Kathy Bee - A Collector's Tale

What's the first thing that comes to your mind when you hear a term "Knitting"? I guess your thought flies not far from boring stuff that only our grandmothers tend to do in a big love to their grandchildren, caring how to keep them warm in cold winters by making a cute pair of gloves or socks. But it's not so easy. There's definitely much more to see in this as old-fashioned perceived hobby. There’s actually a huge industry hidden behind it. The world of knitting and textile - we see it everyday on the urban catwalks [especially in Serbia], but we never really dig in deep how actually the production process of creation of new materials and fulfilment of crazy ideas is happening.

I give myself a chance to dive in deep into the curiosities of textile world and speak with a brand new textile engineer Katharina Bredlich. She's just 24, freshly graduated from North-Rhine University of Applied Sciences [Germany], holding a Bachelor’s degree in textile engineering.

We meet in Belgrade, and it's a place, where she did her internship in a knitting company “IVKO” [http://www.ivko-knits.com/en/ - by the way, the promo video is quite impressive] and where she got a job offer to continue her life-long learning experience adding to it a few extra years in the management of textile world.

It’s important to have an Inspirer

It all always starts with something. Something probably extremely small, a small urge or a splash of passion, but later on it turns out to be very meaningful detail in someone’s career. Katharina entered the enormous world of textile industry unconsciously by seeing her older sister making clothes. Was it a grasp of competition or an inner wish to make something beautiful with your own hands, she doesn’t know, but she felt she could overcome this challenge and she did start sewing, while still studying at school. And one of the best qualities of Katharina as I notice from our conversation, is this unbearable enthusiasm she has to learn new things, making the quote of Adidas “Impossible is Nothing” fit her perfectly. Not many people make their own graduation dresses, but she’s one of those who did.

After finishing last exams at school Katharina had to choose her future profession and she actually got approved for studying Architecture after passing all entrance tests. But something changed her mind about Architecture and she skipped that study year. But the things never stopped in her own fashion and design world - and she applied for an internship in Köln at “Ludvik” to work with well-known couturier and fashion designer Fenja Ludwig [ http://www.ludvik-cologne.de/ ]. And even though from a professional point of view Katharina’s graduation dress didn’t seem to be perfectly made, again her unbearable enthusiasm and excitement about the designing, sewing, and willingness to learn and improve her skills to perfection, accompanied with enormous amount of creative ideas, made Fenja choose exactly her to be her trainee. And she did succeed. As Katharina tells now, she’s most thankful to Fenja Ludwig for being an Inspirer for her, as she was the one, who taught her a lot of new things and had the main influence on her choice of future directions in life.

The Textile Engineering: a close-up on Industry’s Latest Demands

“You don’t need to study fashion design, you just need to learn to make shapes,” was the advice Katharina got from her former teacher Fenja Ludwig before she applied for studies at North-Rhine University of Applied Sciences. And even though the entry test was rather similar to the one that fashion designers try to pass - at least the creative part, she chose to apply for textile engineering, as it included not only her favourite subjects from school times - like Chemistry or Maths, but the previously mentioned fashion design either, that meant gaining new skills and tricks how to do the things she enjoys the most. ”That’s a perfect combination of Chemistry and Textile,” Katharina says “and from technical part, you get to know the things that matter the most in textile world: fiber, the quality, expenses, technique, the origin of it”. Fashion is just a small part of the enormous fabric industry, though studying textile engineering gives an opportunity to experience how the whole creating process looks from inside - to see how a small piece of yarn transforms into a creasy, light and flowery fabric and what makes it so - all the machinery work and creativity of a human is captured there. Weaving, textile and knitting techniques, game of colors, compositions, screen printing, laboratory experiments and much more. Her choice seems to be quite practical and she notes: “An artist is doing it for a matter of art, a designer has to stick to certain rules. So you have to know the rules to play the game.” And the game can be played anywhere, where the textile is present.

There’s something about bees...

