The assembled writers, artists, graphic designers, photographers and associated mourners (all of whom will spend their lives in lowly paid jobs and making one coffee last 3 hours in dirty cafes from Moravia to Minsk) gathered round and wept softly as Plotki was pronounced dead.
As the news of Plotki’s death spread throughout the world and the media’s morbid fascination reached Saddam-like proportions, the wails of Plotki lovers created beautiful music which wafted in waves across the continent spreading a message: a new issue of Plotki is now on-line. Read it or the ghost of Plotki will hunt you down and curse you family for 20 generations.
The articles (all produced in a fit a rigor mortis) take you on a guided tour of death. We start with a photo essay of one of the continents most enchanting cemeteries [Olšanské Hřbitovy] before risking our lives with bulls and butterflies in the Spanish part of Eastern Europe [Zoom In], we take time to reflect in Russia [Remembering the Dead] before reading a Russian letter [The Death of Noguchi], making hay in Ireland [Kilranelagh], replying promptly to our Russian friends letter [The Death of Iraida’s Father] and then finally coming to an unpleasant end [A Shoe and Death].
Plotki is a project from around the bloc. We are open for new people and ideas. Plotki invites you all. Contact us at contact(at)plotki.net