~ Suzana and her magical world ~

Suzana and her magical world (Davorka Vučak, an artist)
As a great lover of horses and their world, as a horse rider, I was astonished by what Suzana’s paintings, her biography and accompanying stories revealed to me. The paintings and that stream of tender reflections illustrate beauty, warmth, nobleness, feelings and intelligence of both her and those magical creatures. It’s a unique union of a man and a horse. I know it all too well. It’s hard to achieve it and feel it but that’s exactly what Suzana has managed to do, understanding the depth of a strong, masculine body that gives a sense of power; each vein on the neck that is pulsating; the sincerity of a horse’s eye, no matter what that eye wants to tell us at a certain moment, that it’s in fear, that it is grateful for our breath being united with its widened nostrils, that it’s grateful for a lump of sugar, for given sweetness and love, for bales of hay or oats that it takes as a child takes chocolate. It’s an honest creature. Honesty is hard to find in humans. And once one finds it, they should know how to put that on canvas and into words. “While I’m creating I always believe that someone somewhere far away might touch my soul in some of my paintings, in some of my stories”, says Suzana. I would say that she has touched my soul, and other souls as well, understanding them in a particularly subtle way. I’d call her “the ambassador of nobleness”.
Each painting is magnificent, each story is wonderful.
While I’m reading Memories, that subtle and sophisticated story, I feel sad, my throat tightens because that story describes my life, my reflections on memories that are, as she says “the house of treasure”, reflections on my family that doesn’t exist anymore, on all those magnificent everyday things and details that made life with my parents wonderful. They were exceptional parents. And after that, there is a bunch of memories left: the warm, beautiful and cheerful ones, but also the ones that bring pain. All of that Suzana united in a wonderful story, perhaps my favorite, though it’s not fair to isolate any of them from that abundance that represents a true remedy for us, because in each of them I find pieces of the mosaic of my own life.
Her painting, narration, violin playing (because Suzana is an artist in that as well), and her gift gave her the ability to unite it all and make, both for her and us, a step forward, I’d say a step into the world, the same world we all strive for, or at least say we do, but which we demolish and destroy: the world of beautiful things, children and wonderful creatures in the world of animals and fairy tales.
God, bless us with more perfection like this one.