James M. Barri made room for the Neverland. There, time stopped, or perhaps it ceased to exist. New days brought no experiences that would leave their mark on the characters’ foreheads or hands. Not necessarily as wrinkles or grey hair, but as the nagging thought to place oneself against the context of the passing time, taking responsibility for more than just good fun.
It does not result from an unfortunate event or coming out of the wardrobe (behind which there lie indescribable lands), but simply from the prose of life, if you will pardon the expression. One could curse the world, keep pretending, or return to the remnants of childhood, but such “stopgaps” will sooner or later break down or get lost.
Monika Łopacka documents a transitory moment. While still hoping that nothing is going to change, that we will somehow retain our old habits and practices, we are already sensing the arrival of a brave new world, in which there must be room for other things and people. But why do we keep humming that old tune, while the spark in the eye sometimes dies down and vanishes?