Warsaw, Poland, 2019 - 2022,
 I photographed Warsaw for three years. I came here to photograph whenever I could find a couple of hours in the day. My trips were many.
 The city is uncontrollable, enormous. I have control over practically nothing. Yet I'm not overwhelmed by that fact. It elicits a feeling of freedom, perhaps even impunity. The whole time, I am confronted by the decision of others. I have contrasting experiences, like the smell of urine and the aura of expensive perfume, movement, and tumult.
For me, the city space is mainly its streets, and I am strangely fascinated with everything that happens on them. A journey through the city space reveals its variety, with little universes having no common parts that clash in unbearable juxtapositions. Historical buildings, like the telephone operator, now a symbol of the Polish resistance after the Warsaw Uprising, stand next to the Bank of China. An exclusive Italian restaurant, the Supreme Court, works of famous artists on the street, and another memory of war and destruction. The police stopped somebody, driving tickets are expensive these days. The Museum of the History of the Polish Jews, young Indians throwing colorful powder at each other during the Festival of Colors, St. John the Baptist Cathedral. I look at the historical buildings of Warsaw and see the river from a distance. A robot is serving latte on platform 4. Polish medieval hymns about the Holy Mary and military helicopters. The times of great warriors and the time of Apocalypse Now.
Warsaw, a growing population, a muse with the subtlety of a woman, a shield, and sword, defense, and offense. Our Lady of Grace and Miracle on the Vistula. The city has a deep history, but most of what I see has risen from rubble in the 1950s. I experience everything and constantly search for wonder. I have often said to myself that I would not come here again, but I did. I am grateful for all these experiences.

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