My work, my journey

It is not easy for me to explain that strange
and exceptional time after the war, brimful of memories,
and yet evoking in me a feeling of having
just been born.
Today it seems that the sun was shining then
day and night, through all the years of my, as it were,
second childhood.
All life was ahead of me.
At the threshold  of my future I was facing its
“infinity”. Without  e n d!
So I rushed into that future with my eyes wide open
and with “greatness” in my cartridge – pouch. If you see
in the following pages a huge pouch on the shoulder of a poor
individual, it is the same pouch
with my greatness in it, while the individual – that’s me.
I did not “rig myself out” in a hurry as others did.
Neither did I adjust my “profile”.
Even then I felt that individuality does not inhere in form
and stylistic gesture.
I did not “adjust” my features so that they could be
carried in the familiar way straight into the museum.
I knew it to be too simple and too artificial.
I knew that my “individuality” and my truth
lie much further off and that the road to it was not going to
be short,
that the JOURNEY and the unforeseen complications would eventually
combine to form my “profile”
But not the form!
I want to discover in that period, in my pre – history,
the symptoms which pointed like a signal to the direction
of the  W A Y  and the  J O U R N E Y  that were about to begin.


Tadeusz Kantor, “Intimate Comments”, 1986-88, typescript in the Cricoteka Archives, p. 1.

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