Art Gallery by Suzana Stojanović

2011-11-13T07:04:00.001-08:00

~ Newspapers & Magazines ~

2011-11-13T07:03:00.000-08:00

» The stunning realism of Serbian artist Suzana Stojanović (Author John Sebastian, Magazine "The New York Optimist", 2010.)

» Interview: A painter Suzana Stojanović is attracted to secrets of the universe - obsession - galloping horses (S. Mirčić, Newspaper "Revija D", Budva, Montenegro 2010.)

» Interview: The friend of horses (Valentina Milenković, Newspaper "Vranjske", 2006.)

» Interview: Magical World or necessary sugar cube (Ružica Z.N. Stojković, Newspaper "Danas", 2003.)

» Heavenly world of horses (The opening word by Timošenko Milosavljević, 2003.)

» As if they were alive (Mima Majstorović, Magazine "Politika", 2002.)

» The Magical World of Horses (Miroslav Popović, The trotting almanac of Serbia, "KAS" art, 2002.)

» A sparkle in the eyes of Suzana's horses (B. Janacković, Newspaper "Blic", 2002.)

» The Magical World of Horses (S.L. Newspaper "Slobodna reč", 2002.)

» Horses have soul too (Z. Aracki, Newspaper "Novosti", 2001.)

» Young talents: painting is her love (N.M. Newspaper "Vranjske", 1984.)

~ Heaven riders ~

2011-11-09T10:47:00.002-08:00

Heaven riders 2006.
Original oil on canvas painting 35x55 cm
Series The Magical World of Horses

~ The King ~

2011-09-01T07:46:00.001-07:00

The King 2011.
Original oil on canvas painting 59x42 cm
Series The Magical World of Horses

~ Critics ~

2011-08-14T12:58:00.002-07:00

» The hyperreal world of Suzana Stojanović (Denis Peterson, internationally recognized first generation hyperrealist painter whose early New Realist genre - Soft Focus Realism - was exhibited at the Brooklyn Museum in New York, 2007.)

» It's all relative (Momčilo Zlatanović, PhD, the professor of literature at the University of Pedagogy and the University of Philosophy; a member of the association of Serbian writers, the Association of scientists and artists of Niš and a permanent member-assistant of Matica Srpska in Novi Sad; the author of a number of books on folk poems, dictionaries, monographies and a collector of prose folk literature, 2007.)

» By imagination to the truth (Stana Smiljković, Ph.D., Dean of the Faculty of Pedagogy and the author of many textbooks on the methodology of language and literature, 2007.)

» All the magical horses (Jory Sherman, the author of The Ballad of Pinewood Lake, the winner of a Spur Award from the Western writers of America for "THE MEDICINE HORN" and a nominee for a Pulitzer Prize for "GRASS KINGDOM", 2007.)

» Suzana and her magical world (Davorka Vučak, an artist, 2007.)

» While the guitar is playing (Major Mitchell, the author of historical novels about the American west and children's books, 2007.)

~ The hyperreal world of Suzana Stojanović ~

2011-08-14T12:22:00.000-07:00

▪ THE HYPERREAL WORLD OF SUZANA STOJANOVIĆ (Denis Peterson, internationally recognized first generation hyperrealist painter whose early New Realist genre - Soft Focus Realism - was exhibited at the Brooklyn Museum in New York, 2007.)

As a hyperrealist painter, Suzana’s engaging works are at once noteworthy, extreme and compelling. Most painters in the photorealist genre have chosen urban landscapes, oversized faces and figures, neon signs, etc. as their signature motifs. Suzana has instead concentrated her artistic efforts on horses. And not as one would imagine to see horses, for she has personalized the animals in such a way as to totally mesmerize her viewers. Her masterful paintings and drawings are attentive to detail and full of visceral energy not unlike the work of Rubens or Titian.
And make no mistake about it. These are not artwork dripping with emotion. They are highly proficient representations of the equine world that visually articulate the natural power and grace of these majestic animals. Each of her works are consistent as to proper positioning, subtle lighting, shading describing solidity of form, tonal balance, color perspective, depth of field, and natural movement.
The first time I viewed Suzana’s work it left a permanent and profoundly deep sensation in my core psyche that recognizably reinforced the universal need to be true to oneself in art as in life. Although her works are relatively divergent as to subject, they are not comprised of disparate styles. Each of her paintings is singularly true to hyperrealism in style and yet they all share a certain humility and softness. However, the humility and softness is not mere stylistic technique; it is Suzana the artist.
For example, Silence transmutes a special feeling, one of bonding between the master and his majestic horse. The composition magnifies that relationship in the upward perspective, the expansive width and the palette used for the sky and desert. The saddle itself is bedazzling, yet the glowing colors in it and throughout the figures establish movement also suggested by their measured stride. Were it not for the man and the natural setting, one would believe that the horse was a carefully crafted bronze statute gleaming under the lights. In clouds on the other hand, features an unusual transition of light in dust clouds created by the unrestrained subject animal. Together with the surrounding ominous darkness, they deliver explosive energy and movement.
I wholeheartedly recommend that you take the time to get to know her captivating work, as through these fine paintings, she has much to share about life, love and true friendship with all of us.

~ Heavenly world of horses ~

2011-07-06T08:41:00.000-07:00

▪ HEAVENLY WORLD OF HORSES (The opening word by Timošenko Milosavljević, 2003.)

Ladies and gentlemen, I'm very pleased to say that the author of these paintings, Suzana Stojanović, prefers portraying horses to men in her drawings. Horses are still better ranked than men, mostly because a man on the horseback is considered to be successful whereas a horse on a man's back has nothing but problems.A good horse at full gallop leaves dust behind which means that there are more roads to be paved, while people blemish, gossip and envy one another; I've almost forgotten about the politicians - they are always related to some affairs.So, poetically speaking, a horse is a magnificent animal which, unfortunately, isn't in a position to choose its master or its owner. Then there are, of course, "horses with wings", which obviously went into business with some airway companies. I have often had a chance to sense a slight feeling of helplessness in those who were constantly criticizing hyperrealism because they themselves lacked the artistic skill. In other words, instead of learning first and then giving their opinion about the learnt facts, they immediately criticize and by doing so try to hide their own imperfection. However, Suzana Stojanović with her hyperreal paintings captures the scenes at the right moment just in time for all of us to see defiance and pride, might and beauty, gentleness and wisdom. The world of horses is heavenly: God was merciful to bless us with such beauty. There are fights between roosters, dogs, bulls and men. Fights between horses don't exist. Horses race in order to win nobly, they jump over hurdles instead of passing them by and they don't enter through the backdoor. Horses go ahead, people lose their way. Unfortunately, horses are being killed, aren't they? No, you don't have to answer. It's all clear to me.

▪ RAJSKI SVET KONJA (Reč na otvaranju - Timošenko Milosavljević, 2003.)

Dame i gospodo,
Moram da kažem da mi je drago što autor ove izložbe Suzana Stojanović crta portrete konja a ne, recimo, portrete ljudi. Konji naime i dalje bolje stoje na tabeli od čoveka, jer je čovek na konju uspeo u životu, a konj na čoveku ima samo probleme. Za dobrim konjem se diže prašina što znači da ljudi još nisu asfaltirali sve puteve, a za ljudima se dižu ljage, ogovaranja, zavisti i umalo da zaboravim političare - dižu se afere. Dakle, poetski govoreći, konj je prekrasna životinja koja, nažalost, nije mogla da bira gazde ili vlasnike. Tu su, naravno, i krilati konji koji su očigledno ušli u posao sa nekim avio kompanijama.
Često sam imao priliku da u naglašenom otporu prema hiperrealizmu osetim prizvuk nemoći onih kojima savladavanje umetničkog zanata nije išlo od ruku. Oni, drugim rečima, umesto da najpre uče, a onda komentarišu naučene činjenice, odmah prelaze na komentare i time pokušavaju da sakriju sopstvenu manu.
Za razliku od njih Suzana Stojanović je zaustavila kadrove svog hiperrealističkog načina slikanja i to u pravom trenutku: taman da mi svi vidimo prkos i ponos, silinu i lepotu, blagost i mudrost. Svet konja je rajski deo čovečanstva: Bog je bio milostiv i podario nam je takvu lepotu.
Postoje borbe petlova, borbe pasa, borbe bikova, borbe ljudi. Ne postoje borbe konja. Konji se trkaju da građanski pristojno pobede, konji preskaču prepreke a ne zaobilaze ih i ne ulaze na mala vrata. Konji vuku napred, ljudi vuku ko gde stigne.
Nažalost, konje ubijaju zar ne?
Ne, ne morate mi odgovoriti. Sve mi je jasno.

~ While the guitar is playing ~

2011-07-06T08:40:00.004-07:00

▪ WHILE THE GUITAR IS PLAYING (Major Mitchell, the author of historical novels about the American west and children's books, 2007.)