Asked if she has her own label already... she smiles and points at little insects on her dress she’s wearing today. I thought those are flies, but she nods that everyone thinks so, but those ain’t flies, those are BEES! During her studies one of the projects consisted of the task of making a design on fiber using screen printing technique and design clothes... and her main motive were bees. Asked about her choice she points that: “Everyone is crazy about butterflies or all kinds of flowers, but I haven’t seen much bees in cloth design. Bees are underestimated. There’s definitely something more about them.” And bees themselves carry with them a stereotype of very diligent creatures, so could be Katharina herself. Always unsatisfied, always fully inside the working process and always interested to explore what’s beyond the horizon of the neighbouring flower field.

While other study mates are obtaining their Master’s degrees already, she does not worry about it. She takes the opportunity to work in her field, and learn as much as she can, so that after years she can enter the Master’s program and the labour market already as an experienced young specialist, having a real background of how the industry is functioning. And probably “IVKO” is the best venue for her right now as it’s “the Place where knitting begins to tell its’ story” and I have no doubt she can truly brighten it up, this self-driven, always on the move Kathy [like a] Bee...

CS No.5, The Hostelworld of Belgrade and Serbia.

Well, hello world!

I am back! Hopefully for a longer period. But you know I was kind of busy these days, this summer in general.

The internet connection or better say lack of engine providing such service in private conditions was missing. But I live among people and there were shared facilities available to use in limited time. But it's not the same thing as your personal, so no real moment actually came to feel like writing more that 140 signs on Twitter posts. But thanks to luck and good people I have a new/old/used engine with me to enjoy my so desired moments of intimacy with public outcomes to all kinds of social media.

So how have I been doing here so far? Well, not bad at all. But as much as I wanted to avoid it with reference to the fact of how much I love this country... it came and took me completely - my dear Culture Shock No.5 [yeah, nothing connected with Couchsurfing]. Actually it's easy to speak about it right now, as it's kind of over... and I had a few discussions about it with some other people, who are dealing with expatriate lifestyle here in Serbia. So actually the conclusion is about accepting the rules how this society is functioning or not, but it won't change anything if you still fight against something what is considered as normal. So I am calm now, I accept most of the things, which bothered me, except some issues about women rights [of course, huh? :D].

Summer 2011. After volunteering at the Exit festival and meeting masses of drunk and happy people, waking up every morning in a field full of tents, swearing on the sun for radiating sunrays exactly on your face and continuing to hide from it whole day long [as 45 degrees is not something what can be enjoyed for unlimited period of time] - mostly lying on the beach and doing nothing [which kind of annoyed me] and enjoying great music at night, I said - 7 days in nature is enough for me, so escaped from that already the next day after the festival finished. But being staff at Silent Disco was really cool experience, I even kinda felt like being part of this Festival.

I escaped to the city for which I felt longing for all the time... I arrived late and my potential host didn't give me any sign that he's alive, so I stayed in a hostel for 15 Euros. I managed to have a little fight with the receptionist about volunteering and money issues, so I didn't like him much or better say his views on life [but later on I proved myself that is something that majority of people think]. Next day I went to look for a job in a hostel as it's actual opportunity for a foreigner to find a job in Serbia. Of course illegally. I checked a few websites like bookings.com or hostelworld.com and wrote down the adresses of around 25 hostels in Belgrade. Thought it could be quite enough for one day. Then I took a map and placed all hostels like little dots according to location on one or another street, so that I could make a randomly organized City tour for today. It was already a mid-day of 14th July and I went on my hostel tour. I visited around 5 places, some I skipped as they seemed suscpicious or the entrance was just a bit scary to enter. Then I actually got into one of those 5, where I went to ask, if they need some staff members, and luckily I came at the time, when the boss of the hostel was present. So he offered me a job of "tourist attractor" or it could be translated in urban dictionary as a person, who promotes the hostel and brings people. The deal was easy: 1 tourist = 2 Euros, plus I get a bed to sleep for free. Of course it didn't mean that I go in the streets and desperately attack tourists with my leaflets. Of course I do that, but in more smart way, sometimes flirting, sometimes emphasizing on the facilities the hostel is offering, but my workplace or I would say 2nd home was the train station - eternal longing for the international trains to come. Waiting hours: from 6 AM to 10 AM and then from 6 PM to 11 PM. Worth to mention that trains are always late - just you never know if it's 30 minutes or 4 hours late. 2 hours was the average "lateness". Welcome to Balkans! Miracles happen exactly here...

