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Category: Bona Journal
september that suddenly turned into November…
The fair was… surprisingly small. However, I managed to make three great contacts — so it was worth the trip.
During a fashion show, I was watching with interest two women in their sixties, looking stunning in somewhat exaggerated outfits and large glasses — one of them had long, gray braids. Divine!
I couldn’t help myself, I approached and told them they fascinated me. They politely thanked me and with a smile added: “We like to be seen.” Absolutely amazing, Polish wonders!
I chose sample colors for the vests — I’m very curious about the reception. I went for muted green and a mix of plum with a touch of red, smoky wine.
I wish I already had one on. But, but — those ladies’ words keep ringing in my head. I’m currently working on that too — to be. Or rather: to not be afraid to be seen.
I’ll tell you, it nicely flatters my vanity. A little.september 10, 2024
I had quite an emotionally tough weekend. I’m still taking care of my mind – with mixed results. Although I must admit, there’s a lot of euphoria in me. On Friday, a few unpleasant situations happened, and on top of that – damn it! – I started feeling nostalgic.
I started missing the deep, sexy voice and stormy eyes – which sometimes are like the sky. I probably should have written to my friend, something on a card – I know, I know – but I couldn’t hold back and sent a “bitter” message. Of course – I stepped into the ring and got hit hard.
I’m not writing about this without reason. I dedicated the whole weekend to “mental recovery.” Lately, I’ve been spending a lot of time on myself. I’m trying to understand where my various, often harmful, beliefs come from.
During yesterday’s session — incredibly exhausting — a lot came out of me. I felt drained all day. And you know what? I felt at peace with myself (though it’s a constant mental check), and with the situation that had been troubling me for months, I found out in the evening that we both feel abandoned.
I admit — it relieved me a bit, but you know what is the worst for me in this situation?!? The worst thing is the lack of action, communication, just — giving up. Although that’s probably also a very strong message, right?!
Can something beautiful happen between two people without communication, effort for the other person, or the willingness to understand their perspective?? Maybe I’m aging at a rapid pace, but — in my understanding — these are precisely the foundations of something good.
Besides the worn-out, yet obvious clichés like trust, love, respect. And at first, my heart beat stronger, but soon after, I quickly realized it makes no sense if we cannot communicate, condemning ourselves to sadness.
Such a pity.
Alright, I need to take meticulous care of myself so that the silent — though actually squealing — stagnation doesn’t consume me again.
For now, I’ve started creating simple reels — and I’m really excited about it, because I’ve never been into these kinds of activities before.
Tomorrow I’m going to a trade fair in Łódź, and that excites me too.
I’m thinking that even though old paths seem well-worn, safe, and “cozy,” sometimes you have to push yourself and go in a completely new direction.
One that will allow you to grow and experience something much more beautiful than we currently think we can have.
Alright, enough of these wise thoughts — I’m off to take the Youth to school and to the humble stable.
Have a fantastic day!
september 4th
I absolutely adore late summer!
I wonder if growing older (or maturing, to put it nicely) changes our favorite seasons. But anyway—that’s not what I wanted to talk about today.Something truly lovely happened to me. After successfully sorting out some incredibly important matters (for me, at least), I was leaving the SSC (a big shopping center), and as I stepped into the revolving doors, I ran into a well-groomed, older, elegant lady. She looked me over a bit suspiciously and then blurted out:
“First place goes to the beautiful lady.”
I was so caught off guard I only managed to shoot back:
“And right beside me on the podium—stands you.”
She smiled and walked away. So did I.In my grubby jodhpurs, the ones Bon wiped her nose on. With her lovely-scented fur still clinging to my shirt and my worn-out riding boots flapping around.
By the way—I’m convinced those boots are the reason I can’t gallop properly. It’s 100% them. Obviously.Next week, I’m heading to a trade fair in Łódź—can’t wait to sniff around, browse, and pick out the most wonderful, most beautiful, and comfiest fabrics for you, all stamped with my logo and a kiss from Bon.
It’s honestly hard to believe that in just three years I went from total nihilism to this barely-containable euphoria.
Bliss.P.S. Lately I’ve been dreaming about the “Machiavellian Man from the Past.”
I guess these are the leftovers the brain throws out—like crab shells on a beach. Maybe.
But I’m here, now. And I really like it.
I’m learning that it’s worth it. Ugh—so sentimental—but I’m learning, and my brain is exploding from constantly stepping out of my comfort zone.Alright—enough. The wild roses in my garden smell way too divine to think straight. They bring back memories of our sea and that row of roses lining the path to some—I can’t remember which—coastal town.
