Having lived here for 25years, am I a true Wisconsinite?

I heard from one of my Polish readers today. He sent me a clipping of a newspaper article depicting a photograph that is identical to one I had purchased from an artist-photographer when I was last in Poland (December). It is actually quite nice in a muted and dreamy style of fuzzy contours and soft and faded blacks. I bought it by happenstance, following the most improbable set of circumstances, on the eve of my departure. And, to make things even more tricky, I could not fit it into my suitcase, so that I was forced to take kitchen sheers to it and chop the matting down to a size that could be accommodated in my bag.

Konrad Pustola, the 27 year old photographer, speaks of a Warsaw that follows him in his dreams (he lives there still). He digs into childhood memories for inspirations, taking photos on days when the pace slows down (Sundays) and the city becomes lazy, immobile, still. I wish I could link to the story, but I appear to be incapable of creating the connection.

After the flurry of political drama here in Wisconsin, this article, the photo, the recollection of scenes immortalized by Konrad – all are a perfect antidote. Sure, it may be important to cross oceans and set up homesteads in unfamiliar places, but it is also helpful in a soothing kind of way to return and take another look at the images (as depicted by a new generation of talented artists) that are left behind.