I was privileged a few months ago to receive an e-mail requesting a link to my author’s website. Normally, I wouldn’t have considered such a request, but the fact that this one came from Serbia caught my eye. I began to investigate, and was introduced to a lovely young lady, Suzana Stojanović Suza. While our communication has been via electronic e-mail over thousands of miles, I would like to share a few observations about her from a fellow writer’s point of view.
It is not often that Almighty God pours out multiple blessings or talents upon a single person, but it seems that He made an exception with Suzana. Born in Vranje, Serbia on April 18, 1969, into a family of intellectuals, she began reading and painting at the age of four. She took a thirteen-year break from her art to dabble in music. I use the term dabble flippantly, since she is an accomplished violinist who composed her first piece at the age of fifteen. She returned to her art and writing in 2001 with The Magical World of Horses series, and many of her paintings are now hanging in private collections in Serbia, the USA, Italy, Switzerland and Slovenia. Suzana has developed the habit of writing a short story to accompany her paintings, and as an American novelist, I would like to focus on those stories.
While the format in which these stories appear (usually as a block or one paragraph) seemed a little awkward, I soon discovered her command of the English language is superb. Most of her writing, with the exception of her rendition of The Prince and The Beggar, would be better described as poetry, rather than mere story-telling. The words flow from a deep-rooted emotion that stirs the reader’s imagination. My personal favorite is We will always be together when the guitar is playing. Since I do not know Suzana Stojanović personally, I can only guess at the source of this passion, but I am thankful it has found an outlet in her art and writing.
There are many things a writer can do right as well as wrong. Every piece of art or literature is designed to invoke any number of emotions or visions, and many authors mistakenly try telling the art enthusiast or reader what to see or feel. This is a huge mistake, since we all see, taste, love or hate from our own life experiences. Not everyone likes Rocky Road ice cream or Western movies. Suzana has a knack for writing only enough to allow her fans to experience their own emotions, instead of forcing them to experience her own.
It is worth a few minutes to visit her website, and browse through her art and read the accompanying stories. I believe she would be an interesting person to meet, and wish her success and health for the future.

~ Suzana and her magical world ~

2011-07-06T08:40:00.003-07:00

▪ SUZANA AND HER MAGICAL WORLD (Davorka Vučak, an artist, 2007.)

I daren't write by chance (because in one of our e-mails, whose existence makes me extremely happy) Suzana wrote that, in different situations in life, "by chance" sometimes means "just an excuse for inexplicable", but that's exactly how I clicked on her magical web page.
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 favourite, 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.

▪ SUZANA I NJEZIN ČAROBAN SVIJET (Davorka Vučak, umetnica, 2007.)

Bojim se napisati slučajno (jer je jednom u našem korespondiranju, za koje sam ja izuzetno sretna da postoji, Suzana za "slučajno" u raznim životnim događanjima, napisala da je to "ponekad samo izgovor za neobjašnjivo"), ali upravo tako sam jednom kliknula na tu njenu magičnu web stranicu.
Kao "bolesni" zaljubljenik u konje i njihov svijet, kao jahačica, ostala sam astonished s onime što su mi Suzanine slike, njena biografija i popratne priče otkrili. Slike i ta topla razmišljanja u "potocima" oslikavaju ljepotu, toplinu, plemenitost, osjećaje, inteligenciju nje same i tih magičnih stvorenja. Poseban je to spoj čovjeka i konja. Ja to jako dobro poznajem. Teško je to postići i osjetiti, a Suzana je upravo to pronašla i u to prodrla. U tu dubinu snažnog, mišićavog tijela koje daje osjećaj moći, u svaku žilu na vratu koja kuca, u iskrenost konjskog oka, bez obzira što nam u nekom momentu to oko želi poručiti; da je u strahu, da je zahvalan za naš dah koji se spojio s njegovim raširenim nozdrvama, da je zahvalan za kocku šećera, za pruženu dragost i ljubav, za hrpu sijena ili zobi koju dočeka kao dijete čokoladu… To je iskreno stvorenje. Iskrenost se teško nalazi u ljudskom rodu. A to onda treba znati pretočiti na platno i u riječi. "Dok stvaram ja uvek verujem da će možda neko tamo daleko da dodirne moju dušu u nekoj od mojih slika, u nekoj od mojih priča." - kaže Suzana. A ja bih rekla da je ona takla i na posebno suptilan način prodrla u moju dušu, naše duše. Nazvala bih je "ambasadoricom plemenitosti".
Svaka je slika prekrasna, svaka je priča prekrasna.
"Sećanja" - kad to čitam, tu suptilnu i istančanu priču, teško mi je, grlo se stisne, jer sam u tome našla svoj život, svoja razmišljanja o uspomenama koje su, kako ona kaže "kuća blaga", o svojoj obitelji koja više ne postoji, o tolikim krasnim malim svakodnevnim stvarima i detaljima koje su činile divan život uz moje roditelje. Iznimne roditelje. A onda ostaje obilje uspomena, toplih i lijepih, veselih, ali i onih koje donose bol. Sve je to Suzana stopila u divnu priču, meni možda najdražu, iako nije fer bilo koju izdvajati iz tog obilja koje su nama istinski lijek. Jer, u svakoj pronađem kamenčiće mozaika svojeg života.
Njeno slikanje, njeno pripovijedanje – kao njeno preludiranje na violini, jer Suzana je i u tome umjetnik. Dakle, njen dar dao joj je mogućnost da to sve stopi i učini i sebi i nama iskorak, rekla bih u svijet, onaj svijet za kojim svi žudimo, ili barem pričamo da žudimo, a kojega toliko rušimo i uništavamo; svijet lijepoga, djece, predivnih stvorenja u svijetu životinja, bajki.
Bože, podari nam više ovakvih posebnosti.

~ All the magical horses ~

2011-07-06T08:40:00.002-07:00

▪ ALL THE MAGICAL HORSES (Jory Sherman, the author of The Ballad of Pinewood Lake, the winner of a Spur Award from the Western writers of America for "THE MEDICINE HORN" and a nominee for a Pulitzer Prize for "GRASS KINGDOM", 2007.)

Serbian riflemen on horseback charge across a plain under a cloudy sky. A horse in harness races to the finish line, its nostrils distended, mane flying in the wind. A lone horse gambols across a meadow, hooves flying, tail flashing high like a gallant flag, turning in mid-flight with a graceful flow of energy that leaves the earthbound viewer breathless. A thoroughbred, with four white stockings, poses with a regal air, head up, turned toward something or someone unseen. Another horse, sensitive nostrils flaring, looks out from the canvas with soulful eyes, the white blaze on its face like molten lightning frozen in its visage. A lone Serb walks ahead of his horse, leading the animal across a sandy plain, the ornate saddle worn like a badge of honor atop the horse’s back. And, a pair of horses seem to be caught in a sudden flash of light, their affection for one another palpable, exquisite.
In the hands of artist Suzana Stojanović, a picture is not only worth a thousand words, she spends that amount, and more, on some of her paintings. She writes "stories" about the horses she draws and paints, but they are not stories in the traditional sense. They are prose poems, essays on life and love and the energy embodied in the universe of horses. These stories are as beautiful as her paintings, evoking deep feelings and tranquil reflections on what the artist sees and feels in that magical world of the horse.
Suzana is an amazing artist. Not only does she delve into realism, but paints in photorealism and hyperrealism. There is an electromagnetism in the latter forms that vibrates not only in the mind, but in the deepest recesses of the human soul. Her prose poems reflect that same light and intensity, but flow so naturally that she achieves a lasting effect as well as a deeper appreciation for both her poetic visions and her art. The complimentary effect embeds both the image and the prose deep into conciousness, giving a kind of mythic structure to her paintings and her prose.
The myth always masks a deeper meaning, a more profound sense of the true, and Suzana’s work achieves that level of intensity. I feel as I pour over her work that she may well be the modern reincarnation of the ancient Gallic goddess, Epona, the goddess of horses. The horse she paints is not Pegasus. It does not have wings. But, beneath the paintings and interwoven into her prose, Pegusus lives and flies. And, when the light is just right, you might see not only one of her horses in a moonlit meadow, but a unicorn in the garden. Such is her power as an artist.

~ By imagination to the truth ~

2011-07-06T08:40:00.001-07:00

▪ BY IMAGINATION TO THE TRUTH (Stana Smiljković, Ph.D., Dean of the Faculty of Pedagogy and the author of many textbooks on the methodology of language and literature, 2007.)

