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Wojciech KoronkiewiczPodlasie healthily crazy. A journey through the land of extraordinary people and forgotten flavorsNumber of pages: 338Year of publication: 2021, editionISBN: 978-83-961249-7-5Illustrated: YES (colorful photographs by Wojciech Koronkiewicz)Format: 148 x 208 mm, paperback with flaps
It's hard to imagine the two-meter tall Wojtek Koronkiewicz in a bee costume, but I will persuade the publisher to get him one – in recognition of the author, who, unable to sit still, wanders around Podlasie and collects literary nectar everywhere.. The meetings and conversations recounted in this book are delicious! Actually, it's not a book, but a box of chocolates; reaching for one chocolate, we will reach for another, and then for the next one, and later for a few more…, finally, we will whet our appetite for a journey in the footsteps of the likeable lout. Enjoy your meal and to your health!GRZEGORZ KASDEPKEO AUTHORWojciech Koronkiewicz, born in Białystok in April 1969, son of Janusz and Danuta. He lived for half a year in Paris, New York, and Warsaw, but always returned. I feel best in Białystok. Catholic family, but the grandfather is Orthodox. In addition, the train driver! He rode on the steam engine. When Grandma saw him, the wedding was in a week! Wojciech Koronkiewicz is a journalist. He used to write poems and paint on the walls. He filmed. Now they are taking dogs out of the shelter. He has a beautiful wife, two children, and a cat. He rides a bike. Author of the one published in 2020. books With the Mother of God on a bicycle. A journey to the wonderful paintings, icons, and holy springs of Podlasie.BOOK FRAGMENT:„Black cumin! Oil of the Pharaohs! Nigella seeds were found in the pyramids. Heartburn, hyperacidity, belching, and even allergies!– Tell me how you had the allergy at the sawmill – says Ms. Ania. – You were yellow like a Chinese person. – It probably went that way from the pine dust – confirms Mr. Piotr. – But thanks to black cumin, I got out of this. Oil of the Pharaohs! Hindusów's Game! Although some say it tastes like burnt oil. But in connection with this pandemic, it sold very well. It was raining and drizzling. – Shall I pour you some more? – asks Mrs. Ania. – I drank two glasses. I can't do any more. – Yes, yes – Mr. Piotr nods. – There's nothing to stir. I like this one the most, the linen one. I remember from my family home. The father from the oil mill brought. During fasting, they ate potatoes. The linseed oil from this was for painting fences. A person remembers this smell. – And why are there two accordions in your oil mill? – I'm asking. – Because my wife and I play and sing – Mr. Piotr rejoiced. – One accordion for the bench, the second for concerts!Mr. Piotr jumped up from the chair and grabbed the accordion. – So what? Shall we play, Darling? Shall we sing? – he shouted. – My prosthesis broke – said Mrs. Ania and covered her mouth. Pumpkins were ripening behind the fence. „I can’t get over how many people are eager to learn. They come here and learn the forgotten art. Meanwhile, such mats, like the ones we weave, can be easily bought at Ikea. Cheaper and faster. But when we sit down at the loom, we realize forgotten desires. I'm listening to conversations, someone is remembering that their grandmother had such a long striped runner. And this sidewalk disappeared somewhere. Probably after grandma's death. Now it returns, made by the granddaughter's hand. Out of respect for the family, for tradition, for the work of one's own hands. And out of respect for the world. Because we use old clothes for weaving. We don't throw them in the trash. We don't destroy the planet. We use once again. We give them a second life. I'm sitting at the looms, listening and watching. And I see happiness in people's eyes. I see how important creativity is in life. People love to learn. And do something new. Something that makes some sense. What can be touched. What can one be proud of. What can you decorate a house with. With a handmade rug. Although two days earlier they couldn't do anything. And I'll tell you something else. Just don't laugh. Warp and weft. Warp and weft. But that's pure metaphysics! This is the symbol of our whole life. Warp. These are our talents, our conditioning, the place where we were born, our social status, and so on. We won't change this. But we have a thread, after all. Which we can weave however we like. To my we choose the color of the thread, their texture and density. From this, we create a pattern. Very often when we knit, we talk about the meaning of life. This moves me very much.
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