Drip…drip…drip… about a gentle drizzle

A couple of weeks ago I received a letter from one of my friends and I’m still deeply confused by the words she used there. Her answer to my questions about poverty and social injustice was: “In my opinion I have the moral right to ignore that people die due to starvation”. I still can’t believe that I read these words and, what is more, I can’t stop thinking about them. They made me sick as I deeply disagree with this. Obviously many times I think that I can’t change the World as I’m powerless and nothing depends on me. Obviously many times I blindly follow a simple excuse: “what can we do” and I focus on my life, my reality, me. Fortunately, when I start to be selfish someone reminds me how lucky I am having everything I have, someone shows me that even if we have nothing to give we still have something to share with others: our compassion, our time and ourselves. When I start to believe that I’m unable to do anything someone says the words of “Grace”.

Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound,

That saved a wretch like me.

I once was lost but now am found,

Was blind, but now I see.

How many of you know how this hymn was created? John Newton wrote the words during a storm on Atlantic, when he was engaged in the Atlantic Slave Trade.  This practice was finally abolished in Britain in 1807. It couldn’t be done if one man - William Wilberforce – had thought one day: “I have a moral right to ignore…” but fortunately “his morality” didn’t give him this right…

William Wilberforce’s battle for the Slave Trade Act is shown beautifully in the “Amazing Grace” film. It tells the story about the passion and compassion, believing not only in God but, the first of all, in goodness and humanity. You will finish watching this film in tears… but also with a deep belief that you can see…

John Newton: "I once was blind but now I see". Didn't I write that?

William Wilberforce:  Yes, you did.

John Newton: Now at last it's true.

Do you really think that you have any "moral right" to ignore…? If you see you can’t stay indifferent… you have to make a difference “with gentle drizzle, not storms. Drip. Drip. Drip”. 

Look around. Think. Act.

Arty Bunny

"They forget that Jesus was politically incorrect from beginning to end"

I hope that you will find my unique Easter cards interesting... even if they are not politically correct...

Perfectly perfect

A friend of mine has posted today on his blog: “No more hiding from the truth: externally, I am repulsive, sickening, and that's a shame because really, I am quite a nice bloke.” His sentence has helped me to turn my anger and frustration into words rather than tears… So please find my story.

Externally I am shy, insecure and wordless, and that’s a shame because really I am quite an experienced, confident and smart person. I had an interview today. This meeting was divided into 3 parts. The first was a group task with other candidates. We were invited to a board room. This scene recalled me “The Apprentice” but rather than Lord Sugar we met there four quite nice interviewers. The task was a very basic and standard group exercise. Anyone who took part in a couple of serious interviews or was a student of any psychology related faculty knows this kind of exercise when a group of people has to imagine that they survive after the plane/ship/bus/whatever accident on the planet/moon/land/forest/whenever. They can take from the board only 5/10/15/however many items and then they need to prioritize the usability of these items individually then with the rest of the group. In the interviewers’ opinion I had good ideas but I was too shy to force them. Probably they were right. I was surrounded by 9 other desperate candidates who were ready to fight for the position. And they fought in English (btw, all of them were White British). I had to struggle not only with them but also with my language skills. Of course, it is not any excuse, but on the other hand I was brave enough to say loudly my point of view and I was smart enough to find another person who thought the same in order to have an ally. Does it really mean that I am too shy? Looking back, two of the items were finally chosen by the rest of the group in the order that I had suggested to them which was not bad, I believe. I wasn’t a fighter, it’s true. But in my opinion, communication is not a fight but it is a skill of listening to each other and understanding. Never mind, in the interviewers’ opinion I was too shy. Fair enough.

The next task was an individual exercise in Word and Excel. My Excel skills were rated quite high which was nice, especially because it was a very thorough task. What made me terribly frustrated was the interviewers’ opinion that an email written by me in Word wasn’t perfect. Obviously it wasn’t! FFS! They had invited for the interview a person who has been for 3 years in the UK, and so what had they expected?! But the most ridiculous thing was that they asked us to write an email to a person who didn’t reply to the previous messages. Neither this person responded to the emails from another member of staff. Of course I wrote the email as requested but I also emphasized that if this kind of situation happened I would rather call the person to check what’s going on. The interviewers said that it was the most appropriate answer for this task, and that I had been the only one person who had thought out of the box… but my email wasn’t perfect enough. My question now is: what’s the point of sending another bloody email, even perfectly perfect written and pray for an answer rather than simply call the person and ask to sort the problem out?

