We opened a new space in the center of Warsaw!! To celebrate, we invited friends from all over the world. We are happy to have all of you, our dear artists, and Turnus lovers with us as we begin this new chapter.

"1. Stay or leave? It doesn’t matter. I’m looking at it from two angles. On the one hand, I think my presence is a good thing; maybe it can save the day. I’m interesting, sometimes even funny, and I fit in easily. On the other hand, I’m afraid of something else—I’m afraid I shouldn’t be here anymore and that I’m making a fool of myself. I console myself by thinking about the bigger picture: the universe is empty. Everything is distributed rather evenly throughout it; my departure won’t even be noticed.

2. Afternoon turned into evening, evening turned into night. The weather changed, as if someone had stitched together halves of different days. We were like a single machine, our beer-lubricated voices meshing perfectly—you couldn’t get a pin in between. A moment’s inattention, and a difficult topic crept in. I don’t remember what it was, but there was a crack. Then things changed, with ever-widening gaps between sentences, an excess of air in the mix. The people at the next table suddenly became irritatingly loud, downright unbearable. We were barely keeping things going, until finally we got stuck for good. Silence. Awkward? We’d manoeuvred ourselves into it. I don’t know if it was a sin of neglect, or if it really was impossible to sit there any longer? We barely said goodbye; everyone went their way.

3. Cleaning. The situation seems hopeless; the enemy has an overwhelming numerical advantage. Morale is low. The eyes are afraid, but the hands can handle it. Don’t think, just remember: from top to bottom. First, collecting the bodies and dishes, then the ever-smaller bits of paper, rolled into balls that are increasingly harder to find. Finally: dust and sand shaped like shoes. For dessert, mopping the floors. You can see your reflection; I’m unchanged, but everything else is gleaming. My apartment feels younger than me."

Text author:

Nikodem Biegowski