The more I write, the more I see that writing creates another writing.
I wrote this text on the 22nd of March, 2025. It was a usual day on which I met my beloved parents in Brok. My Father and I took a bicycle ride in Brok’s neighborhood villages. During this ride, I started to wonder about what I would write today. After all, I did not have any groundbreaking thoughts. It was a moment when I thought, not for the first time in my life, that it was the process of writing that counts. Going further, I thought that each writing creates another writing. That’s how the idea for this particular text appeared.
I have written it many times, but I still believe that if something is crucial for me, I should simply write about it.
Even if I do not have anything particular to write today, I still believe it is worth doing it, no matter the circumstances. Leaving behind written signs (letters) that can be deciphered hundreds or thousands of years after my death, perhaps even by alien civilizations (if they only exist, of course), is something worth doing. In books and written words, I trust. Also, it is much more convenient for me to gather my thoughts while writing rather than talking. I believe my writings lead me somewhere, even if I cannot precisely write where.
Do I plan to publish a book?
I do not have such a plan. Perhaps one hundred years after my death, Taschen will publish “Mazek Album” with photographs and some of my texts. I do not expect them to do it during my lifetime. I believe I still have many years ahead of me to create, that is, writing and photographs on Warsaw’s streets. For today, I am focusing on what I do the best, forgetting about fame, which is unnecessary to me.
