Radosław Nowakowski Sabina's Secret Chronicle - the first winter ISBN: 978-83-61946-48-9 year: 1996 / 2010 size: A4 covers: hard raw cardboard + slipcase paper: grey 160g print: inkjet printer language: Polish open edition It starts like that: “My name is Sabina. I’m almost two months old and I came (or I have been brought) to the conclusion it’s high time to begin my secret chronicle. I made my mind somewhere half way between Mama’s long nose and Dad’s black-grey beard. I was lying in the big wicker basket where my parents had left me and given over for a prey to the beautiful, so beautiful morning while they were busy with themselves committing horrid sins. And that was so because they didn’t get up at once and go out to admire shining webs of tiny icy twigs, delicate fogs and hazes, sparkling and gleaming, and rosy burning pale blue sky.” This is the beginning. Nobody knows the end. There is poetry of our life on one side (page). And there is a prose of our life on the other. Letters and pictures. Signs and images. Thers is a margin-palimpsest around. And some commentaries in it. Everything together. Simultaneously.