But the tourist season pays off really well. Thanks to God and Interrail. If emphasizing especially on the last one - that's how Western Europeans basically get to know the Balkan region. Speaking from the side of majority - by my unofficial statistics, covering research on countries of origin, where the most backpackers came from - the leading country this year is Denmark [2nd Holland, 3rd UK/France] they don't have any big promotions of Balkan region, just Croatian coast is promoted, but Interrail does all the job. There is something like Balkanflex here, but not many local people usually can afford it. The idea is - you purchase the Interrail ticket [a fixed price] and you are given a period of time, which you can spend on trains, traveling around the countries, which support Interrail idea. If you don't feel like reserving yourself a chair on the train [which could cost you from 2.2 - 3.5 Euros, with sleeping facility - around 10 Euros], then enjoy your ride with a luxury to avoid standing in a cue to get tickets.

Coming back to work - of course I'm not the only one, who is promoting cheap place to stay in Belgrade. There are around 8 other people offering hostels. Eventhough we all are competing between each other, but day by day working [read: waiting] side by side to each other, we became more or less friends, sharing information, enjoying the happy or sharing the moments of not so happy days. We even established an unofficial band "Cekaci" [Waiters], as coincidentally in the period of our corporate working, everyone proved their singing abilities. But friendship ends at the moment when the train finally arrives... then everyone tries to draw attention to [sometimes scared] backpackers. Though I have a little bonus for being a girl - the thing of human psychology - ladies are not treated as being dangerous. The most competitive hours are in the evening, when all the "late" international trains arrive... otherwise if I am able to wake up at 6AM and take my half-asleep body to the station - the chance that I'll meet somebody from other hostels is minimal [but might happen], so then it's my "Jack Pot" hour. [In the first 3 weeks I did so, but by the time I got really tired, so it wasn't anymore so regular, but I tried hard to make it so]. And then there's another type of hour, which is inconstant, but I call it " an easy catch" hour and it comes usually during the day, while you're out doing your stuff - and by the way - inviting somebody to check out your hostel. It's all about business, huh? :P

Back to friends and the hostelworld I was enrolled in. About life under cover. Actually thanks to my new competitive friends after working 6 days in one hostel I took offer to work for another hostel - the conditions and the location were a bit better [this time I call it 3 in 1 = a job, a bed and finally as well the registration]. So if you don't want to continue to lose to your strongest competitors, you join them [if there's an opportunity]. The price on the leaflet played a role as well - offering beds for a few Euros less plays a huge difference. So that's how summer went on - meeting new people, sharing tourist information, living in a hostel, meeting soulmates, having lack of privacy, having no time for yourself [yeah, sometimes you have to sacrifice something], being tired all the time, having an emotional crisis, and getting good again. More straight forward. And being thankful for the given opportunity. A separate chapter should be made about people, actually everyone of them deserves a separate article, as all kinds of ideas and topics were on the imaginary discussion board this summer. Happy moments with happy people. If you ask me - what I have seen in Belgrade or Serbia this year - nothing yet, but luckily I know it from my previous journeys. And actually I still have time, as I'm not going anywhere from here. And no CS No.5 or 6, or 7 will stop me. Because this is my White City.

The life goes on. The tourist season is over, that requires extra nerves and energy to look for something else, as unfortunately no Alchemist ever invented a formula for free food and accommodation. The tourist-oriented business shuts down for a while [by the way - many hostels close by the end of the season]. But the Visa question is now on the agenda... and dealing with Bureaucracy is always a pain in the ass [why there's no difference in whichever country you're dealing with it? Well, ok, some countries are better, and some are really the worst :D], but I'm persistent when I want something. And I have good people around me. Hopefully everything works out. If not - next country, next Culture Shock...

The Glory of Unborn Stories.