Externally I am shy, insecure and wordless, and that’s a shame because really I am quite an experienced, confident and smart person. Even if the third task remains mystery for me as they thanked me already at this stage, I need to remember that the word FEAR this time, as a thousand of times before, means to me Face Everything And Rise rather than Fuck Everything And Run… even if I really was close to run away…

Try to be a White Other… what is more, try to be an ambitious White Other… be so determined to use a foreign language even at home where is no need to do so... be so strong to cross your own limits a thousand of times destroying completely your comfort zone…  then send me your perfectly perfect email…

Private show

On Sunday morning I was sitting breathless and in tears in my kitchen. In my kitchen I curled up myself on an uncomfortable chair like a kitten. Like a kitten I hugged a warm radiator next to the chair and, as I started to ignore it, I burned myself. I burned myself in the poems recited by Jo Twist - "a queer, mentalist, ex-self-harming, ex-bulimic, ex-druggie, suicide-attempt-surviving, anarchist, punk, atheist, green, green-haired, make-up-wearing, cross-dressing, alcoholic, vegan artist living on benefits and having a laugh" as he is introduced in an anthology "Poems To Read [Before U Die]". I burned myself in the words said by Jo - my dearest Jo, who has chosen me to be his secret-ally. 

On Sunday morning, in my kitchen, sharing the same shade of African green on our hair and surrounded by the smell of a vegan meal which I had prepared for lunch we did his rehearsal for his performance. My wooden spoon, which my Dad gave me after one of his trips to Zakopane (the place in my country where Jo has never been and, I believe, he has never heard about) was his mic that morning. We went through his poems and short speeches between them, the beginning and the end of his planned performance. As a PR specialist I would have liked to be on help... but he closed my mouth by his words dripping from his lips; he wetted my eyes with his blood, his scabs, his flesh; he let me believe that I was 41...

I am 41
In hospital
On the Brandon Unit.
Staring out the window
At an unseeing skyline,
With Jezza in the background, cursing bad parents,
With a book in my lap
I can’t understand.

I am 41
In hospital
On the Brandon Unit.
Locked away with 30 other mentalists.
Threatened with being sectioned
If I try and leave.
With an EDL member in my face.

I am 41
In hospital
On the Brandon Unit.
With 15 stitches
Itching in my left wrist.
With a piece of metal
Implanted in my left wrist.

I am 41
In hospital
On the Brandon Unit.
With prescription drugs leaving my body.
With no sleep for 6 days and nights.
With visions of skulls and swastikas in my head.

I am 41
In hospital
On The Brandon Unit.
With one can of cheap, weak lager
For a Christmas present.

I am 41
In hospital
On the Brandon Unit.
I am being born.
[Jo Twist, Poems To Read Before U Die, 2012 Showcase  Smoothie]

On Tuesday evening, on Ping...K!, as the featured performing poet's secret-ally I tried to be more professional but I was shaking as Jo's performance was very intense and touching. Despite the fact that the lights were on and he used the proper mic I saw him in my kitchen... and I was proud... proud to be chosen to be an one person audience...

Thank you Jo, NOW, and HERE, and AGAIN now...

My love children

With my last breath

I breathe into your mouth.

As we lie together now

So we will lie together forever

Tho our fresh flesh rot away

And our bones be stones.

Each others' arms will be each others' tomb.

As we stare the last time

Into each others' eyes

And the see the light fade

So will the white light grow

And we will go down the tunnel,

Without heaven or hell,

Into the absolute of one another.

With my last breath

I breathe into your mouth.

[Jo Twist, With my last breath]

I don't know you but I want you
All the more for that
Words fall through me and always fool me
And I can't react
And games that never amount
To more than they're meant
Will play themselves out

Take this sinking boat and point it home
We've still got time
Raise your hopeful voice you have a choice
You make it now

Falling slowly, eyes that know me
And I can't go back
Moods that take me and erase me
And I'm painted black
You have suffered enough
And warred with yourself
It's time that you won

Take this sinking boat and point it home
We've still got time
Raise your hopeful voice you have a choice

You've made it now
Falling slowly sing your melody
I'll sing it loud

I paid the cost too late
Now you're gone
[Glen Hansard, Falling Slowly, from Once Soundtrack]

Do not tell me to keep calm

Last Friday the Polish Parliament rejected three proposed draft bills giving civil partnership rights to heterosexual and homosexual couples. All three proposals, presented by three different parties did not grant couples in civil partnerships the same rights as married couples, even though there was no majority in the Parliament to pass any of these projects. Therefore Polish modern couples, who live together without being married, have to face problems in their lives, from tax returns through to receiving health information or inheritance rights. The most ridiculous thing is that they can move to another European country such as the UK and sign their civil partnership documents without any problems, as Poland is a member of the European Union. This shows that Polish law is unable to keep up with changes in society.

Unfortunately it wasn’t the worst thing which happened on Friday in Poland. In the House of Parliament one of the deputies, Krystyna Pawłowicz, said: "Society cannot finance structures and institutions, which do not allow society to last." She used the words: “useless” and “idle” regarding homosexuals, which sounded like a joke while it was said by a 60 years old single woman without any children. However this was no joke.