Human nature is enigmatic and mysterious. Even man himself cannot reach its web in the depths, stray and lost thoughts and newborn ideas. Images of dreams emerge and warn, govern and protect. Consicousness exists to set a man straight. "All we have is ourselves, but we aren't aware of how much we have" - says Suzana Stojanović, a painter and a writer, in one of her stories.
A word, as well as a painting, has its own power. They dignify, talk, warn and whip with that power. Misfortunes are overcome by words as well as harmony is shown through them. Out of the cosmic chaos, a word should come out as a winner, galloping. Suzana's word on the existence and overpowering the chaos galloped its way out together with her horse paintings. The poetess doesn't speak long and much. Even with silence she expresses the symphonies of her thoughts on the struggle of good and evil, on faith in the existence and the creation of our own lives, on the silence of solitude.
Faith in the existence is a supreme task that man has to accomplish. The unshakeable faith in the power of art and the wisdom of existence permeates the reflections expressed in one breath and one move. Obsessed both with the eternal struggle against the inhuman in man and sorrow because of the inability to protect our own personality from "nobody" in ourselves, Suzana Stojanović travels, worries, cries for help and warns the reason because "only imagination will go to eternity, taking with itself all of its secrets which have been hidden from ignorance and short-sightedness for centuries".
The stories before us aren't stories in literal and theoretical sense. They are more like thoughts on the wisdom of the existence of the real spirit, the balance of mind and body, a man's desire to win the genuine human sense and true face. Being conscious of ourselves means being conscious of others as well. The struggle for the ideas which strengthen our spirit intertwines within the lines of lyrical prose, thus finding out with certainty the possibilites for a true survival. Suzana regrets the fact that "there are more and more evil men" while knowing that only the one with great heart wins, only the one who helps the lost and a better one, the one who believes in visions and hears the impossible...The winner sleeps inside us and waits for the bells to wake him up.
The imaginary awareness of the world is attached to the realistic one. Running away from the reality as the author sees it and the transmission into the world of imagination allows the author the unlimited freedom which belongs to her only; it protects her from the chaos that threatens to destroy the ultimate labyrinth - the human freedom of mind and spirit. And there, on encountering wonderful and fantastic landscapes and events in the stories, you should open and close the door with caution and fear. Even though the author believes in optimism, fear of the known and especially the unknown awakens her senses, her visions and she yields herself to the infinite word game and its meaning. There is Phoenix, Daedalus and Icarus, The Prince and The Beggar - good and evil to block the paths. There's Suzana's imagination with which she achieves a greater wisdom and a metaphorical vision of reality. With her paintings and stories she has created the world which is only hers, considering it a better one.

▪ MAŠTOM DO ISTINE (Prof. dr Stana Smiljković, 2007.)

Čovekova duša je zagonetna i tajnovita. Ni sam ne može da dohvati njene mreže u dubinama, zalutale i izgubljene misli, začete ideje. Slike snova izranjaju i opominju, upravljaju ili čuvaju. Svest je tu da uputi čoveka. "Imamo samo sebe, a nismo ni svesni koliko mnogo imamo" - kaže Suzana Stojanović, slikar i pisac, u jednoj od svojih priča.
Reč kao i slika imaju svoju moć. Njome oplemenjuju, vode razgovore, njome opominju, ali i šibaju. Rečima se pobeđuju nesreće, i iskazuju harmonije. Iz kosmičkog haosa reč treba da izađe kao pobednik. Da izgalopira. Suzanina reč o postojanju i nadvladavanju haosa je izgalopirala zajedno sa slikama konja. Pesnikinja ne govori dugo i mnogo. I ćutanjem iskazuje simfonije svojih misli o borbi dobra sa zlom, o veri u postojanje i kreaciji sopstvenog života, o tišini samoće.
Vera u postojanje vrhunski je zadatak koji čovek mora da ispuni. Nepokolebljivost vere u snagu umetnosti i mudrosti postojanja prožima refleksije iskazane jednim dahom i jednim potezom. Opsednuta večitom borbom protiv nečoveka u čoveku i tugom zbog nemogućnosti odbrane sopstvene ličnosti od nikoga u sebi, Suzana Stojanović putuje, brine, vapi, opominje razum, jer u "večnost će otputovati samo mašta i poneće sa sobom sve svoje tajne vekovima skrivane od neznanja i kratkovidosti".
Priče pred nama nisu priče u knjizevnoteorijskom određenju. Više su to misli o mudrosti postojanja pravog duha, o ravnoteži duha i tela, o želji da se čovek izbori za pravi ljudski smisao i istinito lice. Svest o sebi čuva i svest o drugima. Borba za ideje kojima se osnažuje duh prožima tekstove lirske proze i sa sigurnosću nalazi mogućnosti pravog opstanka. Suzana žali: "što je sve više loših ljudi", a zna da pobeđuje samo onaj ko ima veliko srce, onaj ko pruža ruku posrnulom i boljem od sebe, onaj ko veruje u vizije i čuje nemoguće...Pobednik spava u nama i čeka zvona da ga probude."
Na realno saznanje o svetu nadovezuje se bajkovito. Bežanje od stvarnosti kakvu doživljava autor, prelazak u okvire mašte dopušta bezgranično, i samo njenu slobodu, brani je od haosa koji preti da razori krajnji lavirint - ljudsku slobodu misli i duha. I tamo, pri susretu u pričama sa čudesnim i fantastičnim predelima i događajima, sa oprezom i strahom treba otvarati i zatvarati vrata. Iako autor veruje u optimizam, ipak strah od poznatog, a naročito nepoznatog budi njena čula, njene vizije i ona se predaje beskrajnoj igri rečima i njenim smislom. Tu su: Feniks, Dedal i Ikar, kraljević i prosjak - dobro i zlo da pregrade puteve. Tu je mašta Suzanina kojom postiže višu mudrost i slikovitu viziju stvarnosti. Stvorila je slikom i pričom svet koji je samo njen, smatrajući ga boljim.

~ It's all relative ~

2011-07-06T08:40:00.000-07:00

▪ IT'S ALL RELATIVE (Momčilo Zlatanović, PhD, the professor of literature at the University of Pedagogy and the University of Philosophy; a member of the association of Serbian writers, the Association of scientists and artists of Niš and a permanent member-assistant of Matica Srpska in Novi Sad; the author of a number of books on folk poems, dictionaries, monographies and a collector of prose folk literature, 2007.)

These are reflective poetic texts. Even lyrical-meditative. This kind of literature isn't articulated enough as a creation. It hasn't been researched enough. Many theories of literature don't even mention it. Suzana gives them interesting name - short enigmatic stories. Enigma is their basic idea.
I've read them twice. Carefully. I liked them all. The author is self-centred but there is much space for the reader as well. For today's reader, torn by a busy lifestyle and worries that dramatic time has brought, they can represent a valuable reading material. Suzana's got a refined sense for the man of today, for his disturbed soul. He has to be wise in order to find his way in the dark which is brought by the lights of civilization.
I think these lyrical jewels should be published.
It goes without saying that I liked The Prince and The Beggar as well. There are some wise teachings in it, including this one - it's all relative.

▪ SVE JE RELATIVNO (Prof. dr Momčilo Zlatanović, profesor narodne književnosti Učiteljskog i Filozofskog fakulteta; član udruženja književnika Srbije, Asocijacije naučnika i umetnika u Nišu i stalni član saradnik Matice Srpske u Novom Sadu; autor više knjiga narodnih pesama, rečnika, monografija i sakupljač proznih narodnih umotvorina, 2007.)

Ovo su misaono poetski tekstovi. Čak lirsko-meditivni. Ova književna vrsta nije dovoljno artikulisana kao kreacija. Malo je proučavana. Mnoge teorije književnosti je i ne pominju.
Suzana im daje interesantan naziv - kratke enigmatične priče. Enigma je njihova osnovna misao.
Pročitao sam ih dva puta. S pažnjom. Sve su mi se dopale. Autor je okrenut sebi ali i za čitaoca ima dovoljno prostora.
Za današnjeg čitaoca, rastrzanog ubrzanim tempom života i brigama koje je donelo ovo dramatično vreme, one mogu predstavljati dragoceno štivo.
Suzana ima istančano osećanje za današnjeg čoveka, za njegovu uznemirenu dušu. On mora biti mudar za snalaženje u mraku koji donosi svetlost civilizacije.
Mislim da bi ove lirske medaljone trebalo objaviti.
Razume se, dopala mi se i priča "Kraljević i prosjak". U njoj ima mudrosti. Jedna je i ova - sve je relativno.

~ Young talents: painting is her love ~

2011-07-06T08:39:00.004-07:00

▪ YOUNG TALENTS: PAINTING IS HER LOVE (N.M. Newspaper "Vranjske", 1984.)

