- Joined
- Jan 21, 2024
- Messages
- 142
- Thread Author
- #1
Art is one of the foundational things that keeps us unique as people.Still life, portrait, caricatures; paintings, music, poetry, all of these things separate us from one another, but give us similarities.
So, where do I stand?
My name is Bożena Kowalczyk. Often times, people can't pronounce it.. but I don't mind; it's what helps me stand out from the rest.
Artistic traits, that's my thing. Everything that has anything to do with expression, is where I center around. My face doesn't work right.. It doesn't smile when it's supposed to, it doesn't look sad, or happy, it looks straight. I can't fix my face, but that's why I substitute it with paintings.
Is it.. paint?
Chords, melodies, and vocals. Music is a sweet thing, it feels right to put how I feel into something that sounds nice. A soft melody which can emphasize my sadness. Whether it's in loss, gain, or.. indifference, there are so many instruments, sounds, and songs that can explain how I feel. Something so special, and what I can't show through my voice, my body, or my facial expression.
Importance of routine,
your uniform, hair, face,
all to be kept clean.
Wake up, early in the day,
shower, brush, comb,
your look is your relay.
I couldn't think of anything more than that. I've always been taught the importance of keeping routine,
and I've appreciated it, routines just make sense. Brush your hair and your teeth. Wash, dry, and iron your uniform nightly. Wash your body, hands, and face. The ultimate goal was to keep yourself presentable. Positive presentation always gave you better chances; so they say. I followed because I can't stand the thought of being dirty.
The process was always long, it took time to do, but it was something that's still necessary to this day. I've never complained about it, not that my voice would do much to change anything. Not that I would want to change anything, the process keeps me at peace. My hair has to be pulled back, with bangs sticking out the front, anything else isn't me.
My clothes are constantly getting messy, in which they are constantly getting cleaned. The feeling of grime and gunk on my clothes makes me freak out. My teeth are regularly brushed, nightly. It's hard not to take pride in my cleanliness, but it's also hard to express that pride in ways other than painting it on a canvas.
Policja, those who go out of their way to instill fear even on the smallest of people. Hungry for power, yet still human inside. Behind the mask has always been unknown to me, I can't seem to find out whether or not they're even people.. But I'll assume they are.
They expect Formality. Formality, is a specific process, a routine even. If an Officer addresses you, there are a few things to follow. Stand up straight, don't look them in the face, show manners. 'Sir' is always how I speak to them, though slipping up sometimes and saying officer gets my head spinning.
It's told to speak quietly, as if an officer can hear your conversation, you're being inconsiderate to the people around you. I don't mind this rule; my ears have always been sensitive to certain things, which makes hearing loud sounds, sometimes hurt. Too many voices in one area makes me anxious, but I can often push through.
NEVER undermine authority. If someone tells you to do something, you do it. I don't often have trouble with this, it isn't that hard to listen to the orders given to me.
A strange piece of me that I've grown to like. Sure, I marked over it to make it look more like the world that I see around me, but it's still strangely candid to who I am.
The picture was taken back in my old city, by one of my closer friends at the time. He was a nicer person, quiet, similar to me. Though he was really into mechanical mumbo-jumbo that I could never really understand. He'd talk and talk about it, and I'd listen just to make him feel appreciated.
I think appreciation is an important thing. If I didn't feel appreciated, I wouldn't keep working on art. I wouldn't really do anything, if I didn't know I was appreciated. At least.. someone lets me know that.
People are art
A scarier woman, one who 'served' for their City.
Something in such bravery, I couldn't imagine doing.
I told her, she reminded me of a ferret. A social creature, she is.
He's strange to me, not in a bad way though. A former dissident,
something I never thought could be someone's title; but I'm happy he's
free from that label. He's genuinely a nice person.
In all honesty, he's not someone I like. He speaks about things that will
get people killed, and I don't like that. I enjoy our unimportant conversations,
I'm just scared of what will happen to us if someone hears him talking about it.
Someone who'd ended up being the sweetest man I'd ever met. His attentiveness, even if it pulled him away from his work, lead him into my arms. I'd never liked hugs, but he was the exception. He's teaching me to smile more, even if he doesn't know it. Smiling has always been hard for me, but now that he's around, and we're living outside of the walls, it's simply who he is that pushes me forward. I promise, I'll stay by your side forever, Vin.
Surely, I'll be able to paint more people in my life.
Last edited:
