I can still feel… I can still dream. What have I become… Will I ever succeed, and start living before I am finally gone… ? “
” Somewhere deep in a city, there is an area, nobody visits… All surrounding buildings have been demolished, but this one… was left alone. People say, once you go inside this place, you never come back the same. Nobody believes those stories, right? Me neither, so I have decided to check this mysterious leftovers of a building. The whole thing felt wrong from the very beginning. There were plenty of different warehouses, shops and garages around, but none of them were moderately close to the ruin. The area has been sealed off with a high fence, but I have managed to get inside. All ground entries have been either boarded or walled up, and the ones that haven’t, were leading straight to the basement… Pardon my lack of bravery, but it is not a story of a heroic knight, and certainly… this path did not suit me well. I had to find another way in. After closer examination, I have found a way to get inside. A partially boarded door, was kind enough to let me squeeze in. The moment I got into it, a foul stench hit my nostrils like a hammer. It wasn’t an animal, it was something quite different… I was swiftly making my way between halls and rooms, trying not to make any noise at the same time. It was rather hard to achieve, considering all the rubble and glass lying around. The sun was getting inside, lighting most of the interior, for which I was unbelievably grateful. Unfortunately, my bright yellow friend could not reach some parts of the building, leaving it dark and black like a coal. I was trying to avoid those devilish parts as best as I could, I was only a visitor, I did not want to wake up something unholy here… When I reached a staircase, I took a brief glance downstairs and I wish I hadn’t… The pitch black madness was only a few steps away from my shoes, a cold touch went through my whole body, almost pushing me off balance. I made my way up, quicker than a cat chased by a dog. Once again, I was moving swiftly between different rooms and corridors, exploring everything thoroughly… everything that was in light that is. The paint which was coming off the walls and ceilings, was creating weird shapes and patterns, hanging like venomous creatures, trying to reach you. Soon, I have found an interesting room, full of documents and books of some sort, the musty sweet smell was making me feel sick, but I wanted to know what they are. The moment I opened one of them with my foot, I heard something behind me, something I cannot describe with words. It sounded like a cry of a baby dying or some animal being ripped in half. Needlessly to say, I turned around immediately, not sure what I will see… but I saw nothing. Suddenly, I have lost all the interest in further exploring. I didn’t want to stay in this building any longer, I had captured some photographs and decided it will have to be enough. I was trying to make my way back to the staircase as fast as I could, but the corridors… they looked different… I did not know which turn to take in any of them. After few seconds, or maybe minutes, I wasn’t walking anymore, I was running, trying to find the way out. That sound again, I didn’t know where it came from… I was standing, paralysed by fear, I wanted to move… but my legs were not responding. Again, the howl of something dying in agony, struck me like a thunder, I could move again. I ran and ran, it could be seconds, maybe minutes, but it felt like an eternity before I reached the stairway. I was dashing down, praying that my foot don’t step on some rubble in all this rush, but something far worse has happened… Once again, I was standing frozen, with cold sweat running down my body… The darkness from the basement, was just a few steps down from me… How? I have not even reached the ground floor… I have slowly started moving upstairs again, pushing my back against the wall, shaking… When I got back on the top floor, the sun was not reaching anywhere, anymore… Despite of broken windows and an early afternoon, everything was dimmed and dark, there was nowhere to go… not without going through the complete darkness. I cringed in a corner of the staircase, afraid to take another step. I heard it again… the agony, cry, howl and screaming in pain… but this time, it came from the very next room, the foul stench was present again… I closed my eyes, in hope that it’s only a bad dream, and once I open them, I will wake up in my bed. After a while, I opened them, I was still inside the building, but it all seemed to be back to normal. The sun was shining through the broken windows and I could hear ambient sounds coming from the outside. Without much thinking, I made my way out of the building, as fast as I possibly could. It took me days, before I could ease my mind… After a few weeks, I recalled about the photographs I had taken. I connected my camera, and a threatening chill went down my spine again… There was only one… The one, I did not take… “
” Sometimes, I have a feeling we are living on the different side of a glass. Busy with our lives, we cannot spot the glass which is in front of us. Our daily routines, successfully keep us occupied, blind, unaware. Some people are trying to see what is hiding behind all this, but even with a small hole, it is hard to see the big picture. What is the life trying to hide from us, why we are not able to see, what is really happening behind the curtain of lies. We know something isn’t right, but we cannot exactly point what it is. It feels like a dream, from which we cannot wake up. We can feel strings controlling us, yet we cannot see them. We try to get a grip with our lives, but someone else is trying to do the same and interrupt us. Should we try to smash the glass and see what is on the other side… or perhaps, we should go along with it, and see where it may lead us… One thing is sure, we are living inside of invisible walls, the prison we cannot see nor touch… “