Only now when the school year is over can Suzana Stojanović, one of the top three pupils at "Vuk Karadžić" school in Vranje, get some rest. This summer break will really do her good as she couldn't rest at all during the school year. This little girl spent almost all of her time at school, primary of the school of music, either participating in many sections or preparing for numerous competitions.
And in between her regular classes and the violin classes, forgetting for a moment about the complex world of numbers and complicated mathematical rules, Suzana was taking her sketching block and coloured pencils, devoting herself entirely to the world of drawings and paintings. Since the earliest childhood she was trying to draw, though not with precision, everything that surrounded her and in that way express all of her feelings.
Suzana is now 15 and her love for painting is never-ending. On the contrary, her artistic talent is becoming more and more expressed. Numerous competitions won in this field testify to that. Suzana is at the same time the only representative of the county district of Vranje who, together with the other children with the artistic talent from the other parts of the Republic, participated in Vuk's 13th gathering that was held in Loznica. Her immense artistic talent was shown once again. She was chosen to participate in the Pupil's art colony which was held in Petrovac on the river Mlava from 24th-30th June.
Suzana has recently won three significant awards - two for her artistic and one for her literary work in contest the children's magazine Kekec organized under the name of "That's brotherhood and unity". This summer she is going to participate in two more art colonies in our county district - in Dobrejanac and Prohor Pčinjski.
- I particularly like painting portraits - this talented girl says. I'm especially fond of Tito's portrait, the one awarded in the contest of Kekec magazine and published in the almanac.
Music is Suzana's other great love. She has won significant awards in this field, too. Last year, out of 26 compositions which were chosen for the 8th Festival of children's creative work in the field of music, two were Suzana's. She composed "The Yearning" and "The Indian Camp" for the violin, not hoping to be awarded. She even lost her sheet music. Fortunately, she knew her compositions by heart so everything ended well.
Suzana likes other subjects, too. She has won numerous awards for both literary work and maths. Still, she regrets the fact that like most other children of her age she doesn't have more time for walking, playing with her friends or going out.

▪ MLADI TALENTI: SLIKARSTVO JE NJENA LJUBAV (N.M., "Vranjske" novine, 1984.)

Tek sada, kada je školska godina završena, Suzana Stojanović, jedna od tri najbolje učenice osnovne škole "Vuk Karadžić" u Vranju, može malo da predahne. Njoj će letnji raspust zaista dobrodoći, jer tokom školske godine skoro da nije imala ni časa odmora. Gotovo sve vreme ova devojčica provodila je u školi, osnovnoj ili muzičkoj, učestvovala u radu mnogih sekcija, pripremala se za brojna takmičenja.
A u predahu između redovne nastave i časova violine, zaboravljajući na trenutak zamršen svet brojki i komplikovana matematička pravila, Suzana je uzimala blok i boje, sva se posvećujući svetu crteža i slika. Još od najranijeg detinjstva, nepreciznom dečjom rukom, pokušavala je da na crtežu predstavi sve ono što je okružuje, da na taj način izrazi sva svoja osećanja.
Suzani je sada petnaest godina, a njena ljubav prema slikanju ne prestaje. Naprotiv. Njen talenat prema ovoj vrsti umetnosti postaje sve izraženiji. O tome svedoče i mnogobrojne prve nagrade na takmičenjima iz ove oblasti. Suzana je i jedini predstavnik vranjske opštine koje je ove godine u Loznici, zajedno sa mladim talentima u oblasti likovnog stvaralaštva iz ostalih krajeva Republike, učestvovala na 13. Vukovom saboru. I ovom prilikom njen talenat došao je do punog izražaja. Izabrana je za učesnika Đačke likovne kolonije, koja je od 24. do 30. juna održana u Petrovcu na Mlavi.
Suzani je nedavno stiglo još jedno vredno priznanje. Dobila je tri "Kekecova" pera, dva za likovne i jedno za literarni rad, u okviru akcije ovog lista "To je bratstvo i jedinstvo". Ovog leta očekuje je učešće još u dve likovne kolonije u našoj opštini, u Dobrejancu i Prohoru Pčinjskom.
- Posebno volim da slikam portrete, kaže ova nadarena devojčica. Titov portret, jedan od nagrađenih u "Kekecovoj" akciji i objavljen u kalendaru "Turističke štampe" naročito mi je drag.
Muzika je Suzanina druga velika ljubav. Vredna priznanja požnjela je i u ovoj oblasti. Prošle godine, na kongresu dečjeg muzičkog stvaralaštva, od 26 izabranih kompozicija za Osmi FEDEMUS, dve su bile Suzanine. Za violinu je komponovala "Čežnju" i "Indijanski logor", ne računajući ni na kakvu nagradu. Tako se i desilo da je izgubila note. Srećom, svoje kompozicije znala je napamet pa se sve dobro završilo.
Voli Suzana i ostale predmete. Mnoge nagrade osvojila je u oblasti literarnog stvaralaštva, kao i matematike. Ipak, pomalo žali što, kao većina njenih vršnjaka, nema više vremena za šetnju, igru, izlaske.

~ Horses have soul too ~

2011-07-06T08:39:00.003-07:00

▪ HORSES HAVE SOUL TOO (Z. Aracki, Newspaper "Novosti", 2001.)

A work of art or a photograph? That's the first and the greatest dilemma for those who see the work of young Suzana Stojanović from Niš. Because what their eyes see looks so real as if it was "about to speak". And yet, they are looking at the paintings that belong to hyperrealism, a movement which involves hardly any women painters all around Europe. "Horses cannot lie", says the young artist. "They are sincere when they love, when they are furious, joyful or sad. I've tried to look into their soul..."

▪ I KONJI IMAJU DUŠU (Z. Aracki, "Novosti", 2001.)

Umetnička slika ili fotografija? To je prva i velika dilema sa kojom se susretnu oni koji vide radove mlade Nišlijke Suzane Stojanović. Jer, ono što oko vidi toliko je verno da samo što "ne progovori".
Pa ipak, reč je o umetničkim slikama koje pripadaju hiperrealizmu, pravcu u kome u čitavoj Evropi žena gotovo da nema.
- Konji ne umeju da lažu - tvrdi mlada slikarka. - Oni su iskreni i kada vole i kad su besni i kad su veseli i kad su tužni. Ja sam pokušala da prodrem u njihovu dušu...

~ The Magical World of Horses ~

2011-07-06T08:39:00.002-07:00

▪ THE MAGICAL WORLD OF HORSES (S.L. Newspaper "Slobodna reč", 2002.)

In order to paint a great painting, it is necessary to have knowledge of many different fields, because that is the way of getting into the essence of what you want to present, says the artist who at the same time nurtures literature, music and painting. - The pride and breed are the themes of these beautiful works whose author represents a fine combination of a lady and an artist, who at the same time nurtures literature, music and painting. With these words painter Dragan Sotirović opened an exhibition named "The Magical World of Horses" in the gallery of the National University last Friday. Its author, Suzana Stojanović, was born in Vranje, but she lives and works in Niš. After she had finished High school of mathematics and technical science and High school of music, specializing in the violin, she studied literature even though painting remained her main passion. This extremely humble girl rarely speaks about her numerous domestic and international awards. Apart from the music festival awards and primary and secondary republic school competitions in match, physics and literature, she is also the youngest winner of the 7th September award in art of the city of Vranje. Maybe that was the crucial moment for her to devote herself to painting even though she is a graduate student of literature.

▪ MAGIJSKI SVET HATOVA (S.L. "Slobodna reč", 2002.)
Da bi se napravila dobra slika potrebno je poznavati mnoge oblasti, jer se tako može ući u suštinu onoga što se želi predstaviti, kaže umetnica koja uporedo neguje literaturu, muziku i slikarstvo.
- Ponos i rasa su tema ovih lepih radova čiji je autor fina kombinacija dame i umetnice koja uporedo neguje literaturu, muziku i slikarstvo. Ovim rečima je slikar Dragan Sotirović, prošlog petka, u Galeriji Narodnog Univerziteta otvorio izložbu pod nazivom "Magijski svet hatova".
Njen autor Suzana Stojanović, rođena je u Vranju a živi i radi u Nišu. Nakon završetka srednje matematičko-tehničke i srednje muzičke škole gde se bila posvetila violini, studirala je književnost ali joj je slikarstvo ostalo u prvom planu. O svojim brojnim domaćim i međunarodnim priznanjima, ova izuzetno skromna devojka nerado govori. Pored nagrada na muzičkim svečanostima i republičkim takmičenjima osnovnih i srednjih škola iz matematike, fizike, književnosti, najmlađi je dobitnik "Sedmoseptembarskog priznanja grada Vranja" iz oblasti likovne umetnosti. Možda je to bilo presudno da se prepusti slikarstvu iako je apsolvent književnosti...

~ A sparkle in the eyes of Suzana's horses ~

2011-07-06T08:39:00.001-07:00

▪ A SPARKLE IN THE EYES OF SUZANA'S HORSES (B. Janacković, Newspaper "Blic", 2002.)