All charm and beauty, inviting you to a wild beach somewhere out there.As you can see—I’m off searching for tiles for imaginary Portuguese townhouses, so I’ll leave it at that for today.
Good very morning. I love mornings on the Ranch!
The boys ran early through the forest, and I managed to prune my favorite wild roses, whose scent I adore. The lady at the garden center revealed a secret to me — if you prune them after each bloom, they’ll flower again. So all my roses bloom almost nonstop. You know, I once had a doll, like a hundred thousand years ago, called a “baby doll.” I got it from my aunt in West Germany. You won’t believe it, but the rubber head really smelled like wild roses for a long time. Maybe that’s why I love my ranch wild ones so much.
Yesterday, I visited Bon. The temperatures are tough on both of us… uh… mixed. The young one scans me every time — sniffing if I hid anything she might eat. I think I spoiled her a lot. What can I do? My whole herd is just so spoiled, hungry, and loved. What fascinates me the most — always — is their diverse personalities. I absolutely adore each one — each differently. I mentioned before the idea of glorification. It was about Bon, who saved me. I long thought about how to repay her — besides the obvious pampering — until a tragic SMS from a friend told me about the death of his close friend. Depression. Suicide. I thought then, that this is exactly it. Maybe someone will read it, try it. I wish to give Bon immortality. I love being with her, feeling her scent.
In winter, I come back from the stable totally frozen. I sit there like an embryo in the shower, pouring hot water over myself. I’m just always cold. Always have been. So I thought, considering these two aspects, maybe I could create something and… I started designing riding clothes based on my own needs. The sweatshirt has a scarf (a neck warmer) and a hood. It’s made of premium high-quality cotton. It also has zippered pockets — so my snacks won’t fly out. I absolutely love it! Every detail of this project excites me, drives me, sometimes moves me — especially when I write about my personal, difficult experiences. The whole thing is so coherent in my head. One thing leads to another. Everything connected by such different emotions — from extreme breakdowns that pushed me to create. First for myself, to get out of that mess, to forget about the overwhelming helplessness and, luckily, the apparent senselessness of this world, this life.
Those fears are necessary. They help us look at ourselves, get to know ourselves. They’re needed so that — after long, sometimes difficult work — we can find the feelings on the other side: peace, a sense of safety, and finally passion, fascination with life rediscovered — also thanks to the help of others. I wish my clothes would show this entire experience, or rather — its crowning with passion, ecstasy, feelings of closeness and simply love. Oh wow… I got carried away again. Maybe it’s because I’m touching different fabric samples, testing socks, choosing colors — and today the color samples for the vests are supposed to arrive. I love picking colors. It’s like interiors — a little flair to perfect the vision.
August 28, 2024
It’s incredible how the world responds to our own “things.” Some time ago, during a walk in the countryside, I saw an amazing barn made of old stone. Surrounded by a beautiful setting — forests, fields, and a small herd in the paddock. It was about three weeks ago. Yesterday, I went back there. With my little Piździk. From the moment I arrived, I was dazzled by the perfectly done concrete, shining brilliantly in the sun, and on it a barking black spot with a blue collar. The dog ran up to me, wagging its tail. This cheeky guy taught me I could go further to two small houses where the owners live. I was greeted by an absolutely overwhelming smell of cooking. Despite trying to get the cook’s attention by knocking on doors and windows, I couldn’t distract Irek from his cooking. Luckily, I felt quite awkward wandering on someone’s private land — then Basia, Irek’s wife, came out from the other house and showed me around. Such kind people. Such a beautiful place. And guess what — I can do a photoshoot of Bon in front of that divine barn/stable. It’ll happen in September — we just need to set a date. The photographer already knows ;)
Alright, maybe now is the best moment to get to the point. Bon literally saved me. For a long time, I wondered how this could help someone else — “this” meaning contact with a “hairy therapist.” I’ve already mentioned Karolina from Horse Spirit. I think this woman helped me understand what Plusz has done for me. As the facilitator herself writes:
“Horses perceive us holistically, treating us as a whole and showing us the areas within ourselves that currently need our attention. These include setting boundaries, good communication, self-awareness, courage to act, decision-making, and building trust in the world.”Karolina also writes about her method, Horse Assisted Education: (…) it’s a type of learning similar to what accompanies us since childhood, engaging the whole person in discovering the world and developing skills. It activates not only intellect but also intuition, bodily awareness, and emotions, which reinforce what we have learned. This learning process involves the limbic system, the part of the brain called the mammalian brain, which controls emotions, behaviors, and drives typical for the species. The limbic system also stores motor and long-term memory. Experiences with horses strongly engage this system. Thanks to this process, previously unconscious competencies and skills become activated.”
