PSZCZYNA – The Land of Dreams

Silesia, A.D. 2023. In life, human beings are in perpetual motion, often failing to distinguish between its forms. Only by measuring time can we tell whether we are marching, walking, running, hunting, or fleeing. A collection of diverse thoughts presses upon us. We surrender to the rushing waves of the wind; we meet the obligations scribbled in the daily calendar. Yet, hiding a dried four-leaf clover like a magic amulet, we also embark on journeys into the intricate and mysterious labyrinths. We become explorers, searching for places where twinkling stars have fallen or running after a train passing us in the sunlight.

Clutching a rose blossom in our hand, we search for tender hearts and watch the leaves fly up like birds. We look for guides, read signposts, ask others, and questions ourselves. Thrown into a formula of a wheel, orbiting in circles, beset by the rose of the winds and the four sides of the world and the cyclical rhythm of time, we finally come to a halt at some point. Standing in the shadow and observing the passing time, we look at the horizon, where we read vibrating mysterious words and sentences, automatically placing question marks, exclamation marks, commas, and full stops next to them.

Pszczyna, A.D. 2023: In search of new paths, we discover Ichnoortographia Plesniaca – Andreas Hindenberg’s magical map from 1636, which encloses reality within a specific intentionality. We are presented with a compressed world set in motion by the rose of the winds placed at the top, stirring the desire to travel and, simultaneously, the longing for a magical home. Although everything remains in hidden grids and curves, the characters always move on, becoming first a word, a syllable, a word, then a story, and finally, the heart and soul, i.e. life. The map overflows with intersecting lines, points, vectors, and patches placed on the scale of hidden horizons, images of cuts and seams on the earth, roads that wind in intricate predatory symmetries, and singular artistic gestures resulting from the unique geographical force.

In these infinitesimally small, even microscopic volumes, patches of wetlands, ponds with silent fish and talking frogs, sandbanks with dogs with melancholy-dripping eyes, green meadows with lamenting beetles and dancing bees, stretches of forest with branches reaching out to the sky were marked. The map invites us to bow over the ubiquitous magic of the earth on the horizon together with the blue of the sky. It is where secrets of the past are hidden and the roots of the future are. If we strain our gaze, we can see the shadow of Johnny Friedlander’s soaring blue bird, always searching and turning its head towards silent houses, on whose walls we discover the handprints of anonymous builders who have passed away. And this view remains hidden remains in wisps of mist, resting on grass stalks and flower buds.

In the distance, the grey walls of the forest’s soaring frescoes, covered with reliefs on tree stumps with protruding knots, pierce through the flickering, milky glow. At the same time, squirrels scampering through the rustling pine needles and resinous cones, whispering like forest bells, slowly bring mysterious images to life. We are surrounded by palpable spirits that begin their journey with the hump of the sky on their necks, descending into the night to wander in the backstreets of nameless roads and streets, dancing in empty meadows and gardens. Soon they will be off into the distant world to collapse into the eyes of the night, pretending nothingness and emptiness. The moon awakens moths rustling with greyness in the music of the night spheres. The darkness of the night silently weaves the stars into the hair of the trees. As the sun rises, revealing the primordial colours of the earth and the pink, sweaty bellies of the stones, the owls fall asleep. The rays of the dawn sharpen the stings of the bees laboriously building hexagons of wax. Everything creaks in a whirlwind of repetitive sounds that move the sublime realms of the world, fleeing from Telemann’s trembling staves…

The Land of Dreams Logo

Five intertwining circles. With their arrangement and colours, they create new shapes and new stories. And yet, they are rooted in history and heritage.

This diversity continues to shape the Pszczyna community. It is manifested in the extraordinary hospitality and openness of the inhabitants, so readily and quickly appreciated by all visitors to Pszczyna. The logo evokes the extraordinary processes defining this place. It reflects the interaction of the past with the new, the constant search for what benefits both the community and each being. This process continues and will continue because the values that influence it are also changing – like human life.

Here is the rose of the winds, or compass rose, painted on Hindenberg’s historical map, which shows the territory of the Free State of Pszczyna and the surrounding areas of Upper Silesia and Lesser Poland. The map is unique in Europe, showing the intersection of various influences in the Pszczyna region: Czech, Hungarian, German and Polish.

Here are the rosettes in the Prince’s Stables, eye-catching, highlighting the prestige of the Pszczyna Castle. You can admire their beauty while looking through them at the world around you. Rosettes go beyond divisions, reflecting respect for each person, the coexistence and intermingling of the world of plants, insects, animals and people.

Here is the rose of the winds, or compass rose, painted on Hindenberg’s historic map showing the territory of the Free State of Pszczyna and the surrounding areas of Upper Silesia and Lesser Poland. The map is unique on a European scale, showing various influences: Czech, Hungarian, German and Polish, which intersect in the Pszczyna Region.

Here are the rosettes in the Prince’s Stables, eye-catching, emphasising the prestige of the Pszczyna Castle. One can admire their beauty and, at the same time, look at the surrounding world through them. The rosettes transcend divisions, reflecting respect for each individual and the coexistence and interpenetration of the world of plants, insects, animals, and humans.

Here is the four-leaf water clover (Marsilea quadrifolia), a species of water fern that, after many years, has reappeared in Poland, not far away, on the shores of Lake Goczałkowice. Although the plant was thought to be extinct in the whole country seventy years ago, the water clover has appeared twice right here. Perhaps it is a coincidence. However, we believe in the intelligence of plants, which makes them choose where to grow. Like the four-leafed clover, the fern’s four leaves symbolise good fortune.

These are the seasons, the fields and stages of life, the elements.

The Land of Dreams logo remains open. Everyone can add their own story