Studio Voltaire

Devised by Paulina Olowska

Changing Room

I'll forget myself one of these days!
My jacket. That nail is bent
My skirt, its lining
Hissing against my stockings,
Slithers down like a snake in the sand.
My undershirt, my whites,
The whites of my breasts!
Drooping like plastic bags
 - Two pounds of salt in each
My skin goes over my head
like a bobsledder's bodysuit
-The gulls will have a ball!
And now for the muscles - 
Fiber by fiber
Hour-glass licorice
Rolling in sand
Like spaghetti in flour
Disconnect the tendons
With sharp tugs
As with wires riveted 
To fence posts

I reach inside – 
That's the brim of the gut 
The sunbeams pierce 
To my womb's bald skull 
Let's stoke our bellies 
with clumps of seaweed!
Let our eyes become the pearly
bodies of snails
- I might be a poet,
Spinning such words!

Once again I reach calmly 
into the soggy hole beneath my breasts
And grab hold of my poor
Stuttering heart
But oooooh....

Wojtek Puslowski 
(trans. Artur Zapalowski)


Powered by Instytut Adama Mickiewicza (www.culture.pl)

With kind assistance from Art Logistic; Simon Lee Gallery, London; Polish Cultural Institute, London and The Method Supporter's Circle: Fiorucci Art Trust, Simon Lee, Metro Pictures & Yana Peel

With thanks to Muzeum Tatrzanskie


Paulina Olowska has produced a special limited-edition print to accompany her exhibition at Studio Voltaire. For more information, please click here.