It's been ages since I last time wrote something in here. It's almost 5 o'clock in the morning and my English fluency has never been better. [Finally I'm not worried about it. Huh, dating an Irish guy really gives some results - despite it was a year ago. I hope it's like with ice-skating - once you learn it, you never lose the ability to that.]
And for the first time I feel like I don't need any plot to tell in this blog post, as it won't matter anyway.
I've met a lot of people and I always wanted to write about them, but then something always stopped me - like by telling the story I would miss something important and then the story would be incomplete, despite it would be already signed, sealed and delivered.
There's a guy, who constantly thinks of me, while exploring the world - no, no he's not in love with me or something, he just occasionally thinks of me, when something he sees really does remind him about me - I already received 2 pictures with objects including my name - one of them is a road sign in Italy welcoming to a little town called ""Marta", the other is some small shop in Porto in Portugal. Sweet! And the most I enjoy about it - is that enourmous and inspiring traveling background. That made me think - maybe I should start collecting all the small evidences, which include my name. That would be kind of fetish or something, but who cares - by the way - in Riga I have my own street in the city center [though is small, but cozy] and the most expensive shop of lingeries [well, it used to be]... quite enough to raise self-esteem in case if it goes down someday :D
But yeah, I started the topic without a constant structure, but with the idea of making my little interpretations about meaningful and interesting personalities I met in my life. I could quote movie "Paris":
"Elise: [in French] You're all alone here? What do you do all day? Pierre: [in French] Watch other people live. Wonder who they are, where they go? They become hereoes in my little stories. " but this time the characters would be real, I'm just not quite sure, if the people would like to be called in their real names... maybe better - my own made nick-names?
Twitter has made me a bit gabby. I guess that's because 140 signs very often are not enough. So the grammar has to suffer unfortunately.
But it's time... time to write about Mister New Zealand, Lithuanian brother, the guys you meet on the road while hitchhiking and who can make your 4 hour ride disappear like in 30 minutes, Austrian strawberry touch, French arheologist in his 50ties, Dutch guy having probably the best taste in music and big and pure illusions about eternal love, Slovenian ladies in search for the same thing, my favourite Latvian gay boy and all the other characters, which crossed my mind and life at least once... and definitely left some footprints in my perception of the world. But it won't be about me. It will be about them...
Grasps of Inspiration. More to love.
And actually it all sounds like an apology before commiting a "Crime".

Stimmt. Wir Machen Was Mit Medien.

Urban Stories. The Cleaning Lady.

She starts her day as usual - sweeping yellow leaves into bigger and smaller piles, swearing on guys who throw the butts of cigarettes on the ground instead of bin and she's always there - welcoming random people on their way to work, being a psychotherapist while listening to petulant stories of grannies, telling how much old bones are hurting and complaining that the prices for medicine are raising up, greeting the postman, who's trying to enter the house, but apparently forgot the entry code as he stays too long at the front door thinking [Yeah, the time goes and modern technologies come with the time]. This everyday ritual hasn't changed at all. At least for last 20 years. Might happen that prisoners of the cells of the Blockhouse Paradise have changed, the kids already grew up, but she's still there - sweeping the streets and washing the stairways with chlorine [so the smell is worse than in a public swimming pool afterwards]. So invisible and regular she is. Like a thing. Like a clock of existence. Like a painting on a Museum's wall [which is admired through centuries, but actually nobody gives a damn about it - only in a matter to be well-educated/informed]. She could easily be an icon of this live Museum of Cells, where behind the closed doors people tend to quarrel, love, cook dinners and oversleep working hours. This is a way of being a part of a randomly formed social group, even unintentionally.

Her bluish purple smock doesn't change colors either [meaning of royalty and wealth, and wisdom] - paradoxically it's a part of this Urban Museum icon. A face of an angel in the Forgotten World - filled with degenerates, drug addicts, young families and old couples, homeless cats and sometimes dogs, living in or nearby this Blockhouse Paradise. No signs of high culture, no signs of buildings of high appreciation and amazement, no positive vibes around... maybe that's why it's called the "sleeping" residential complex... and there are many of them, having many of these fairies in bluish purple smocks sweeping around the magic dust.

Snow White and Russian Red.

Dorota Maslowska leaves me ignorant, despite she’s called a new rising star of Polish literature. And I can see she’s definitely a new one... just I couldn’t stand the very descriptive context in which she tried to make an insight of modern Polish youth. Beside the true hate of Russians [and everything what’s connected to that], the regular fun and loosing sense of reality under the impact of drugs and creation of virtual reality thanks to an addiction of the New Age – video games. I guess I will never get through the real meaning of the book, as I stopped reading it after a few pages. Maybe I’m getting older or maybe the translation was too direct, but I could get the opposite of aesthetic pleasure of reading. This game of words seemed so dirty and unpleasant to my senses of beauty. Maybe not even unpleasant but just SIMPLE, like hearing the chat between two drunken guys of my backyard – who are not kids anymore, but they remained the same, getting all great influences of street life – especially all swear words and all the synonims of normal things in more „poetic” way. Well, I leave this peace of modern literature for another undefinite time with hope that someday somebody will tell me the whole story of „The Polish – Russian war under the Red-White flag”.

