In the year my father was born, the Chopin Monument went up. Then, during the war, it was knocked down. In 1958, when I was five, it was unvelied again.
Photographing Poland. I ask myself each time I am here -- how should I do it?
I'm posting just one photo from today. If you stare at it long enough, you'll race through most of the questions that I have about my days here. Maybe not all. Maybe not even some. Maybe none at all. But to me, this image has soul.
I'll leave Ocean alone for a night. Tomorrow we leave for France and on my way there, I'll again come back to this theme. Because I have been thinking hard about how best to post (and think about my days here) with accuracy, with flare and with an honest punch.
You have to smile. Visitng Warsaw now, you just have to smile. I know that much.