Pamiętnik.

The Diary was meant to hold fragments of the reality that surrounds me — the reality that built me. Its first element is a piece of architecture in red sandstone, a symbol of home. Life in Gdańsk's old town set a rhythm and sharpened desire — unable to resist her, I breathed the details she is made of.

The second episode is the "Foundation" on which the stone is set. It is not a poured block of concrete but a neat, plainly designed openwork structure. Its form suggests it was built over years, by generations — it is a support, a structural element.

"Navigation point." The next fragment was inspired by a voyage at sea. Sailing towards Klaipeda, two days from land, I watched a glow — the halo of a city. At night it looks like a closed lampshade; nearer, it splits into separate layers, like auras. In the sculpture it appears carved from a stone monolith, surrounded by a cast-iron shade, underlined by a drawing. This element is a symbol of purpose.

The penultimate form is "dinner" — machine-milled, it sets a contrast to the classic dish. The last element is the plexiglass that embraces the whole with its drawing — an outline. It closes the form, binding the fragments together into a barrier.