Be A Friend of Nature!

There's a City in Italy Called...

Picture by Patrick Chevallier

Smells and Love Stories [Prague Airport].

Travelling in memories. In memories of the best student times of 2008. Would love to see more than Airport, but the time is limited.

The language sounds as usually soft [even if it’s told to be opposite], but this time I can hardly understand what people are talking about.
I love airports. Indeed. Those loads of people, searching their gates and carrying big bags – in different colors [makes overall view important and very posh. Hehe.] – make you feel you’re going somewhere. And indeed I am. There’s something inspiring in all this multi-cultural mess of business men, mums taking their kids to WC, beautiful strangers which make you fall-in and out of love [as fast as the gate-ways are going here and there and what a pitty - you’re heading in different direction. Sometimes you’re on the same Boeing dragon, feeling the power of its’ wings made of steel]. Clean toilets, smoking prohibitions, innovations, bored ladies in small coffee worlds located next to each other and repleted with smells coming from duty-free shops of Parfume. People communicating in all possible languages of the world or being silent and thinking great thoughts. There’s something magnificent and united in all this reality of sky-dive providers. And I’m in it. Keeping the feeling as long as it stays. Let’s fly. High in the sky.

Intellectual Tea Drinking.

Recently I was reading stories of a group of young people writing their interpretations about global icons. Beside a global phenomena of beauty and problems of homosexuals in Baltic region, there were a few inspiring stories about Erasmus experience – of a huge responsibility of presenting your country – as at some point suddenly it has your face and your views on life – which you share with other curious minds, wanting to explore more and more... but one thing which thrilled me and made me think of secretly following the exposed habbit someday – was one lady’s experience with souvenir cups. I don’t know if it was true and she does this regularly, but the plan was to come together with friends [or family, depends on your relations] and have an informative and fun thematic tea drinking – everyone would get one random cup – representing one country and have a lively discussion telling people, what’s happening in that country. Imagine – it’s December, it’s snowing outside, it’s freakin’ cold, but we go out for a smoke on the balcony and speak about international politics and survival kit for the chosen country... the cousine, the card games, the famous bastards, numerous loves at first sight, art galleries and fashion weeks... until not only tea becomes cold, but the feet as well start to become numb... but we continue...
Well, maybe I thought of this just because I have a small collection of such souvenir cups... otherwise – it’s quite nice way to follow the news on the world stage, if you didn’t manage to check yourself...

Hey, Soulsister...

The Truth is...

This blog seems to be dead. There are loads of Human Stories in my mind... and they are just waiting to be spread out... and waiting already for a long time... SHAME ON ME!

Hitch-Hiking Is Like Liquorice Candies - You Love It Or Hate it!

Sometimes seeing couples or loners on the road with paper signs with the names of big cities and with the thumb raised up makes a lively joke in a regular life of high-ways. Beside the fact that hitch-hiking is becoming quite popular among young people by means of exploring the world, the feelings about this method of travelling differ – and mainly it’s like with Liquorice candies – you like it or hate it. But what is hitch-hiking? It’s not just standing on the edge of a lonely or rather busy road with a thumb raised up trying to stop the car, which is going in a preferred direction. It’s more about meeting strangers on your way and conversations! Anyhow, even if English is worldly accepted communication language, knowing other languages gives a huge benefit of spending time in random companies of strangers quite vivid and full of discussions while getting to final destination. It’s about being brave to challenge self in spontaneous and unknown situations. The curiosity to explore is the thing that keeps it going. People call it crazy, people call it dangerous. And in both ways they are right, and it’s everyone’s choice to do it or not. And beside there’s always buses going on their regular routes at exact times of the day.
[Search for the full article inside "DoRight" June issue]

Existential Happiness.

