My name is Justyna Kopania. I am a painter. Art is my asylum, life, poetry, music, the best cigar, tasty strong tea, everything.My Art reflects the world I perceive with all mysenses; people I meet and love; nature I admire, and all the things that affect the way I am.The Man is my main inspiration and This Man is the principal topic of my project. I am focusing on Their psyche, attitudes, as well as Their appearance, manners and all the complex processes that take place both outside and inside the Man.I cannot imagine existing without my art, my paintings, my inspirations – it is, and will be, an intrinsic part of my life. I prefer oil painting on huge canvases. People from all around Europe find the pieces of their selves in my works and are impressed with the sincerity and truth expressed through them.In my studio - work - I paint a few, sometimes several hours a day. This is typical painting - easel, oil, structural. Paintings are "fleshy." Paint requires both painting, as well as brushes - and I do not regret the paint. Paintings are painted this way - creates a kind of reliefs. Paintings are painted in a sort of style, original ... - Inspired by certain passages of what I see, and stay in my memory. Paitings are entirely painted by hand. I always try to give the climate the moment that stuck in my memory.
In painting I try to show the "world", which could be seen by looking at reality that surrounds us, from another perspective, unusual, remote, sometimes through the eyes of the child, sometimes music, composer, or someone who looks lichen on the sea, the moon , the sky and the stars ..., the river ... looks out the window and looks out into the street. Walking down the street looking at people's faces. In rain, snow or fog. Perhaps the world that surrounds us Human really is quite different than we perceive it every day. Perhaps in every drop of rain, the grain of sand, petal snow are millions of colors that you can see, if you look for them, exactly an unusual perspective of our view.
I would like to connect and be able to capture the image of time that passes so quickly. Pass a second - which are born minutes. The minutes are created with the hours ... hours - days. From days - weeks. From weeks - months. From months - years. From years - life ...
Passing seasons. Passes the snow, the snow comes the rain ... the rain drops tears of God sorrund my face - haltingly straight at me - how he thinks. Passing day ... Place the sun in the sky the moon is replaced ... I would like to be able to stop time ... I look at the clock on the wall ... They come to strip off the clock ... it from the wall. Batteries. Put tem a side. I hang the clock on the site. I sit opposite the window and look into them. Outside my window the rain falls. The sky is dark, cloudy. Just like before removing the battery from the clock. I stopped the clock with the naivete of a child, thinking that would stop the time ... I looked through the window - still clouds float across the sky, raining constantly ... time passes ... the window insists evening.
Meditations - next part
The clock strikes the first hour of the night. I finish the painting today. I get up with the
stool and taking off the easel painting. It amounts to a second
peace. I'll be back. I put a stool by the wall. Easel shifts the corner of the studio.
I went up to the window and open it. Falls into the cool, fresh air. I look at
sky. It is dark and overcast. I do not see the stars on it today or
moon ... time is passing. Clouds do not see the end ... just like the end of time,
which takes in its passage .... Time 01: 30 at night. I think. My thoughts
moving in the direction of art, philosophy ... Art ... Definition - Word
"Art" - reminds me of red, especially with cadmium red
Cadmium Red - as passion, love, life, fire, blood, freedom, but also
as a warning, aggression, destruction, cry ... Cadmium red reminds me
Caprice No. 16 Niccolo Paganini ...
My thoughts on art, creation, life is based on the observation
and the sensation of reality. Feel - say, look, see ... but not
always see - to feel ... I Processed reality that
I try to capture in pictures or words, is an attempt to look at the world
in terms of feelings, emotions, emotions that give the word, color
images. Create - say, feel, perceive, communicate your point of view ...
I think that art is unlimited and can not be
"Close", limit, designate that runs from here to there, that means so much
and so much ... It should inspire emotion, controversy, and sometimes conflict ...
What is a "time"? Time is "something" that second time is not repeated. This second,
followed by a second clock stand out second, minute, hour time ...
as the sun, the moon takes place. Time as
transience, transience, something that is limited in its
unlimited. Time-the mystery of existence ... Man, as a prisoner
time ... suggestions of the clock.Time - haste, speed, blunt, something that lasts ... Everyone has a "consciousness of time" ... Maybe
if the man had no consciousness of time, perhaps not so
hurry do not really know where and what ...