The horse portraits painted by Suzana Stojanović (32), the artist from Niš, are magnificently real. They are magnificent not because the spatial, third dimension can be noticed almost immediately in these hyperreal paintings, but because of the warmth coming out of each painting - from the eyes of these noble four-legged animals, that, according to the legend, the Almighty made out of a gust of wind. As if it was alive...- an amazed young art lover said as he was standing for a couple of minutes with his eyes wide open in front of the portrait of a bay horse with bulging hindquarters, which was captured skillfully at a full gallop, waiting for it to make the next move. And the young painter, also a graduate student of literature, made her first moves with the paintbrush when she was four. Her indisputable talent was proven when she won an international award while attending the sixth grade of primary school. From then on, she paints oils on canvas (realism only), and up to now she has painted more than 250 paintings with nature and rural motives, portraits of people...Now, she is exclusively painting horses. There's an entire horse herd on the walls of a small living-room - 20 exquisite portraits of black horses, Lipizzaner horses, Arabian horses and ponies...

▪ SJAJ U OKU SUZANINIH KONJA (B. Janacković,"Blic", 2002.)
Čudesno su stvarni portreti konja niške slikarke Suzane Stojanović (32). Čudesno, ne zbog toga što se u slikama, urađenim u maniru visokog realizma, gotovo jasno može nazreti prostorna, treća dimenzija, već zbog topline koja izvire iz svake slike, iz očiju plemenitih četvoronozaca, koje je, kako propoveda legenda, Bog stvorio od vetra.
- Kao da je živ...- izusti jedan očarani, mladi posetilac dok je kao skamenjen nekoliko minuta, širom otvorenih očiju, stajao pred portretom dorata nabreklih sapi, vešto uhvaćenog u trku, čekajuci da načini sledeći pokret.
A mlada slikarka, inače apsolvent književnosti, prve poteze četkicom načinila je još sa četiri godine. Nesumnjivi talenat potvrđen je priznanjem osvojenim na međunarodnom konkursu u šestom razredu osnovne skole. Od tada radi ulje na platnu, isključivo realizam, i do sada iza sebe ima oko 250 slika: seoskih motiva i prirode, portreta ljudi...Sada slika isključivo konje. U malenoj dnevnoj sobi na zidovima je cela ergela - 20 volšebnih portreta vranaca, lipicanera, arabera, ponija...

~ The Magical World of Horses ~

2011-07-06T08:39:00.000-07:00

▪ THE MAGICAL WORLD OF HORSES (Miroslav Popović, The trotting almanac of Serbia, "KAS" art, 2002.)

In a mysterious world of paintings portraits have always been the greatest challenge of all; silent guardians at the gates of the forbidden garden. Human nature can be seen both in the eyes and on the face of a man. The portrait is deprived of physical movement but what makes a portrait a masterpiece is the spiritual inner world that is already reflected on our faces and in our eyes for the whole eternity. The invention of camera has made the portrait painters almost disappear from the world of art.
In the last century, in which the spiritual was transformed into the material, it seemed that the ultimate challenge to paint the intangible attracts artists less and less. And then, at the end of the 20th century, a young woman decided to start painting portraits of horses. Her name is Suzana Stojanović and she has been living in the world of magical realism of winged Pegasus and proud Bukefal for years.
"A horse has always been the inspiration for the artists. Leonardo da Vinci himself said that not only painting a horse was a challenge, but that it also took a lot of courage to accept it - Suzana tells us. Up to know she has painted more than 250 oils on canvas. She is using the oil pastel technique at the moment which won her the admiration of Dragan Malešević Tapi himself.
"It's done on the cardboard, colours don't mix and not the slightest mistake is allowed. The work keeps on for days and nights, but my love towards horses makes me forget my great effort and hard work. A horse can be beautiful but if you don't give it your heart and soul it will never look alive in the painting, it will only remain "beautiful".
Full of life and beautiful. Suzana's portraits are horse psychology encyclopedia of its kind. Within vivid frames various moods of these long-legged animals are being captured by using a range of different colours - something that the greatest experts at the horses' nature only feel intuitively but are often unable to express it. Suzana's paintings can do that. It seems as if her horses spoke of their secret inner world which was galloping just beside our daily life and the world of oblivion - familiar to all of us, but indistinct as the thud of horses' hooves in the blue distance, in the evening...

▪ MAGIJSKI SVET HATOVA (Miroslav Popović, Kasački Almanah Srbije,"KAS" art, 2002.)

U tajanstvenom slikarskom vilajetu portreti oduvek behu kraljevski izazov, nemi čuvari na kapijama zabranjenog vrta. Oči su ogledalo duše a lice ogledalo čovečije. Portret je lišen fizičkog pokreta, ali, onaj teg, sav od retkog dragog kamenja, na terazijama vrednovanja slikarske veštine, koji čini portret vrhunskim umećem, jeste - unutrašnji Pokret ili dijalektički damar Unutarnjeg, duševnog sveta koji se vec čitavu večnost ogleda. Na licu. U očima.
Pronalazak fotografskog aparata i filmske kamere učinio je da portretisti gotovo izblede na svetskoj slikarskoj mapi. U prošlom veku, u kojem je duh potonuo u materiju, činilo se da sveti poziv u lov na Neuhvatljivo sve manje privlači umetnike.
A onda, pred kraj dvadesetog veka, jedna mlada žena odluči da slika portrete konja. Njeno ime je Suzana Stojanović, i već godinama živi u svetu magijskog realizma krilatog Pegaza i ponosnog Bukefala.
"Konj je večita inspiracija za umetnike. Sam Leonardo da Vinči je rekao da je izazov raditi konja i da je potrebna velika hrabrost upustiti se u taj izazov." - pripoveda Suzana. Do sada je naslikala preko 250 ulja na platnu. Trenutno radi tehniku uljani pastel pred kojom je skinuo kapu i jedan Dragan Malešević Tapi.
"Radi se na kartonu, boje se ne mešaju, nije dopuštena ni najmanja greška. Radi se danima, noćima, ali, ljubav prema konjima čini da zaboravim na veliki napor i uložen trud. Konj moze da bude lep, ali, ako mu ne date srce i dušu on nikada neće biti živ na slici, on će ostati samo lep."
Živi i lepi. Suzanini portreti svojevrsna su enciklopedija psihologije konja. Unutar živopisnih ramova uhvaćena je bogata paleta raspoloženja vitkonogih ljubimaca, ono što i najveći poznavaoci konjske duše slute i osećaju ali često ne mogu to saznanje da saopšte. Suzanine slike to mogu. Njeni konji kao da govore o svom unutrašnjem, tajnom svetu, koji galopira tik pored našeg sveta svakodnevlja i zaborava - svima nama blizak, ali nejasan kao topot mnogih konjskih nogu, predveče, u plavoj daljini.

~ As if they were alive ~

2011-07-06T08:38:00.001-07:00

▪ AS IF THEY WERE ALIVE (Mima Majstorović, Magazine "Politika", 2002.)

"I'm speechless. This is fantastic! How in the world has she managed to depict horse hair like that?" - a young design student from Belgrade shouted spontaneously while standing in front of one of Suzana's paintings exhibited in Geca Kon Gallery. Upon opening the exhibition in Pančevo, a famous hyperrealist Dragan Malešević Tapi wrote down his impressions: "Well done, you are a true artist. When I first saw your paintings I thought they were actual photographs. Congratulations."

▪ KAO DA SU ŽIVI (Mima Majstorović, Magazin "Politika", 2002.)
Bez reči sam. Ovo je fantastično! Kako je samo uspela da tako oslika konjsku dlaku? - spontano je uzviknula u Galeriji "Geca Kon" pred slikom Suzane Stojanović mlada Beograđanka, studentkinja dizajna. A poznati hiperrealista Dragan Malešević Tapi, otvarajući izložbu u Pančevu, upisao je u knjigu utisaka: "Alal ti vera, veliki si majstor. Kada sam prvi put video tvoje slike, mislio sam da su fotografije. Čestitam ti."

~ The stunning realism of Serbian artist Suzana Stojanović ~

2011-07-06T08:38:00.000-07:00

▪ THE STUNNING REALISM OF SERBIAN ARTIST SUZANA STOJANOVIĆ (Author John Sebastian, Magazine "The New York Optimist", 2010.)

The New York Optimist is a weekly online magazine focusing on the arts, painting, sculpture, filmmaking, photography, fashion, dining, education, health care, events in and around town and nightlife of New York City. It's a multi media company focusing on the arts and lifestyles. The New York Optimist is a online magazine that will print 4 times a year a collectors edition with original prints by famous Artists in photography and fine painting and sculpture. This magazine can be viewed as an interactive resource for Lifestyles and The Arts, education and Business Spotlights that cover most industries including Real Estate, Fine Dining, Travel, Interior Design, Education and Live news feeds from CBS, NBC, and many other information based companies and web sites. Reaching an educated and affluent audience that come to the web site weekly to read feature articles by the finest journalists in their field covering the subjects that matter most to readers. Check news that’s updated daily, see the hottest artists and the galleries or locations where you can see their work.

~ Magical World or necessary sugar cube ~

2011-07-06T08:37:00.000-07:00

▪ INTERVIEW: MAGICAL WORLD OR NECESSARY SUGAR CUBE (RužicaZ.N. Stojković, Newspaper "Danas", 2003.)

