Book of the Wastelands
Kamil Sznajder & Hugo Kaszycki



On the shores, casks slowly lose their perfume, bleeding into the earth, into silence. Because what we were hunting after could not be discovered, because the mind’s life (threaded, unlike the heart’s, on a single strand) is fascinated by the knotted roots of things, we sought out fertile motions on sullen shores.

Any water that becomes a stream, flooding lands and muddying walls, any object which splinters into a million fragments at once, will someday stand stone-still and surrender to the quiet erosion, the soundless wind which rustles the pages of time.

Here on the wasted plains a faded flower suddenly blossoms out.

~ torre alain



BOOK OF THE WASTELANDS
1 April, 2021 | @sznajd.er | @huqoo0