I light a cigarette. I look like a strip of gray smoke rises ... A moment later disappears. This leaves only the smell of burning tobacco. Like memories. I meditate and try to understand what is evident in its being, but really, when one starts thinking about what is obvious - when he’s trying to understand the obvious - it becomes unlimited - as art, as something that is sometimes. .., like philosophy, like the human mind, as life ... like ... nothing. So what exactly is "nothing"? What exactly is "something" ?!... What is the difference between "something" and "nothing" ... Floating burnt tobacco smoke - is "something". A moment later, smoke disappears and remains the small that after a while becomes nothing ... Even after that, a few minutes ago was something ... "Something" - is visible in some way ... And what is "nothing"!?. .. What color is "nothing"? I close my eyes for a moment ... Then you can say that I do not see ... And yet, when one closes his eyes - he sees darkness at the start with some reflections of light ... A moment later, it is very dark. Does "nothing" - is black ?!... Is it therefore time is nothing! Perhaps, however, time is something ... Then what is "nothing" ... "Nothing" - it's also "something." And since time is something which is also nothing ... I decided to paint it - time for something and nothing ... What color is the time! Time I decided to paint it - time for something and nothing ... What color is the time! Time I associate with the color white. With quite a smooth, transparent surface, giving the impression of spatial depth ... "Something" reminds me of a structure of something ... I painted the image of "Passing" - two pianos on a white background, with thick layers of paint ... I think ... I look out the window and see the night ... time is passing ... Or, if man were able to stop time - and then would still exist ... Do you still would be a man? I ponder, but even in thought I can not stop the time ... because thoughts are ongoing, like me, you, we all ... Is that - what I'm trying constantly to do, stop in the picture time - it is achievable? Can you in art, in painting, to photography, poetry, prose ... music ... stop the time? I think that in art, etc., you can simply recognize the moment ... but I can not stop time ... ... because it takes time to establish its duration, while destroying some way - to subject everything that surrounds us ... transience, often forgotten ... Even "nothing", which for the moment, a fraction of a second - can become "something" ... I like to think. I like to understand ... it's my passion ... a reflection - even emptiness, which is sometimes a man is like - if you look at it from another perspective ... if only for a standing rather than lying ... Emptiness - is also after "something" - because it lasts, there simply is ... I ponder on ... Thought - is it after all something, but it is intangible, you can not take it in your hands ... you can not see it, touch ... just as void of imagination and the sky ... but you can feel, feel - as Stop the smell ... in Picture time ... Stop in the art of passing the time ... transience, time, duration ... You can only stop the thought, feeling accompanying the process of creating something ... but no time, no passing, because they are ongoing ... We can not catch them ... or close ... even in art ... even in words, memories, or hands ... Their survival - is endless .... They are something that the entire existing nothing, nothing in the whole ... You can not know their structure ... - Although they are ... although they are ongoing ... - In his passing ... - Like a man ... I get up from his chair and walked over to the repealed windows .... which brings cool fresh air, it would seem that the same thing, which was the previous night ... and yet another ... Outside my window it was raining. Drops of rain gently hitting the window sills, windows, roofs of houses ... compose a prelude rain tonight Is this a prelude ... it is art? Still raining – someone in the light of the lantern runs down the street ... hurry ... You can hear the stamping of heels, you hear the rain ... Light of the lantern reflected in puddles, shadow of the lantern, a man ... a man runs, but if he walked in hurry. ... With a fast pace under the umbrella painstakingly extracted the smoke ... - Probably smoking a cigarette ... and Scenery from the movie - an inspiration to paint another picture ... - And yet the reality - creates art, great scenery ... The reality - as art ... Like Libertango by Astor Piazzolla ... - Light and shadow ... the energy of life, passion ... The greatest artist - is the world. Outside my window today, the sky was full of gray clouds that floated today like the human mind - draped in sadness, thoughts ... Rain and tears on people's faces, lively, full of nostalgia, wistfulness about everything ... hit my window, pouring down the windows ... I finished yesterday’s work on the next image. Image that is a reflection on the transience of life ... there is ... time ... How small is man, to everything that God created ... but how great a man may be - for others ... other people ... I - a man as time passes ... ... which will never come back ... Time 2: 27 on my clock .... Passing in time - still continues ... as a shadow, which can not be lost as a thing ..., set aside, or somewhere in a corner to sit ... there like a cloud of dust sitting in the corner ... marched off by the wind, blowing through the open window ... Painting ... life ... creating ...- man should create, not destroy ..., share your thoughts, because each of us, I think that she sees the world differently ... The colors are changing every day outside the window, colors, seasons, sky, clouds ... just like that world - changes the passage of time ... changing, life-changing ... seeing, feeling ... something that is obvious and seemingly understood, in their misunderstanding of ..., in its lack of borders ... I think the biggest trick is understanding. Get to know - is to understand ... At this point, thinking combined with an attempt to understand the meaning of existence, the passage of time ... stop for a moment and actually look at it from another perspective ... When a man looks at the world outside the window ... even at night .... . so very different from ... the moments that are never the same ... change from second to second ... like the clouds floating by in the sky ... ... the color changing shape, the word ... and maybe just the world .. . ... the people around us are illusion ... which gives each of us according to their own needs, thoughts ... Maybe ... passing - it's just an illusion ...
Maybe sometimes that ordinariness is good to look from different angles ... you may want to stop for a second of time ... for a while ... that was another, seemingly unique perspective to look at the wall ... even if not present during the shoot, crowd, who, like lava, flowing through the streets of the city ... without regard to what surrounds us ... stop at the smallest fraction of a second ... and understand why it is so and not otherwise ...