In the perspective of a large, elongated hall, rough rods with pilgrim bags woven from transparent glass threads hung. The bags contained photographs of a deceased person - someone close to the artist. This filled - and created an immaterial drawing in the space above our heads. In a world of constant movement, in a world of the river of images, where people disappear in the mist of agitated beings, the day merges with the night, and the sky is crossed by flickering arcs of the sun and stars, the artist desires to stop at least a particle of the flowing reality of the world, to stop an object despite its fragility and transience. Komorowska stops her world, a world torn from real existence using fibers of extraordinary delicacy, fragility, and transparency. These fibers - thin, almost immaterial, soft, not sharp in the drawing, envelop and stop objects and things from the life and dreams of the author in space. These fibers, so beautifully woven from glass, from a material that is cool and sharp for us laymen, are warm and friendly here. They do not close and separate; they protect. Glass threads envelop the world of Paulina Komorowska-Birger.

Wojciech Müller, excerpt from a review, Poznań, June 2012