Vojtěch Plhák
#2 min Vojtěch Plhák
28. 6. 2026

The everyday life of the place where I was born and raised has never been essential to me. Yet it is interesting how, over the course of my life, my perspective on it gradually changes. I search within myself for who I was as a child. After moving to Zlín and later to Prague, I return home eager to find out. I look for things that were around me but which I could not perceive with my eyes or mind.
I enjoy moments when I don’t have to think about the speed and bustle of the city I am in daily contact with. I can slow down, take a breath. I close my eyes, and suddenly a seemingly different rhythm of the place unfolds before me. The village flows at its own pace. Time does not fragment into endless tasks but spreads across small everyday situations—the work in the garden, the quiet street through which people ride bikes instead of cars. I begin to sense the rawness of ordinary life, which has always been here; I just couldn’t grasp it before. It is precisely this everydayness that becomes meaningful to me. A place where banality is not empty but, on the contrary, full of intriguing little things and human presence.
Childhood lies in the palm of your hand when life turns it over,
and it can smell of a blooming orchard.
For a fleeting moment it still shines in the pebbles
before it ends up somewhere in the back.
Yet it does not vanish completely; when you turn,
it will caress you.
Childhood is every fleeting memory,
childhood is your little child.
You love him—it will not betray you.
Martin Plhák