Agirl with downy flapped cap, that "must to have" detail of thegeneration inherited from the pile of values, ideals and all together"heavenly chases" of her own parents and "close relatives",appeared before time to the appointed meeting. She was sitting at the chairsquirming as if she were at the dentist`s. She was speeding up the beginning ofthe conversation, which was a possible indicator that she would be a littlepushed to speak, because it seemed that she had been one of those who liked"to push fast to the end". Music that slowly overcame our hosts cozyautumn saloon, tucked up with the fragrances of early coming autumn, dimmedlight of delicately placed lamps, as if it were that necessary associate torelax a young woman in the lack of time. However, she pulled her cap even moreto her flaming eyes.

Whois Suzana actually? It was a kind of beginning.

-From the earliest days that I remember, I was doing only the things that I wasfeeling, not accepting to do anything I didn`t like. Painting is something thatwas making me complete, that I liked, since at the age of four I starteddrawing and very soon my first horse in natural size appeared on the wall of myroom. It is still there, always waits for me when I visit my house in Vranje,beautiful, magical, the one - because it is alive all the time. Fifteen yearslater I stopped painting.

Onthe question "why", she decisively responds "way too personalquestion". On the repeated question, she more willingly answers that shewould never paint just for painting "it is completely spontaneous in mycase, I never know when I would paint, simply I do not force myself - escapingfrom "personal". Not before the insinuation that arts are before allpossibly personal matter, Suzana Stojanović accepts. "I stoppedinstinctively, as I instinctively paint. The circumstances were like I feltthat I "had to" stop and with that I protected somehow both paintingand myself. I was suffering, but frankly my paintings were suffering too, deepdown in myself, but when I returned 13 years ago I think that it had to be likethat somehow. It was a period of my maturing, a period of new perceptions. Thethings I see now, I could not see then, possibly I was not able to see then".

Wasthat creative silence, collecting and "storing on one safe place"perception?

-I knew that "it" will happen one day again, that is why I keptsilent, I collected, took care of that, although the return to painting couldhappen even after thirty years, or in any other unspecific period. However, Ikept all palettes and a few unfinished paintings.

Theperiod of silence ceases after thirteen years and preserved passion of nineteenyears old girl starts to pour out. You, as a young woman started "onceagain". Did something specific happen then?

-It is complex, and that sort of my silence is a new beginning. Both of themstarted from me, nothing from the outer world did motivate myself, all was onlyin me. Love moves me-belief that in this world there is something more supreme,something "close personal". I did not go into painting for money orfame. I paint because I like to do that, I cannot explain that, it is my world.I do not know at all how does the moment of going into painting looks like, themoment of getting into that beautiful world. Indeed, while I think when I do mydrawing, I recall of that, but in the moment I have palette in my hands,everything stops and colour occupies me and carries me away.

Yourpaintings belong to modern, high realism or hyperrealism. There are bigdisputes and very much divided thoughts on these "movements"?

-My thinking about any sort of realism, no matter which degree you give to it,is not going into details, of, for example, horse portrait or human portrait.It is important to represent real space, real creature-person, real part of aday, it is realism for me, all lights, shadows, reality in richness of endlesslights play. It is always connected to my mood, moment when I see something insome way and how it all looks like "in my head". While I paint I donot stick to some of the principles, I paint how I feel. Painting is freedom.People feel that, painting is love, painting is artist`s soul. Painting issomething more than painting itself - it is a "subject" ofobservation. If painting is not "alive", people can feel that, I donot know how myself, but one painting is more than a painting, it is life andfreedom.

Freedomas a universal postulate of humanity, is one high and hard objective,frequently something that cannot be realized in many spheres of creation andlife. How do you reach it?

-To work and to do the things you truly desire to do, is very hard, but if you areready to try, it might possibly succeed. I do not put up with force, I workonly the things I like, in which I believe. I do not have prototypes, I do notuse only special palette paints, special preparations, special brushes (one ofthe colleagues with Academy once stopped and exaltedly said "original VanDyke brown", I asked him to show me that in the painting, and then Ishowed him the tube of our "home made" palette paint. He did notbelieve!). I buy material from many different producers and it is not importantto me whether they are highly ranked or not, since everything is in my fingersand my head. I buy preparations mostly in bookstores, sometimes I make themmyself, but I do not make a fuss about it. It does not deal with any kind ofphilosophy, or paints, preparations but it deals with courage itself. For agood painting it is necessary to have something more than courage alone. It iscondensed and unconscious - I am conscious when I start my painting and when Isign it, everything in-between is total power of the painting over me. Theprocess of creation is completely irrational; sometimes I create painting froma single drawing, sometimes only with fingers and colours, but I do not decideupon that consciously.

Whya horse?

-They intrude somehow themselves, not with their beauty, it is possibly the lastthat forced me to paint them, but with their looks in the eyes, carried forcenturies, as if they were collected in their glance. They simply haunt me. Intheir first phase, as a little girl, I painted horses too, although rarely, Idraw and paint people most of all, and now, I do only horses. I will wait forsome time - the moment when I will recognize in people the people again, ifthey awake in them. Horses are "on their own", nobody possesses them,and people are very wrong, because horses are one un-ceased net of ourexistence. People are not consequent, free, courageous, while horses are allthese things. I will soon get very my "own horse" , but no one willposses anyone in that situation. I am looking forward to its coming, our"talks" and sugar cubes with which we make them happy. It will comesoon, but for now it is a secret, although it will be his name -"Secret".

▪ INTERVJU: MAGIJSKI SVET ILI NEOPHODNA KOCKA ŠEĆERA (Ružica Z.N. Stojković, "Danas" 2003.)

Ko je Suzana zapravo, bio je mogući početak?

- Od najranijih dana kojih se sećam, radila sam samo ono što osećam, nepristajući da činim nešto što ne volim. Slikanje je ono što me je ispunjavalo, što sam volela, jer sam sa četiri godine počela da crtam, i ubrzo je nastao moj prvi hat u prirodnoj veličini, na zidu moje sobe. On je i danas tamo, uvek me čeka kad god odem u svoju rodnu kuću u Vranju, lep, čaroban, pravi, jer živi sve vreme. Petnaest godina kasnije prestala sam da slikam.

Na čuđenje "zašto?", odlučno odgovara, "to je previše lično pitanje". Na ponovljeno pitanje, pomirljivije odgovara da nikada nije slikala da bi slikala, "to je kod mene sasvim spontano, ja nikad ne znam kad ću slikati, prosto ne silim sebe - bežeći od "ličnog". Tek na insinuaciju da je umetnost možda pre svega lična, Suzana Stojanović pristaje. "Prestala sam spontano, kao što spontano i slikam, splet okolnosti je bio takav da sam osećala kako "moram" da prestanem, time sam štitila i svoje slikanje i sebe. Patila sam, doduše, kao i slike koje su bile u meni, ali kad se sad vratim trinaest godina unazad, mislim da je baš tako i moralo da bude. Bio je to period sazrevanja, novih percepcija. Ono što sad vidim tada nisam mogla da vidim, možda, nisam ni umela".

Je li to bilo kreativno ćutanje, skupljanje i "pohranjivanje na sigurnom" percepcija?

- Znala sam da će se "to" jednog dana desiti ponovo, zato sam ćutala, skupljala, čuvala, mada je povratak slikarstvu mogao da se desi i za trideset godina, ili u neki sasvim neodređeni period. Ali, sve boje sam čuvala, kao i nekoliko nedovršenih slika.

Period ćutanja prestaje nakon trinaest godina, i počinje da "kulja" sačuvana strast devetnaestogodišnje devojke, vi kao mlada žena počinjete "ponovo". Da li se nešto posebno desilo?

- Kompleksno je, i to moje ćutanje i novi početak. I jedno i drugo je krenulo iznutra, iz mene, ništa me iz spoljnog sveta nije motivisalo, sve je bilo samo u meni. Pokreće me ljubav, vera da na ovom svetu postoji nešto uzvišenije, nešto "sasvim lično". Nisam krenula u slikanje zbog slave ili novca. Slikam jer je meni lepo, jer volim da slikam, to ne mogu da objašnjavam, to je moj svet. Uopšte ne znam kako nastaje tren ulaženja u sliku, u taj lepi svet. Doduše, dok razmišljam, kad radim crtež, toga se i "prisetim", ali onog trena kad se dohvatim boje, sve prestaje i boja me potpuno obuzme i nosi.

Vaše slike pripadaju moderni, visokom realizmu ili hiperrealizmu. Velike su rasprave i veoma podeljena mišljenja o tim "pravcima"?