While big boobs are winning second semi-finals of Eurovision [feel sorry for Lithuanians, as they were the best from all that crap shown on television last night, although they didn't have boobs], my mind comes to existential questions - how do people survive these days, what do they do for living?
Everyday passing through my small town on my way to the office I see a smiling lady in her 50-ties on the edge of Bazaar, hiding under big umbrella [whether is meant against the sun or either rain] and selling apples. Everyday! And she greets me with warm hello, asking where I'm going, in fact that she already knows where I'm heading to. Always so happy and smiling. Maybe the colors of reddish-yellow apples brings another joyful spectrum in seeing life in bright colors. And I feel happy to greet her.

Another old lady living in a house next to the office, always enjoying morning sun with glass of Lemon Schwepps smiles and says "Hello,what a nice sunny day outside, come over for the coffee!" And I refuse again, telling that I have work to do. But is it that hard - to leave all that work - and just go - to enjoy a frivolous chat with retired Geography teacher? C'mon! She has interesting stories to tell... she lived in another times... and I'm curious about them. I bring her fresh strawberries from the market and skip the coffee enjoyment for another time. As there will be another times. And sometimes it's just enough with one strong emotion - feeling of happiness... So dare and share it...
[By the way - I had the best morning ever - having a morning coffee while watching the world news on TV. Sometimes TV box is a real luxury ;)]
By the way - beside all those crimes and catostrophes, global challenges taking our minds, there is still space for our dreams. So start making the list! ;)

Life of an NGO - Leading Politics Without Government.

You’re young and strong willed? You know what you want to achieve in your nearest future? Or actually you have no clue about the future, but you have some bright ideas at the present, which could change exactly your future and the society you’re living in? Just start a magazine, make an art workcamp for kids, help to prevent starvation in Africa, set up a football match against racism, create a workshop to clean the city – do whatever is good to keep society curious about certain meaningful topics – and a NGO is one of the best places to do it!

Like in the beginning of the world there was a purpose of creating something (if we believe that was this “cosmic” dust transformed into the planet Earth we inhabit now), and creating comes out mainly from idea. An idea which survives the times, circumstances and problems. The same can be referred to the creation of a non-governmental organization (further NGO). Mainly in the beginning it’s just a small group of enthusiastic people sharing the same interests about certain topics and a big wish to influence the on-going affairs in local or global level (feeling the urge of preventing certain problems/ speaking out about global consequences in local communities/ alter “unhealthy” thinking etc.)

When this small group is experienced enough (already making some voluntary activities in changing things around them and they succeed), the time comes to establish an organization officially – with main values, goals, rules and regulations, statement of intent and name, which usually gives a brief insight on main activities of the organization.

That’s how a non-governmental organization is born, after the celebration of new-born it’s time to enlarge the range of activities, promotion and voluntary participants (as NGOs are usually working on voluntary basis). When human resources are enlarged by a bunch of enthusiastic people wanting to change this world, it’s time to activate more and more projects, which will strengthen the values of the organization and make people involved closer to each other (friends) and the ideas they follow. When small informational and educational voluntary activities are not enough anymore (even with all this enthusiastic voluntary spirit) and the question comes to money issues – it’s time to search for financial support (either it’s support from local municipality or private companies for several projects or either “Youth in Action” program providing various ways for creative exposure for young minds to make projects and get funding for approved projects). It all depends on the way an NGO is working to get funding for their activities and whether they need money – as the main player still remains the human with his free will to participate and do some changes in society. Nevertheless, NGOs have critical points in their evolution – when the old leader is tired (or wanting to go further in his career) and the young one is not yet ready to keep the track – it usually happens after 2 years of existence. In a lucky situation the new leader takes things under control and the NGO experiences some changes and continues its’ evolutionary chart.

Being a part of an NGO is not just about dealing with bureaucratic circumstances and being involved in activities, it’s about bringing creative ideas, producing lively discussion, team-building, gaining organizational skills, keeping minds aware about global and local issues which matter and taking new challenges. Beside that – entering the society of NGO-ers, which bring not only new contacts (all around the country and abroad) and helping hands in realizing projects (collaboration), but as well different informational fields (full of opportunities for young people to participate and be active). Maybe you’ll start as a follower of someone else's ideas which are so close to your ideals, but anyway that day when you’ll establish your own NGO is already written down in future. For some people it’s like a disease – once you’re in, you can’t get out. Anyway if being active in the NGO sector doesn’t take you in so deep, overall it’s a great experience in a never ending process of non-formal learning.

