The town that I grew up in was one of the biggest projects in urban planning in ‘60s. It was destroyed in the earthquake in 1963 when the entire world decided to help. The UN decisively took the lead of the project. International competition was on. The United Nations set up a special fund and organized a competition for the new Master Plan of Skopje, with Kenzo Tange, one of the most prominent architects of the 20th century, as the winner. Yugoslavian architects Radovan Mischevik and Fedor Wenzler won the second prize, and it was proposed that the two winning firms collaborate in order to work out a final plan. A design-team was made up of the architects and engineers from Japan and Yugoslavia.

The idea for new Skopje was to keep old parts of the town (Carsija and Kale-fortress) visible and to be included in the city centre, to keep the river Vardar as a natural divider between two parts of the city – the one with skyscrapers, containing administration buildings, offices, educational centers etc, and the other – with one to two storey dwellings. Plan was based on the concept of “City Wall”, a very modern approach of free-designed ground floors with only pillars, so that the circulation of the fresh air could be constant and stable, and the “City Gate” – city entrances, where all transportation would be placed – new train station and a getaway for a highway.

The city became an international architectural exhibition, with multiple structures donated by various countries from both sides of the Iron Curtain. Yugoslav and foreign architects designed buildings in futuristic modern brut-art style. This huge project united professionals from the whole country on the long run.

The result was town dominantly designed in Futuristic Architecture. Some find it strange, cold, unfriendly and from”out of space”. But to me it is warm place full of craziest memories. My high school building was designed in this style, and university. Maybe that is why I wanted to study astrophysics and probably that is why I love cyberpunk so much to this day.

–        Dejan Kordoski

s there life in the rocky terrain? If you look a little better, you will realize that life is unstoppable and that it finds its place everywhere. Even in karst. And so the drywall, the traditional art of building without mortar, was created, which gave many shelters and homes.

One of the rules was to build a house or a repository on the ground that normally does not serve anything, on a rock or a stone break, or where stones from cleaning the environment are stacked.

– Dragodid at Cres

Traveling is my great passion. Every free day I take from work I like to spend out of my hometown. But when Sunday is lazy and slow, and everybody are drinking coffees in gardens next-door to my backyard, it is such a pleasure to go around my neighborhood, lightheaded, sluggishly walking, exploring pictures that have been carved into my memory since my todler years, until I realize that each time there is something new. New colour, new window, different atmosphere. On those days I rediscover place I like again.

–         Sandra Zivkovic

Imagine...

Terrace with a sea view....roof...all details preserved...some timber floors...and thats it.

Now, continue imagining...

Vuno.

– Lejla Hadzic

A lifetime ago I was here. Is it the same place? Could the new Old Bridge be the same one as the one before? Even if it’s not, it is good that is here. Bridge to the future, which is leading to the most amazing craft shops. Where traditional Turkish coffee will never lose its fantastic smell of hospitality and good atmosphere. And while I am walking around the old Mostar, a song in my head keeps on going, “Kafu mi, draga, ispeci”, or bake me a coffee, dear.

–        Zivota Lazarevic

There is a place that appeals to me the most. It changes its faces every time a wind blows. It can be cruel, it can be calming, powerful, shining, exciting, stunning... hot as hell and sunny, but it can rain for days and then an atmosphere grows mouldy. It is a place where no one wins, neither the sea nor the high mountains.

Venetians were there, Napoleon’s troops, Russians, Turks, South Slavs... different regimes in different times.

The great poet lived there and now lies at a peak he did not pick. He, as a scenery, had a lot of profiles. Fragile and pitiless, lonesome and occupied. On the mountain that shelters the bay, he learned that life is fragile. And so did his landsmen who were less remembered, but equally vigor.

Even though there was a bishop, he erected cathedral none. Since it is impossible not to see a mighty god scattered over every glimpse, each rock and look, on these high mountains that cover the bay.

To live there, were rocks are sucking out the water and hide it deep from its surface, where every step might ache, where goats and cows are still valued as wealth, demands strength and humbleness. Nevertheless, poet’s countrymen considered impunity to be a necessity. Ambition to survive was spelled in their genes. They knew how to be ordinary, gentle and polite, but at the same time they had clutches of thoughts, in good accordance with their poetic way of speech.

Undeterred by uncertainty of hard life, there always was softness and patience. There always was awareness of communion and common good. Assistance and love, brought to these small group of people by the very mighty god that hides in each karst and stone.

And love. Love that was passed on to children and children’s children, and their children too. Love that was gave to me. With all other values. Of course there are silent fears that cause stomach pain too, probably created on that unfriendly rocky soil. Without love though, there would be no beauty and no laughter. No understanding, no cuddling, no sincere affections. No listening and no endurance. There would be no families that stick together even when those family members live spread out the continent. There would be no Sunday lunches at my grandparent’s place, cheerful summers with my brother and cousins, there would be no bond that connects me and this hostile sensational place that I admire and adore. I feel gratefulness and love that I have to pass on, and on and on, until it reaches stars that ones the poet knew how to talk to. Maybe even from the peak he did not pick.

– Milica Tanasijevic

I like to walk and explore things that I might already know in Novi Sad, a town that I live in. This place is still finding ways to suprise me and give me sparks to be be in love with every day beauty.

– Ivana Volic

A small village called Ranilovici on mountain Kosmaj is a rescue place for my family. We are escaping here when summers get unbearably hot in the city. We go here to spend evenings next to fireplace when winters are gray in Belgrade.

My children and my brother’s kids are enjoying freedom of a village life here. They are one of the rear youngsters who sensed smell of hey and cattle, who know how to catch firefly in a jar. They saw a birth of a baby calf and a lamb. They are running across meadows of my great-grandfather’s youth. Here, they are learning values that, unfortunately, are not that common among their kinder garden and school friends.

Not only that our everyday life is richer because of this lovely village, but our heritage is here too. I carry wonderful memories from my childhood, my father too, and it goes on further to past generations. My great-grandfather was cultivating silk-warms that can only survive on mulberry leaves. There are still many mulberry trees around our family house, and my sun adores eating their fruits. Behind the house there is a trough carved out of one piece of stone, my great-great-grandfather’s hand work. It amazes me every time I look at it.

A life wouldn’t be the same without time spent here.

Ranilovici is the place I like.

–       Jelica Vasic

Mirror Mirror on the Wall, am I the Fairest of Them All?

Once a week, I pass right by this Door. But this time I saw them: The 1906s Art Nouveau Door of Josef Sabetaja Finci's house.

For the last two years, I have been taking photos of doors in Sarajevo, but these are the most captivating ones. All the buildings in the spirit of the secessionist art in Sarajevo have distinctive decorative facades, with the floral motifs beneath the roof cornices, around the windows and doors. However, this Door is the only thing decorating the exterior of Finci's house.

Floral motifs, in the most beautiful manner grace this Door, especially parts of the wrought iron. What makes this Door the Fairest of Them All, is the dynamic floral motifs of laurel leafs and berries carved in the wood. No other door in Sarajevo has the wooden floral relief like this one.

– Lejla Kahrovic Handzic

It is nice when the fog hides everything and unveils the detail, then slowly by its disappearance I fall all over again in love with beatyful Boka Bay.

–        Iva Petkovic