PL
Notatki z termorecepcji po aktywacji Cieplarium Karoliny Sobeckiej
ENG
Notes on thermal perception after Karolina Sobecka’s Thermolab activation
20.09.25
Experience 1
I had never swum in such a cold lake for so long before.
The cold water reminded me of a fast-flowing stream of the Zielonka River (my childhood river in the Puszcza Bydgoska) or of a glacial lake.
Yet it was an ordinary lake (Piaseczno), on the shady side, in the afternoon, just before the end of summer.
During the immersion, my skin was painfully stinging, though not immediately.
At first, there was a sense of intense, dense coldness, which over time began to rip into the deeper layers of the body.
At first, there was a sense of intense, dense coldness, which over time began to rip into the deeper layers of the body.
The hairs on my skin were constantly bristling, and my skin was tightening as if under stress, as if all the pores were closed and the surface of the skin was shrinking.
The coldness of the water was ripping into the deeper layers of my body, even though I was constantly moving; swimming was not generating enough heat to warm it.
After I got out of the lake, my senses were disoriented — I could not tell whether warmth or cold was prevailing. There was a burning sensation on the skin, at the intersection of pain and a strange, curious pleasure.
Touching my skin with the palm of my hand was the only thing that brought my perception back into focus, allowing me to think about cold again.
After I left the lake, my lungs felt filled with chill, like in freezing winter, when breath turns into steam.
This sensation stayed with me for a long time after the swim.
20.09.25
Experience 2
Being in the Thermo_Lab slips out of the cold lake’s linear time.
There, time had been concrete, divided into acts of rapid change.
In the Thermo_Lab my body melts.
There, time had been concrete, divided into acts of rapid change.
In the Thermo_Lab my body melts.
My body liquefies. I am losing my form.
Everything happens out of sequence, as if within one extended moment.
I feel well, held by warmth.
Everything happens out of sequence, as if within one extended moment.
I feel well, held by warmth.
I sit on the upper bench, in the corner of the sauna. The stove is in front of me. The coolness of exhalation contrasts with warm skin, a faint mist settles above my upper lip.
The slightly open doors and the circulation of cool air disturb me, although I know I am in the warmest place.
Exposed parts of the body warm up the fastest. Over time, they become covered with a dew-like sweat. The prolonged action of slowly rising temperature causes sweating even on my face. Inside my nose, sensations alternate between cold and heat. Above the skin on my arms, a three-millimetre layer of coolness lingers — like a cloud suspended between the fine hairs covering the body. The buttocks, the backs of the knees, and the armpits seem reluctant to warm. Sweat forms as the body tries to cool itself. With time, the inhaled air becomes less hot, less stinging.
I think about the atmosphere, about the circulation of air. I feel warm air rising, cooler air brushing against my legs.
I think about the physics of the atmosphere, about heated air, whose molecules move at higher speeds, colliding with one another and generating energy.
I think about the physics of the atmosphere, about heated air, whose molecules move at higher speeds, colliding with one another and generating energy.
We are in semi-darkness.
Conversations float somewhere beyond my awareness. I can hear them, but they feel far.
I do not have the energy to engage. I am isolated, don’t need them in this state.
My focus is disconnected from the outside, sticky with the experience of the body.
I am in a state of suspension, calm.
I do not know how much time has passed. I drift.
Breathing grows heavier.
Part of me tries to endure a little longer, part of me does not want to leave, and part of me wants to rest already.
Conversations float somewhere beyond my awareness. I can hear them, but they feel far.
I do not have the energy to engage. I am isolated, don’t need them in this state.
My focus is disconnected from the outside, sticky with the experience of the body.
I am in a state of suspension, calm.
I do not know how much time has passed. I drift.
Breathing grows heavier.
Part of me tries to endure a little longer, part of me does not want to leave, and part of me wants to rest already.
We go out.
Out of habit, as with a regular sauna, I want to cool myself with water from the sprinkler, but I am already cold.
I look at the bucket for cooling the feet.
I replenish fluids, drinking water, and want to go back inside.
The atmosphere of the late summer night feels freezing now. I am losing heat quickly, afraid of getting cold.
It is too cold for me.
Out of habit, as with a regular sauna, I want to cool myself with water from the sprinkler, but I am already cold.
I look at the bucket for cooling the feet.
I replenish fluids, drinking water, and want to go back inside.
The atmosphere of the late summer night feels freezing now. I am losing heat quickly, afraid of getting cold.
It is too cold for me.