Struga GANG Production presents: Biljana's Birthday Movie 2010!

Architecture - Real Estate of Mind

Architecture – not just the science of building stable houses with different shapes and accessories, according to current fashion… and architects – not just brave knights of future thinking drawing chimneys and projecting constructions of new libraries in their imaginative mind, while speaking with you… there’s definitely something more... more professional and dealing with responsibility – for creating or improving living environments for countless generations…

However in all times an architect as an image of a person, architecture and the profession of the architect were profoundly defined terms in the consciousness of society and it won’t change its’ meaning despite strong influence of differentiated social contexts. It stays as real estate presenting all kinds of emotions carried within the creation process…

A Cocktail of triumphant ideas
Nameless city. Large enough to gather all the masterpieces created since the time when people tried to fill up their living space with harmony. Maybe it started with nature, but continuously the art of building houses tried to leave remarkable footprints of understanding the beautiful. The colorful “ice-cream” hats of St. Basil’s Cathedral in Moscow (referring to Russian national style), the palace of Versailles (home for royal ancestors and example of French Baroque Era), Taj Mahal mausoleum (mix of Persian, Indian and Islamic architecture), Gaudi’s House of Bones [Casa Batlló] (a highly unique feature of art-nouveau), ugly forms of functionalism (presented mostly as block houses worldwide), Frank Gehry’s metallic clouds and dancing houses (confirming artistic liberty of modern times in deconstructive manner) and other numerous examples, keeping the interaction between cultures and styles, exposed in descriptions of certain timelines… In this chaos of figures, structures, materials, colors and ideas – stands out the meaning, as every house is built or destroyed on purpose. Wherever it comes from - it appears with the urge for change. In this case the architecture is functioning as a reflection of artifacts visualizing the interpretation of lifestyles, tendencies and overall philosophy for exact period of history, and as well keeping the sprouts in the ground for future creations.

Life of a creator – dreamer versus demand
Today’s information society presents a choosy consumer wanting to be amazed by an original product and at the same time feeling comforted inside of new shapes created by constructional magicians of the New Age (functional and attractive). World-famous Dutch architect Rem Koolhaas once said that every architect is a dreamer, trying to make this world better. From one side he’s right – as all the constructions and searches for new forms of exposure speak by themselves. From the other side – working hard on implementing demands and if in the past it more followed the guidelines of current style, then now when everything is done before – competing for the best performance on the world stage. Mostly it’s a fight of giants in an amusement park, which in the end provides us with fruitful conjunction of pieces of urban reality – Frank Gehry (Guggenheim museum in Bilbao, Spain), Rem Koolhaas (Central China Television Headquarters Building in Beijing, China), Jørn Utzon (Sydney Opera House), Santiago Calatrava (Alamillo Bridge in Seville, Spain)… and other bright minds are still on the way to make a show on the world stage...

Road Trippin' in Serbia.

