"Majaki ‒ Czerwona Kropka" is the story of a person struggling with a very serious illness. Unfortunately, no one can help him because only he sees its symptoms, or these symptoms exist only in his head. I wrote the text in one afternoon, but for a long time I tried to find a corresponding visual form. After many attempts, I ultimately decided on muddy photographs of peculiar objects.

This book was supposed to change everything. Above all, it was a project that I finally managed to "complete." It was quite an achievement because at that time, I practically abandoned or postponed everything I touched or pretending it never happened. Moreover, it was a project that I was truly satisfied with. Excited, I awaited the day when freshly printed copies would land in my hands.

I got punched in the face right after looking at the cover. My rookie mistake in print preparation caused some images to have a non-smooth transition from the black in the photos to the black on the page. It's a minor difference, and probably no one would have ever noticed... BUT I DID. I thought I would cry. I wanted to tear up the entire print run, even though I had invested a significant amount of money that left in my bank account.

Originally, I had many plans related to the Red Dot. First ‒ win contests ‒ all of them! Then finding a publisher, foreign editions, exhibitions worldwide. I wanted to send it into space and to the bottom of the Mariana Trench. The Red Dot was supposed to be everywhere, and it ended up at the bottom of the closet, serving as a base for the vacuum cleaner.

Today, almost two years later, it hit me that HEY, THAT'S EXACTLY WHAT THE DOT IS ABOUT. This project couldn't be exactly as I wanted it to be. Then it wouldn't be true, wouldn't be authentic. It became an ironic commentary on myself. 

I'm telling you, it's meta as hell.