To acknowledge the worth of things/ Uznać wartość rzeczy


We were driving to the church this morning; I was sitting at the back, next to my daughter, chatting to her. She took a little vaseline lip balm tin out of her pocket. She put some on her lips and then asked me if I would like some for myself. She handed me the round tin, I took some of it and I put it on my lips saying that I love the vanilla smell. She was thrilled, her eyes sparked, she grasped my hand satisfied and said: ‘I love you, Mummy. I love you so much’. She was thrilled.

Often, this is exactly what our children want us to do: to acknowledge the worth of what they like, to give to us what they love and to see that we are capable of appreciating it too. This creates the union, communion and connection.

Have you recently had a similar experience?

Jechaliśmy dziś rano do kościoła; siedziałam z tyłu, obok mojej córki, rozmawiając z nią. Wyjęła z kieszeni puszeczkę z wazeliną do ust. Nałożyła trochę na swoje usta, a potem zapytała mnie, czy chciałabym trochę dla siebie. Podała mi okrągłą puszkę, wzięłam trochę jej balsamu do ust i nałożyłam, mówiąc, że uwielbiam zapach wanilii. Była zachwycona, jej oczy błyszczały, chwyciła moją dłoń zadowolona i powiedziała: „Kocham cię, mamusiu. Tak bardzo cię kocham”. Była wręcz zachwycona.

Często właśnie tego chcą od nas nasze dzieci: abyśmy uznali wartość tego, co one lubią; one dają nam to, co kochają byśmy pokazali, że my również potrafimy to docenić. To tworzy jedność, komunię i połączenie.

Czy doświadczyliście czegoś podobnego ostatnio?

Motivational poem

When poetry was moved

Through windows unknown to self

I sat with you

To break it through

The gossip

You told me that life was hard

You told me that it feels weak

When the pavement was as solid as a stone

And the floor neatly cleaned

And the sadness poured through dust

Collected by a vacuum cleaner

And revealed grace as strong as a believer

In the past that just had enough

And the future that held treasure

of golden pencils

fired through time.

Keep going.

x

Poem and photography: Alicja Pyszka-Franceschini, 2025. All rights reserved.

What do we do to talk more: painting and phone/ Co robimy by rozmawiać więcej: malowanie i telefon?

Gratitude for time to talk and create

One of the things that I do with my daughter is painting. She is 6 at the moment and loves creative expression. To talk about colours, mixing and cleaning brushes covered with oil paints, we sat down at our dining table, lied down a huge white canvas and painted together with old dry and new brushes, wooden blocks and all available fingers and tools at hand. After the session at the table, we hang the painting, took a photo and edited the screenshot in a photo app on my phone using available filters and tools erasing parts of the photo, smudging it or camouflaging some elements of the photo. Talking while creating is very natural to us so we were able to create a nice conversational flow focused on filling up the empty canvas. Try this too and show us your creations. 🙂

Jedną z rzeczy, które robię z moją córką, jest malowanie. W tej chwili ma 6 lat i uwielbia twórczą ekspresję. Aby porozmawiać o kolorze, mieszaniu, czyszczeniu pędzli z farby olejnej w zeszły piątek usiadłyśmy przy stole w jadalni, rozłożyłyśmy ogromne białe płótno i pomalowałyśmy je razem używająć starych i nowych pędzli, drewnianymi klockó i wszystkimi narzędziami, które miełyśmy pod ręką. Po sesji przy stole powiesiłyśmy obraz, zrobiłyśmy zdjęcie i edytowałyśmy zrzut ekranu w aplikacji fotograficznej w telefonie za pomocą dostępnych filtrów i narzędzi wymazujących części zdjęcia, rozmazujących je lub kamuflujących różne elementy zdjęcia. Rozmowa podczas tworzenia jest dla nas bardzo naturalna, więc udało nam się stworzyć przyjemny przepływ konwersacyjny skoncentrowany na wypełnieniu pustego płótna. Gorąco polecam wszystkim.

Zachęcam do eksperymentów i pokażcie nam swoje prace!

Pozdrawiamy,

Alicja Pyszka-Franceschini i córka Gabi

First published by my on my other site: Accomplished Squirrel dedicated to multilingual communication.

A developing thought

Receiving Presents: Does It Matter What’s Inside?

Ash Wednesday: Reflections


Photo: ‘Tissue’ by Alicja Pyszka-Franceschini, 2024.

There is a famous painting by Andrea Mantegna called by many as The Dead Christ (see here). It is a striking picture. It shows Christ’s body laid down on a bed after the crucifixion. The painting uses foreshortened perspective as a compositional technique.

Christ’s body appears shorter than it really was. It is squashed almost to an unnatural size. Both of his palms are curved and fingers bent like claws. His pain is noticeable although He does not feel pain any more. The foreshortening of perspective is aching to foreshortened life, of course. I have no doubt about that. However, there is an aura to the painting of something forgotten too. Of someone lacking foresight or full sight. The painter did not have it. Neither do we as spectators. From Christ’s body posture, though, we infer that he was as much in psychological pain as he was physically suffering. Would his posture be different if he took less blame? Was Jesus tormented to mercy*? How did He experience this torment? And why on Earth did He do it?

On one level or another Jesus knew that making his soul of steel, would be ill-advised. 

Making our souls of steel
is ill-advised.

Jesus, it seems to me, was after nonconstructive criticism. He focused on stupidity, biased and prejudiced thinking. He sought out the injustices done to him and others through others. 

As we seek those done to us
and by ourselves less so

But why has Jesus gone through the hurt-optimization procedure? I can guess that it would be to build up his capacity for something. Could it have been forgiveness?

It sounds insane, doesn’t it?

*I read the phrase ‘a torment of mercy’ in one of the books by Adam Philips, I think it was On Getting Better. I apologize to the author for a lack of appropriate reference.

The post is a short version of a draft of an essay in progress by Alicja Pyszka-Franceschini, 2024-2025. All rights reserved. Copying without an written approval of the author prohibited.