Morning starts early. While other bohemians like me are sleeping I’m leaving already this inspiring environment located in an apartment somewhere near city center of Belgrad, wishing great time and seeing in future again. Yeah, you know – this White City is something truly mine! Slavia is reached and the bus is missed. But soon should appear next one No.31. The bus goes the right direction but that wouldn’t be me if I wouldn’t gone at least 2 stops more than needed. So I did. But not a big trouble… fresh morning walk to the bridge with blue railings, then down the stairs and here the hitchin’ a ride starts… Amazingly, first car stopped, so I’m going in a little truck with nice old man inside in direction to “Niš” 70km/h. Serbian-Macedonian discussions how pretty city is, where are we from and what we are doing, but anyhow way is quite long, so it mostly turns out to be a silent drive with exchanging cigarettes time to time and short interruptions on themes of unemployment in the country, recycling and cities in Serbia “you should see before you die”. Niš is reached. I stay on high-way and here the great adventure No.1 starts. Beside police car suggesting me to travel by bus, I stop the truck with Turkish guy inside and with no knowledge of English. So I guess, it didn’t matter, where actually I’m going or maybe “Skopje” and “Sofia” sounded pretty similar for a Turkish ear? Yeah, you guessed right – he was going in direction to Sofia. And as far as he drove I had a feeling that I won’t be in Macedonia anyhow, so asked to stop in the middle of nowhere where I was currently situated, and thinking to go back to “Niš”. Well, at least there always appears some hope inside image of a car to take you back to civilization. Small truck, nice guy with wish to go out of his country [huh, everybody has this dream???] and 2 small kids at home, same Serbian-Macedonian conversations about unemployment and pollution in Serbia and Macedonia. Yeah, all depends on culture of people. He drops me off near the sign showing Skopje and as well Belgrad [which is the opposite direction, huh?], so it makes whole this affair more complicated. But it’s not that hopeless, there’s one guy standing and making swan-fly dances on the road! Yeah! Another hitch-hiker! And actually my savior – at least 10 minutes of waiting turns out to be fun and helping hand from his side – explaining local lady who stopped where she should drop me off. I’m on the right road, sun is hiding beyond the clouds and I keep on telling myself that I will be today in Skopje, but there’s no sign that it could happen… as mostly all cars turn on sideway or just pass. But suddenly appears not-Turkish truck (Turkish trucks from my previous experience I am trying to avoid. And there are more intimate matters than just misunderstandings about directions) and it stops as finally sign “Vranje” works better than “Skopje”. Two guys inside – older one and other in his 30-ties (probably. Here in Balkans everyone for me looks older than they are). Same Serbian-Macedonian discussions about unemployment, weather… proposal of marrying a son of the older guy. To skip the love affairs I’m telling to have a Serbian boyfriend [so since now – I have artificial one for such occasions] whom I was visiting in Belgrad. Vranje is reached and trip continues. One older guy picks me up till bordercity, so just 30 km left till the border. And here starts great adventure No.2! A local car stops, I ask if the car goes in direction to border, driver tells to jump in, we start to move and I ask, where actually the guy is heading to – the answer surprises me: “I’m bringing you to the border!” Well, the things proceed in the manner that guy asks me to have a coffee with him, I refuse… he tries again… telling how pretty I am [hey, I looked like a shit that day – and that was on purpose!] and even the fact of having artificial Serbian boyfriend doesn’t help much… after refusing having a coffee, a guy offers 20 Euros, then 50 Euros… level of extreme raises, but still I keep calm wishing that border comes sooner. Well, I had to have a coffee with the guy at the Serbian border and luckily there the story ends. “They hugged each other and lived happily ever after separately!”

Have you ever felt like a vehicle? I did. On the border of Serbia there was a little row of cars, I will count them down: 1st car already having a passport check, 2nd car waiting, ME and 4th car on the row. Huh, strange and at the same time amazing feeling… the border-guy smiles and wishes “Good luck” and there I am… out of one country and not yet in another. At least this space has just straight piece of tarmac [more amazement gets one of Bosnian-Serbian borders – when “out of space” territory is held on a bridge]… “Dobrodojdovte vo Makedonija”- another border guy smiles, asks if he’s right about European Union as my passport is not really red as it should be – yeah, yeah, already 5 years… and I go… I go home… feeling so free… playing with a dog [this one I already know from previous trips to Serbia – as he’s all the time passing the same territory. Probably he could be called a “Border puppy”]

This time without even leaving Border territory, one car beeps to jump in and drives towards Kumanovo. Mind becomes much brighter, as the sky just starts to grow in dusk, but I’m already almost in Skopje. Last car stops with Bulgarian number, but guy inside speaks Macedonian. To my amazement or by today’s all-day practice all way to Skopje was fulfilled with chatting in Macedonian! [huh, I see that impossible is nothing! Just right circumstances are needed!] The car drops me off in Kisela Voda… and it’s already dark, in spite it’s just 5 PM… and I’m happily moving my feet in direction to EVS Palace with hope that there will be somebody to give me a shelter and warmth, which EVS volunteers always have… and I’m not wrong about that, while sitting on the stairs and feeling happy of no more movement for today! By the way – it’s Spring outside!

In Love [with White City]

Speechless. Amazed. In Love. [maybe?]

Groove Armada - "Sex and The City Theme Song"

Crank Your Wireless!