Recently I became more brave and started to go with my sketchbook outside between people. You may think it is easy. Maybe for some people it is, but for me it is not. With practice, I have noticed that I started not to give a dime and just draw.
I enjoyed drawing in and nature. There is wind in this, rain, dust, and even mud.
So when we had a chance to go out from City, I packed watercolours, crappy sketchbook, which makes me feel more free, and went out for an adventure.
I also noticed an interesting thing, that when I paint something on the road, I can see it. Interesting isn’t?

Monstera plant, as a form, shape has became very popular design. Now it’s almost everywhere.
For me, Monstera is a memory. My grandmother had gigantic Monstera at home. But really gigantic. From time to time my grandma “trimmed” the plant and gave us leaves which she cut of. The leaves were so big and we were so small, that we use them as umbrellas. Bunch of kids running outside with big leaves, pretending that they are umbrellas in a rainy day.
Monstera is famous because of very graphic holes in its leaves. So you can imagine, how we were looking like.
But this was not important. This small imperfection, made the whole point of this game.
Now, many years after, I made Monstera lino print. The paint didn’t cover perfectly the paper, which made rather imperfect print. But it doesn’t matter.
It is imperfect, and it should be like this.

It was in my mind for quite some time now.
Linocut.
What I like about it, is a process.  You really have to think ahead, what you want in order to make it happen. And still you find yourself in lot of traps, which you haven’t expected. Linocut seams easy going way of art, but if you do it right, you can make magic.
I am still learning and it makes me very happy.

Here you go one of my first lino prints. Inspired by our trip to white cliffs of Seven’s Sisters.

Good afternoon.
So, it seems I made my last “bing bong” for the next four years, today.
Well, So long then,

Yours Ben, Big Ben

This is this time of the year, when instead of sleeping during the night, we look up and wait to see cosmic events.

But Bieszczady it’s not only beautiful nature. It’s also history which was not easy.
Here, where today you can hear only wind between trees, used to be lot of happy life noise.
There used to be many villages in this area.  But one day they become empty of people, and devastated. Lots of tragedies, lot of blood and tears passed between these high trees.
Almost nothing left from those places.

But
Sometimes when you walk in the forest you can enter a glade with a small chapel.
You sit down nearby and after a while between gusts of wind you can hear people’s voices.
Sometimes when you walk between hills, you can come across a small apple tree.
You grab one apple lying on the grass, and you know that they are the only witnesses of time which doesn’t exist any more.

So we wandered.
In Bieszczady.
Bieszczady is the south east far edge of Poland, where nature is still wild.

When I am in mountains, I always get a feeling that, it is here, where the clouds are born.
In the morning hills produce vast of fog which slowly goes up making small cute, fluffy clouds.
Just before storm, big heavy clouds are scattered by the top of the hills to give them a proper shape.
How I was surprised when I realised, that here not only clouds are made, but also rain has creative force.
When I was poorly trying to catch the moment of cloud creation, rain added patterns, and new shapes to my drawings.

Flying back to our island I was amazed how beautiful and different lands look like depending on where you are. And this was quite a short trip, so you would thought, there can’t be so many differences, but still there are.

Today I bought fresh green pea pods in a paper bag. I opened one pod, small green balls run on the table and… I moved back in time.

It’s four in the morning, summer time. My sister and me are in our grandma’s garden, picking fresh green pea pods straight from the bush. The bushes are so wild, that we could easily get lost, but we don’t care.
Why at four in the morning? Fresh green pea tastes the best at this hour. The green hour of the summer freedom.