- Moje mišljenje o bilo kojoj vrsti realizma, ma kako ga stepenovali, nije detaljisanje, recimo portreta konja ili čoveka. Važno mi je da predstavim realni prostor, realno biće, realno doba dana, to je za mene realizam, svi valeri, gameni, senke, svetla, realnost u bogatstvu beskrajne igre svetlosti. To je uvek vezano za moje raspoloženje, tren u kome ja nešto vidim i kako to sve izgleda "u mojoj glavi". Dok slikam ne pridržavam se nekih principa, slikam kako osećam. Slikanje je sloboda. Ljudi to osećaju, slika je čovek, slika je ljubav, slika je slikareva duša. Slika je nešto više od slike, to nije "predmet" koji se posmatra. Ako slika nije "živa" ljudi to osete, ne znam ni sama kako, ali slika je više od slike, ona je život i sloboda.

Sloboda kao univerzalni postulat humanosti je visoki i težak cilj, često neostvarljiv u mnogim oblastima stvaralaštva i života. Kako je vi dohvatate?

- Raditi samo ono što istinski želite, jeste teško ali ako ste spremni da probate, možda i uspe. Ja ne trpim prisilu, radim uvek ono što želim, u šta verujem. Nemam uzore, ne koristim specijalne boje (kolega sa Akademijom je jednom zapanjeno stao i rekao ushićeno "original Van Dajkova braon", ja sam ga zamolila da mi je pokaže na slici, a potom mu pokazala tubu "naše" boje. Nije verovao!), posebne preparature, posebne četke... Materijal kupujem od različitih proizvođača, nije mi važno jesu li visokomarkirani, jer je sve u mojim prstima i glavi. Preparature najčešće kupujem u knjižarama, nekad sama uradim, ali ne "filozofiram" na te teme. Tu se ne radi o filozofiji, ni o bojama, preparaturama, reč je o hrabrosti. Za dobru sliku potrebno je i više od hrabrosti. To je kondezovano nesvesno - svesna sam samo kad počnem sliku i kad stavim potpis, sve između je potpuna vlast slike nada mnon. Proces stvaranja je potpuno iracionalan, nekad sliku stvaram iz crteža, nekada samo prstima i bojom, ali, o tome ne odlučujem svesno.

Sloboda, hrabrost, vera u sebe, da li ste nekada posumnjali, zastali pred kritikom?

- Slikam zbog sebe, i da, hrabra sam, ne razmišljam ni o čemu što se dešavalo od 2001. do 2003. godine kada je i nastao ovaj ciklus "Magijski svet hatova", niti sam šta očekivala. Radila sam jer sam morala, i mislim da svako ko slika zbog drugih, da bi postao slavan, neće uspeti.

Zašto konj?

- Oni se nameću, ne lepotom, to je možda poslednje što me je nagnalo da ih slikam, pre je to njihov pogled, ono što vekovima nose, kao da je nakupljeno u njihovom pogledu. Prosto me proganjaju. U svojoj prvoj fazi, kao devojčurak, slikala sam i konje, mada ređe, pre svega ljude, a sada samo konje. Čekam neko vreme kad ću u ljudima prepoznavati ponovo ljude, ako se oni u njima probude. Konji su "svoji", njih niko ne poseduje, i ljudi su tu u strašnoj zabludi, jer konji su neprekinuta mreža naših postojanja. Ljudi nisu dosledni, slobodni, hrabri, dok konji to jesu. Ja ću uskoro dobiti "svoga" konja, ali, niti će on mene ni ja njega posedovati. Radujem se njegovom dolasku, našim "pričama", i kockama šećera kojima ih usrećujemo. To će se desiti uskoro, ali je zasad tajna, mada će se možda tako i zvati - Tajna.

~ The friend of horses ~

2011-07-06T08:36:00.000-07:00

▪ INTERVIEW: THE FRIEND OF HORSES (Valentina Milenković, Newspaper "Vranjske", 2006.)

To introduce all this it is necessary to have complete study of horse anatomy and also horses recognition through history and mythology. Horses are frequent motive in the paintings of worldwide known artists. Let us just recall the works of Leonardo Da Vinci drawings, Pier Francesco, Albrecht Durer, Diego Velazquez, Peter Paul Rubens, Jan van Eyck, George Stubbs, Odilon Redon, but also the paintings of other symbolical meanings like the horses of Pablo Picasso, Lubarda, Miodrag Jelić, Mersad Berber...Suzana Stojanović also could not resist them. For "Vranjske" newspaper she speaks about her life and creating, lights and signs that destiny sends to us. She speaks of love - the greatest value of human life.
LIFE CELEBRATION
The impression is that you are a woman of unusual artistic adventure?
- Life is an adventure but art is not. Every new day is full of surprises, unexpected events, new meetings, experiences. The works of art are the products of our life adventures and dreams. Art is something that I take seriously and without art this world would be poor.
Horses are completely unique, painted with lot not only skillfulnes but also spiritual creativity. How do you cherish your inner world?
- I cherish my inner world and make it richer with creation. Everything that I carry deep in myself I try to transfer symbolically through my paintings to the observers, so that they could experience my personality in eye sparkle in the portraits of horses, in their moves. I have dedicated to each of my paintings one of my short stories, one of my unforgettable moments of my mood and life, my desires and dreams. One life is short for creating everything I want, for fulfilling myself in the measure I want. I live for art and I feel happy for every single move of my brush, every living eye I create. I rejoice to each my signature, because I know that I have gifted one more ode to this magnificent animal that has been following us from the very beginning, and we have been giving so little to them.
What is the difference between the horses from the very beginning of yours artistic work and these that appear nowadays?
- I still cannot tell you now why I have started to paint horses. When I was little I loved to decorate the walls with their beauty and their greatness. I loved to paint white horses, fairy tales horses, free ones. They have always associated me to long trips, to princes, princesses, to something that connects centuries and civilizations. After a long break I returned to them in some other way. The thing that I see today is something that I could not see before or I was not ready enough to let myself go into these great temptations. I feel that through this horse motive I can express everything that I want: to paint beauty of these magnificent and romantic Arabian horses, to write about their eye looks deep into the distant places, to compose silent melodies about the mute whisper of their thick manes. Of course, in order to introduce all these, it is necessary to study horse anatomy and to have knowledge of horses roles through history and mythology.
Do they appear after the photos that you take or in some other way?
- I meet this kind of questions almost every day. There are many curious painters and art lovers worldwide and they all want to know something more about my paintings. There is no great philosophy, paintings appear from talent, great work and love towards the creation. At the moment I am working on a book where the procedure of horse paintings and drawings will be in details explained.
You do not classify yourself into any artistic movement. Does that mean that art is something that you adjust to yourself?
- Art is freedom. In this moment I am in the phase of realism, hyperrealism or popular photorealism, but it does not mean that I will keep up to it. I like to experiment and never limit myself in the creation. Horse as a motive is limitless inspiration that can be shown in many ways. I paint in the way I feel, totally spontaneously. My every painting is a story for itself, one part of my life, an event, mood.
Is there anything that motivates you from the outer world?
- Everything depends on the way you regard the outer world and on the wish what do you want to see and you don't want to see. I search for something nice and good in everything that surrounds me. I am happy for every new day, for the fact that I exist, I am happy for every smile that I see in someone's face, for every warm word. Love moves me, faith that there is something supreme and untouchable in this world.
SUGAR LUMP
Why do you say that one needs courage for a good painting?
- The hardest part is to make the first step, when in front of you is just clean canvas and in yourself only a huge wish to create something out from nothing. The process of creation is very long - from irrational (when only emotions carry you and when you are watching in front of you something that you have created). Good painting shines, haunts, calls us to watch her again and study it as for the first time. Painting has that much strenght as much an artist gifts it with his or her own love, energy and fortitude towards the creation.
Dragan Malešević Tapi wrote in his Book of impressions during one of your exhibitions: "Glory to you, you are a great artist!" In what way these compliments motivate?
- Every compliment is a motivation if it is an honest one, especially if it comes from the people that mean a lot to me, no matter if they are "great" or not. I am happy for compliments that come from all the parts of the world, also from those "great" people. However, I am also happy for the compliments given by my friends, parents...giving me great support for everything that I create and work upon.
How do you, in fact, experience horses?
- I have been cooperating for a very long time with horses fans and lovers, but also with horse farms worldwide. Recently, I have received a very interesting letter from one lady from the United States that forced me into deep thinking. She has experienced my paintings in one very romantic and special way; she wrote that I was a whisperer who goes deeply into the horse soul till the end, but immediately after this she presumed that I lived and represented the horses in this way because I did not own them and since I was not in the contact with them. Now I know that I wll spend long time with them in my imagination and in the moment I miss them terribly, I will go to the nearest horse club to bring them a sugar lump.

▪ INTERVJU: DRUGARICA HATOVA (Valentina Milenković, "Vranjske" novine 2006.)