August 2024
Good morning! I’m so excited! A few days ago, Bon and I went out — a walk in the field. For an hour and a half, we wandered through forests and fields — magical! My mind is healing — despite a rough night last night. It’s an incredible feeling to come back to yourself. Some time ago — quite seriously ;) — I wrote about the meaning of the word tribute. After such a long prelude, I think I can finally mention who I want to pay tribute to with my (not only) writing — and actually, who I want to keep honoring continuously. Very consistently. Especially because I owe her my life. I couldn’t care less about Polish pathos. I thought long and hard about how to approach this without unnecessary exaggeration, avoiding any mannerisms.
Bon — because she is the one standing on that pedestal — is the most wonderful story in my life, after the “blue-eyed girl with a beautiful soul.” For various reasons, too. Besides that, she teaches me constantly. At every meeting. She surprises me. She moves me when she recognizes my voice and greets me. After nearly sixteen years of interior design — which came from a huge passion for creating and shaping — I’m done. Just plain done. Absolutely not with creativity! I live from imagination, I love to see the world differently. But it seems that this “different” isn’t always understood. Somehow, my biggest motivation — to show a mission-driven approach to this work, that it can be done differently — began to disappear, until it was completely lost.
There’s no point in doing something that stops exciting you. Life’s tough dramas made me make a decision that allowed me to breathe, to catch new energy — and my motivation became Bona herself. It felt like it took forever — trying to find myself. A split personality — wanting something else, but having to keep going the old way for obvious reasons. A vicious circle. Stepping out of the pattern, out of the comfortable chair you got stuck in — where you feel safe, but only seemingly — is hard. Hard doesn’t mean impossible. I think this transition was shown very vividly in a short film made in my studio at the time. I really wanted Pluszowa to appear in it. We filmed it a few years ago — maybe three. I think back then, subconsciously, I already felt I needed a different career path ;) Bona stood in the office, ending the film episode — though probably not only that.
Good morning, still very July-like,
I had a “crash” two days ago. I’ll quietly admit — I forgot about my pharmacy visit for two days. Really, I just forgot. My trip to get my meds was a cruel journey — not to mention the mental torment, torn by guilt, but also the physical aspect of dealing with the lack of chemistry in my head. Ringing in my ears, dizziness. Of course, I can only write about myself and my experiences — and while I think I have some control over the Demons, my body, having been in survival mode for so long, is now throwing various things at me. There are days — one or two a week — when I have absolutely no strength for anything. Physically. I can’t get off the couch. I do the necessary, essential tasks but totally without energy. Once, this was terrifying to me — how can I waste the day so stupidly when there’s so much to do at home, in the garden, etc.? Today, I surrender to it.
I’m learning to listen to the body that wraps the divine mind, on which so much depends. It can make you your best friend or your worst enemy. One that’s obsessed, crushing itself. Exceptionally self-destructive. Okay, enough — despite everything, the learning process is (in my opinion) the most beautiful life process. Getting to know yourself is important, but the attempt to face your own fears, limitations, and finally change the beliefs that restrict your growth — that’s one hell of a ride!July, 2024
Oh my… I overslept! I honestly don’t remember when that last happened. Maybe it’s because of a dream I had — very sensual, as silly as that sounds. It was full of emotions I kind of miss. Some long-forgotten people appeared too. It’s funny how unprocessed traumas nestle in dreams (I think). One’s own monsters — sometimes disguised as someone pleasant. Confusing situations that seem meaningless, pulled from the depths of the soul or wherever. Freud said dreams are “a reflection of our hidden desires, dreams, fears, and anxieties” (Wikipedia and his devotees, though his discoveries cost much suffering and even some patients’ lives). Still, I really like his concept of the “royal road” to the unconscious. For me today, the dream was just desires :))
A very masculine, burly man appeared (an actor whose name I won’t mention — probably to avoid embarrassing myself ;) — reminding me of someone from a hundred years ago — probably why he showed up). You know, one of those senseless stories like “what if I had chosen differently back then.”
Anyway, this actor gave me everything I needed in my dream, all the things I most wanted but probably never had — a nice little ego boost for this cheeky mess. Let him have it! I always had style :) Now we fight smaller battles, though the Witch doesn’t give up and sometimes suddenly tries to attack. A nasty creature. A sleeping manipulator. A vile, sneaky bogeyman. Screw that.