It is hard to believe that a member of the government is allowed to say something so offensive without taking any formal responsibility for this. The Polish government works in this way, I’m afraid. Once a minister offended a prostitute by saying that she, as being a prostitute, was unable to be raped… These kind of outrageous phrases are still said publicly.

The situation devastated me as for me it is no less than breaking Human Rights, which shouldn’t take place in a civilized country. It made me deeply sad as I know that for a lot of Polish young, smart, well educated professionals it’s an additional reason to leave their country and choose another place where they can live more comfortably, even as strangers. It alarmed me as this problem is not a battle between modernity and tradition or a young and old generation but it is a fight for basic human rights – the right to live worthily. A society is sick if their members are unable to tolerate each other with regards to the basic differences like another life style or sexual preferences… it makes me sick to observe that the Polish government simply do nothing to reduce the differences and make us, as a Polish society, more united.

As Pawłowicz said: "Society cannot finance structures and institutions, which do not allow society to last." My dear gay friends… do not worry… I’m more idle and useless than you are. I’m childless AND an emigrant so I am destroying Polish society in two ways.  What is more, I’m ashamed and embarrassed because of the words which were spoken in our House of Parliament and I’m standing against them… I won’t keep calm and drink tea…

increase of cases

infection is very

unpleasant but it is short-lived and most

people recover in a couple of days

everyone has a right

to respect for family life 

(article 8 of European convention of human rights)

How to change the pattern

It takes more than average confidence to break this

pattern. You have to tackle it as a habit: in small ways

in safe situations. Build up a strong attitude, work out

a strategy and get your friends and family to reinforce

you. It's not you that's bad, it's your response to the

situation. Being passive may have worked for you as a

child, but it doesn't work now, and it's time to change.

Pay for your

everyday life

till death do us part

The weightiness of the Oscar Award

The special moments always come surprisingly. 

It was an ordinary evening, after dinner I had a choice between staying at home and reading a book or going to cinema. It was dark, freezing and snowing outside so I was very close to choose my sofa but finally I overcame my inner “His Lazyness”  and decided to go out. There was a special screening of an independent film “Zaytoun” which I found attractive due to the plot and an announced meeting with the producer. 

When we reached the cinema, the hall was packed with people holding their mobiles. “Oh, God Almighty” – I thought – “The Orange Wednesday offer! I’m not happy waiting in this huge queue for the film which is likely not the best, even if the story is interesting and important!” But finally we decided to stay, as we had already left the flat, leaving its cosiness and warmth. We bought the tickets and climbed to the highest level of the cinema complex. In the screening room we met other 12, maybe 15 people.

“Zaytoun” is a story with the historical and political backgrounds from the Middle East. It shows a group of children, Palestinian refugee, who live in a Beirut camp, Lebanon in 1982. In their school class more and more chairs are empty as their school mates die due to warfare. One of the boys, Fahed, loses his Dad, what makes him angry and bloodthirsty. Therefore he practices hard to be a Palestinian soldier as he believes that his duty is to fight back his Dad’s land, which that time is occupied by Israel. One day his steps cross with an Israeli fighter pilot, possibly one who took part in the attack when Fahed’s dad was killed… it’s the beginning of a meaningful trip and a symbolical relationship.

This film touches me deeply as it shows that our personal losses and fears can lead to blind cruelty. It makes me sick and sad as it shows that people fight against each other forgetting that we all are humans who have rights not only to live but also to live worthily. It also makes me laugh when it shows the friendship with all of it ups and downs… and the ups are very often quite funny. :)

The topics discussed in the film are terribly difficult but we need to face them. We – as mankind – can’t be blind to the cruelty and horrors which are the reality in the other parts of the World. As long as we are humans, ALL human’s issues should deeply bother us.  

After the screening we were lucky to talk to Gareth Unwin – the producer of this particular film as well as “The King’s Speech”, which brought him the Oscar award. He made us more familiar with his productions by answering our questions and talk to us in very informal and friendly way. We discussed the challenges of the independent cinema. He even mentioned that he had to finance himself significant part of the “Zaytoun’s” budget… let’s bear in mind that the whole amount was 8mln dollars!  He let us hold his Oscar Statue. I took it gently and I was surprised how heavy it was… as a burden to bear, when you have to choose between producing commercial, mainstream propaganda or opening eyes to the truth. 

Dear Mr. Unwin, please, keep opening my eyes, don’t let me stay blind, insensitive and idle… even if this burden is much heavier than your Oscar Statue… Because of this award you are obliged to do so. I believe that you know and understand the weightiness of the Oscar. I’m ready to promise not to stay on my cosy sofa, even if it is dark, freezing and snowing outside… 

We no longer need theory...