Journal · 2009-05-08
Branžež 2001
Rain streaks pierce the surface of the Komárov pond. It is shortly before noon and the camp is being left by the last participants of the summer training course Branžež 2001. Drops run down the palms, vanish deep in memories, shatter in hearts. I stand on the shore and feel it everywhere around me. Something that cannot be described, embraced, or forced into words. Unrestrained and unspoken thoughts only intensify the atmosphere of this sacred moment. I think of you... ...of you all.
It was almost eight years ago when the Branžež Summer Training Course took place. That was still during my computer science studies, when we briefly left the exact sciences and headed far beyond Brno. A week of absolute ease, sports, but also uninhibited drinking. That was when I was starting with photography.
I dusted off old notes for the photographs that spontaneously came into being right after the negative was developed. I remember that it was my therapy after returning to “reality.” The following year the course was held again at the same place. The same feelings again, but more on that some other time. Since then I have occasionally visited Komárov Pond. I look at what has changed there and what has remained the same.
Introduction
Rain streaks pierce the surface of the Komárov pond. It is shortly before noon and the camp is being left by the last participants of the summer training course Branžež 2001. drops run down the palms, vanish deep in memories, shatter in hearts. I stand on the shore and feel it everywhere around me. Something that cannot be described, embraced, or forced into words. Unrestrained and unspoken thoughts only intensify the atmosphere of this sacred moment. I think of you... ...of you all.
Cottage No. 6
The unfocused light of the ceiling bulb brightens the faces of those present. Tired eyes have grown accustomed and follow the action. We play without masks, we play at full force, we play for everything.
A field of wilted sunflowers
The concentrated ride on a bicycle with a horribly heavy backpack is bearing its fruit. I am in ruins just like the castle I am pedaling toward. I pass a field of dry sunflowers and think about the days ahead. Doctor Janík disappeared around the bend. I appreciate you, Doctor, you have no idea how much...
By the fish
Dr. Zítka and Mgr. Škoda – masters of fishing. I hope the fish tasted good. I firmly believe I will have the honor again of being in your group on the next course.
On freedom
what does a bird know of the air in which it circles? what do I know...
I didn't hurt anyone
heartfelt greetings to our brothers in Slovakia. don't worry, fiodore, the beach will be dry.
The three aces of fi.muni.cz
Gentlemen, thank you for the warm welcome in Bakov nad Jizerou upon my late arrival. from left: colleague Mazák, boss of all the stoned punkers, Master Kobra, who in my opinion will one day be the best Quake player and will probably be beaten only by himself, and finally the last one seated is Falcon, the genius-to-be.
The French vs. risotto
Falcon, watch out for the French, because they can be quite responsibly unpredictable and for all of us from studio – cottage – six: “risotto = the greatest enemy of all punkers,” am I right, Mr. Cobra?
Sleeping on plums
I caught you on cherries, or rather on plums?
A sausage of mediocre taste
and what about the female cast of our group? someone keeps sticking their ass in front of the lens, so again no portrait :(
Ruins
step by step, centimeter by centimeter, I climb up to the ruins.
Ahoy, sailor!
are you waiting for your companion? what have you got prepared in the hold for tonight? we lived opposite each other and only now are we getting to know each other. sails down, the wind is picking up!
Through the forest
where are we coming from and where are we headed, Mr. spoke-wheel? how is it without a bike? right? then I’m calm. just like in that aforism by Jr. Pík.
A fling and bátů
the group disappears deep into the forest. I am enjoying the atmosphere, which acts like a healing balm – a patch for the emotional eruptions of late sunny months. what do you think, Mazák? we’ll probably discuss it in the evening over cheap conversation with Mr. Gin... ...for five hundred bátů (that’s like crowns).
Betting on the wrong horse
I like meeting new faces, but I don’t like betting on them. Where does the line lie between an innocent desire to get to know someone and an emotional bond? Who knows. If you fail to distinguish it and drown in it, you will feel absolute helplessness – and that sometimes hurts a little...
On searching and blooming
A person has their origin, their roots that accompany them throughout life. What stands at the birth of every individual? Material security is often essential, but in my view it is much more important to seek one’s own symbiosis with the emotional foundation within us. Whoever finds it – wins, because mental peace and calm will survive any external intervention. What prevents your bloom? Could it be steep rocks?
A tribute to Fernet Citrus
yeah, I haven’t had such crap in a very long time. it’s a good thing the hut was close by.
In the cracks of the rocks
nice view. I’m surprised how banal things can make life more pleasant, don’t you think? ...nothing, I have to go so I don’t lose sight of the rest of the group... see you again sometime.
Without legs
sorry boys that you’re missing legs. a few more steps back on the rock and I wouldn’t have made it. maybe some other time, somewhere else, it’ll work out better
On the atom
the healthy core of all evenings rests and gathers strength for the next round. may you make it to breakfast!
Saturday, September 8, 2001
a few wonderful days in the company of great people – friends. it is time to step on the pedals. I, Mazák and Falcon are saying goodbye to Linda for the last time. EVERYONE WITH SINCERE EYES AND AN OPEN HEART, SEE YOU AT THE NEXT MEETING.