Anyway, the burly angel from my dream gave me lots of attention, tenderness, and a focus on me in a psycho-physical way. He let me feel weak when I sometimes need to. He was stunning in that thick wool sweater — a tacky little picture of warmth. A trick of reason.
The dream’s finale was a brutally vivid reminder of a real situation. It turned out the Woolen Angel had someone — who, according to rumors — he murdered. Can you believe it?! I love my brain. It’s strong. Or possessed.
I don’t mention this without reason. The conclusion was… me leaving. I simply went my own way. I think for anyone who truly loves themselves, who likes being with themselves, understanding that someone’s company — to put it mildly — stops serving them, stepping away is the best way to care for their mental health, especially when it’s propped up on constant “chemical support.”
I had to learn this for a very long time. I wouldn’t be exaggerating to say it took me decades. I’m glad I get it now, really. I finally like myself — despite the Witch — though there’s still a lot ahead of me.
My beloved Collins (Mom still remembers me listening to his music non-stop while I was studying for my final exams, and now I could drink cocoa with him in the garden and hug endlessly) sings:
“What’s past is past, don’t turn around,
brush away the cobwebs of freedom…”The past shaped me, taught me a lot, oh yes. It strengthened me. It was colorful, and I was vulnerable, pressed into “should, shouldn’t, I may, I must,” etc. Now I really know I want to live. I like it. I’m no longer ashamed to say what I need — and I understand refusals much better. Letting go of what’s not for me comes much easier now.
Sometimes the Rogue still throws opinions about someone at me, but very quickly a thought pops into my head: “you don’t really know what they’re fighting.” I’m working on better communication with my Favorite People — results vary ;)) Just recently, a lady I work with said to me: “It’s good that you call because your writing is so unusual that I don’t always understand.” Seriously :))?!
Alright, I’m off to pick fabrics — this is regarding that homage I mentioned earlier. I know, a bit of a long intro, but an important one.
Note — today’s musings were sponsored by (okay, I admit it) Ben Affleck reminding me of The Man From a Hundred Thousand Years Ago. You can laugh now. But seriously — there’s always a way out. Always. Sometimes painful, sometimes uncomfortable, but always.
Please, don’t give up!
Text adapted from https://www.tekstowo.pl/piosenka,phil_collins,dance_into_the_light.html: “What’s past is past, don’t turn around, brush away the cobwebs of freedom.”
Late June, 2024
Yesterday, I visited my parents. While waiting for my dad, I walked behind the garage to the playground of my old elementary school — which now is barely recognizable. The field is overgrown with young trees. The remnants of the demolished walls are almost invisible behind the trees. It used to take me literally two minutes to get to school.
The kitchen windows of my parents’ house partly overlook the old school playground. Straight ahead (once), there was a sandbox and the path we used to jump from for long jump practice. I remember one lesson, or rather staring at that sand from the kitchen window, eagerly waiting for my mother’s beloved stuffed cabbage rolls. Then I’d run to the chapel for afternoon religion classes. Those were the days.
Yesterday, my childhood neighborhood left a depressing impression on me. Although some ladies in the same shops as always recognized me and smiled genuinely, the sad people wandering the sidewalks and the woman from the Żabka store — visibly worn down by life — made for a surprising sight. I get the feeling there’s a strange energy of doubt, emptiness, and dullness hanging over the place. Sad.
June – the end
Once my favorite month – June – maybe because of my birthday. You know, recently I was counting to make sure I really am as old as I am – and yes, that’s correct. I don’t want it to be any different. A bit of a pity. A pity, but probably only because of my energy levels. Yesterday at training, my whole body hurt as if it was screaming: “Re laaaxxxxx…!” For a moment, I thought about getting off the saddle, but in the end, we did yielding in walk – considering the movements with Plushie, we invented a gait before the walk :)) – it was exceptionally hard. Trotting was better. Training done, always “a little” progress.
By the way – I’ve been wondering since yesterday what it really means to do something “in tribute” – what does it really mean, beyond the obvious definition you’d find on Wikipedia:
“Homage (Latin: homagium) – a ceremony of solemn feudal contract. During it, homage was paid: the vassal would kneel before their lord and solemnly swear loyalty, promising to assist the lord in counsel (consilium) and to offer military aid (auxilium). Then came investiture, the formal granting of the fief to the vassal.”In common understanding, paying tribute means nothing less or more than an expression of respect, recognition, devotion, and honor. Well.
