Witold's Blog

How I started my writing adventure

Let me tell you a story. Just imagine… Imagine yourself walking in an upscale suburban neighborhood. It’s a late evening. Through the bay window, you can see a well-lit but otherwise darkly furnished room. It looks like an old English library. There is a late-middle-age man sitting in a partially unfolded recliner with his elbows

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My writing in the New Year 2022

Happy 2022 to all. Despite all the surrounding defeatism, I greet 2022 with an unwavering optimism. At my age, I greatly appreciate each of them, and I’m ready to enjoy every one to the fullest. Each one is like a new baby––from the time it comes, you’re convinced it’s going to be the best. Then

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Where Is The Memory Stored?

In my previous post, I cited Paulo Coelho in By the River I Sat Down and Wept. The story was read by some as borrowed from Hundredth monkey effect, originally described in the 1950s, and developed into a theory by Lyall Watson in the 1970s. It made a point that if an idea reached a

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By the River Piedra I Sat Down And Wept

By Paulo Coelho I read this passage some years ago. But recently, it brought to me an entirely different meaning. I am learning about the function of human brain, and the phenomenon of memory fascinates me. Please read, and I will return to my crazy idea in the next post. “A scientist who studied monkeys

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All About Masks

I put my first mask on some sixty years ago. In my Medical School during cadaver dissection in anatomy class, the stench was difficult to tolerate. The mask was a status symbol then, and put me in the circle of health professionals. Later, during long open-heart surgery cases, it seemed to me that I spent

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Sneak Preview of My New book, “Pals Forever”

How do you raise the son, when your father is in prison for murder? Do you even want to have a son? Crime is committed in the operating room, and they blame the surgeon for it. Fatherhood is the most challenging job, and also the most rewarding. Watercolor by Kathy Flood

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It’s not the critic who counts

I see this everywhere. The commentators. Political, economic, sports, social, scientific. They all make a living of someone else’s ideas, work and sweat. Someone else’s years of work, preparations, and risk-taking. Austerities. And then exposing his or her creations to the world. The commentators can make or break your career. There are always more critics

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How to become a writer

The first condition to become a writer is to have something to say. It reminds me of the anecdote from the stormy life of Napoleon. Each time the Frenchman conquered the town, he expected a 21-gun salute. One time the expectation was not met, and the town was silent. No sounds of celebration. He called

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Gratitude

I’m writing this a few hours into 2021. And what a year it was. Turmoil. Conflicts. I don’t remember such a consequential year during my lifetime. The monumental presidential election. A huge dynamic in national and world economy and politics. Unprecedented deception in the media. Everything topped by a monstrous pandemic. The coming changes in

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Tradycje. Epilog dla czytelników polskich

Dla moich polskich czytelników. Koncert w Piwnicy pod Baranami. A teraz sam autor, Jan Pietrzak. Tekst oryginalny. Jest takie miejsce u zbiegu dróg, Gdzie się spotyka z zachodem wschód… Nasz pępek świata, Nasz biedny raj… Jest takie miejsce, Taki kraj. Nad pastwiskami ciągnący dym, Wierzby jak mary, w welonach mgły… Tu krzyż przydrożny, Tam święty

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Traditions

Teaching kids how to cook mother’s favorite dishes. Showing them the places your ancestors are from. Telling stories about how parents met and what they’ve done before you’ve arrived. Traditions. Most of the kids don’t think about what’d happened before they’ve been born. And if they do––it happens late in their lives. Often too late.

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