Warsaw’s a bit of a funny city, and i’m it’s child. You get all kind’s of youth, the plain, the mainstream, the black sheep, the dreaming, the ruined, the hungry for life; but everyone seems to aspire. I don’t know if Warsaw’s the place you find your dreams, i’d like to think it’s the place where you decide on what it is you’re looking for, and once you know, you go out into the world to find it. Burned to ashes in the year of 44’, it’s a city that has risen once again. The city that praises it’s past, rebuilds the ruined. A place with fading pastel blocks, broken streetlights, wild outskirts, semi-censured galleries with new age art, and a small center that learns to breathe. A city that feeds on the alternative, rises from the youth; that is, if you know where to look. It’s a place that keeps creating its own inspired version of the universe and hopes to become something big one day. A good place to grow up in.
For anyone who’s into the youth movement of the late 60’s in America, the music, the art, the bohemians, the love of that time, Patti Smith’s ‘Just Kids’, a memoir to Robert Mapplethorpe might be more that just a good read. I stumbled upon it two nights ago at Tate Modern in London and only as I read did I realize the story is about Robert, who’s photo exhibition I happened to be struck by that same day on the 2nd floor. Finding a bit of myself in Patti Smith’s recollection of her youth, I can’t lie, I think this book, their story and their art are among the most profound things I’ve ever encountered.