Ancestors and ghosts


There is a row of portraits in the old house in Zakopane laying in the shadow of Tatra Mts, some of them visible, some hidden in the darkness, melting directly to the dark wooden walls, passing through them, always turned with their backs to another, brighter side of the room where windows show white slopes of the mountains shining in the winter sun.

If you haven’t seen my recent posts about this undoubtedly magic place, here is the story:



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