16Oct 21
Silent visual stories.
Prizren is actually Shkodër on steroids. And yes, I do like it.
Turbulent times in Montenegro. We come out on the streets to show our spirit when the country is at stake. For the second time in history we show that Montenegrin nation will not perish in front of the ambitions of “The Great Serbia”, and this time we know our demons, both foreign and domestic.
I was in love back in 80s when I stepped on the escalator for the first time in my life. I remember it so vividly, the magic and all the toys in the “RK Beograd” shopping center.
It was one early morning on the fleamarket, and there we met. She was sleeping there in a pile of dead cameras and she looked at me, my communist diva!
Carnival in Tuzi. Corona virus, neanderthals, angels, monsters, bedroom on wheels, indians, and a lot of CRI-zero sodium-vapor streetlights. Hold my beer.
I borrowed the huge keys and I got in, well, through the window. Twenty metres from the water of Boka Bay, a tailor’s house is sleeping, surrounded by tall stone walls and full of WWII tailoring magazines.
A man-made entrance that locals do not go through. They say that one should not go in. For now I don’t know for sure where it leads, but I was told that it’s a cave and a home to subterranean waters of a river that is long time gone from the town.
Abandoned building site of a sports hall. A concrete Quasimodo in the middle of a national park.