Da bi se sve ovo predstavilo potrebno je veoma iscrpno izučavanje anatomije konja i upoznavanje konja kroz istoriju i mitologiju. Konji su čest motiv na slikama najpoznatijih slikara. Setimo se Leonardovih crteža, Pjera Frančeska, Direra, Velaskeza, Rubensa, Van Ajka, Stabsa, Redona, ali i slikarskih radova drugačijeg simboličkog značenja poput Pikasovih konja, Lubardinih konja, konja Miodraga Jelića, Mersada Berbera...Nije im odolela ni Suzana Stojanović. Za "Vranjske" ona priča o svom životu i stvaranju, svetlosti i znacima koje nam sudbina upućuje kao i o najvećoj vrednosti čovekovog života - ljubavi.
SLAVLJENJE ŽIVOTA
Stiče se utisak da ste žena neobične umetničke avanture. Da li na život gledate kao na svojevrsnu avanturu?
- Život jeste avantura ali umetnost nije. Svaki novi dan pun je iznenađenja, neočekivanih događaja, novih susreta, iskustava. Umetnička dela su produkt naših životnih avantura i snova. Umetnost shvatam ozbiljno i bez umetnosti ovaj svet bio bi siromašan.
Konji su sasvim osobeni, naslikani sa puno, ne samo zanatske umešnosti već i sa mnogo duhovne kreativnosti. Kako negujete svoj unutrašnji svet?
- Svoj unutrašnji svet bogatim i negujem stvaranjem. Sve ono što duboko nosim u sebi pokušavam da na simboličan način prenesem kroz svoje slike posmatračima, da na svoj način dožive moju ličnost u sjaju oka, u portretima konja, u njihovim pokretima. Svakoj svojoj slici posvetila sam po jednu kratku priču, po jedan nezaboravan trenutak mog raspoloženja i života, mojih želja i snova. Malo je jedan život da stvorim ono što želim, da ispunim sebe onoliko koliko želim. Živim za umetnost i radujem se svakom potezu kičice, svakom oživljenom i proživljenom oku koje stvorim. Radujem se svakom svom potpisu jer znam da sam poklonila još jednu odu ovoj predivnoj životinji koja nas prati od samog postanka, a tako malo smo joj dali.
U čemu se razlikuju konji sa početka Vašeg umetničkog puta od ovih koji nastaju sada?
- Ni sada ne bih mogla da vam kažem zašto sam počela da slikam konje. Kada sam bila mala volela sam da ukrašavam zidove njihovom lepotom i veličinom, volela sam da slikam bele konje, bajkovite, slobodne. Oni su me uvek asocirali na duga putovanja, na prinčeve i princeze, na nešto što spaja vekove i civilizacije. Posle duže pauze ponovo sam im se vratila na jedan drugi način. Ono što sada vidim ranije nisam mogla ili nisam bila dovoljno spremna da se upustim u velike izazove. Osećam da kroz motiv konja mogu da prikažem sve što želim: da oslikam lepotu predivnih romantičnih Arapskih konja, da pišem o njihovim pogledima uprtim u daljine, da komponujem nečujne kompozicije o tihom šapatu gustih griva. Naravno, da bi se sve ovo predstavilo potrebno je veoma iscrpno izučavanje anatomije konja i upoznavanje konja kroz istoriju i mitologiju.
Da li oni nastaju po fotografijama koje snimate ili na neki drugi način?
- Sa takvim pitanjima srećem se skoro svakog dana. Mnogo je radoznalih slikara i ljubitelja umetnosti širom sveta koji žele da saznaju nešto više o mojim slikama. Nema tu neke velike filozofije, slike nastaju iz talenta, velikog rada i ljubavi prema slikanju. Trenutno radim na knjizi u kojoj će biti detaljno objašnjen postupak izrada slika i crteža konja.
Sebe ne svrstavate ni u jedan umetnički pravac. Da li to znači da umetnost prilagođavate sebi?
- Umetnost je sloboda. Trenutno sam u fazi realizma, hiperrealizma ili popularnog fotorealizma ali to ne znači da ću se zadržati na tome. Volim da eksperimentišem i nikada ne ograničavam sebe u stvaranju. Konj kao motiv je neiscrpna inspiracija koja se može prikazati na mnogo načina. Slikam onako kako osećam, sasvim spontano. Svaka moja slika priča je za sebe, jedan deo mog života, događaja, raspoloženja.
Postoji li nešto što Vas motiviše iz spoljnog sveta?
- Sve zavisi od toga kako posmatrate spoljni svet i šta želite da vidite a šta ne. Ja u svemu što me okružuje uvek tražim samo lepo i dobro. Radujem se svakom novom danu, radujem se što postojim, što stvaram, radujem se svakom osmehu koji vidim na nečijem licu, svakoj toploj reči. Pokreće me ljubav, vera da na ovom svetu postoji nešto uzvišeno i nedodirljivo.
KOCKA ŠEĆERA
Zašto kažete da je za dobru sliku potrebna hrabrost?
- Najteže je načiniti onaj prvi korak kada ispred sebe imate samo čisto platno i u sebi samo ogromnu želju da stvorite nešto iz ničega. Proces stvaranja je veoma dug - od iracionalnog (kada vas nose samo emocije i kada ste u carstvu boja) do realnog (kada ste svesni onoga što stvarate i kada pred sobom posmatrate nešto što ste stvorili). Dobra slika zrači, progoni, zove vas da je opet posmatrate i proučavate kao da je prvi put. Slika ima onoliko snage koliko joj slikar podari svojom ljubavlju prema stvaranju, svojom istrajnošću i energijom.
Dragan Malešević Tapi napisao je u knjizi utisaka na jednoj Vašoj izložbi: "Slava tebi, velika si umetnica!" Kako motivišu takvi komplimenti?
- Svaki kompliment je motivacija za mene ako je iskren, a naročito ako dolazi od ljudi koji meni puno znače, nezavisno od toga da li su to "veliki" ili "mali" ljudi. Radujem se komplimentima koji stižu iz svih krajeva sveta i od "velikih ljudi". Isto tako radujem se komplimentima koje mi upute moji prijatelji, roditelji, koji mi daju ogromnu podršku u svemu što radim i stvaram.
Kako Vi, u stvari, doživljavate konje?
- Veoma dugo sarađujem sa mnogim ljubiteljima i vlasnicima konja i ergela širom sveta. Nedavno sam dobila veoma interesantno pismo od jedne gospođe iz Amerike koje me nateralo na duboko razmišljanje. Ona je na veoma poseban i romantičan način doživela moje slike, napisala je da sam šaptač koji do kraja prodire u dušu konja, ali je odmah nakon toga pretpostavila da ja ovako doživljavam i predstavljam konje zato što ih ne posedujem i što nisam u stalnom kontaktu sa njima. Sada znam da ću se sa njima još dugo družiti u svojoj mašti, a onda kada mi baš mnogo nedostaju otići ću do najbližeg konjičkog kluba da im odnesem koju kocku šećera.

~ A painter Suzana Stojanović is attracted to secrets of the universe - obsession - galloping horses ~

2011-07-06T08:35:00.000-07:00

▪ INTERVIEW: A PAINTER SUZANA STOJANOVIĆ IS ATTRACTED TO SECRETS OF THE UNIVERSE - OBSESSION - GALLOPING HORSES (S. Mirčić, Newspaper "Revija D", Budva, Montenegro 2010.)

Suzana Stojanović’s pictorial obsession is galloping horses and the universe. She is a versatile artist and a composer and she also studies astronomy. Her paintings are parts of private collections in Serbia, America, Italy, Switzerland, Denmark, Croatia, Former Yugoslav Republic of Macedonia, Montenegro and Slovenia. She paints horses and makes an in-depth study of their anatomy, she writes short stories and prepares a book called "Following Old Masters" where she gives a detailed description of her long-term experiences and experiments, different techniques, making sketches and paintings.
Where does your artistic obsession with horses stem from?
- You do not choose your subject topic, it chooses you. With their beauty, intelligence and grace, horses chose me to paint them and enter their world. Horses are romantic, fluttering and fabulous. While I am painting them, I feel like I am diving towards the bottom of the sea, and when I finish every part of their slinky body, it is like I am collecting the precious stones from the bottom of the sea. The most difficult part is to paint the ambience because it has to be their background; to stress their every movement, to understand their message. The greatest mystery is to grab the unattainable, to grab something that cannot be gained just by using a good technique, but by something that we carry in ourselves and that can only be seen by us.
Will your first animated movie be dedicated to horses and their anatomy?
- A horse is a mystery for me, just like man is. We still do not know it enough, and we understand it even less. Maybe my future works will reveal more of what is hidden in that unusual creature. My first animated movie will be based on one of my mysterious stories.
Does your art change the world, the individuals or you?
- I work with the finest and loneliest part of the soul. I try to see with my heart. The meaning of my painting is to give people new worlds, to weave the light sky for them. And perhaps to warn them sometimes.
Who has your paintings in Montenegro? Have you had an exhibition in Budva?
- The names of people who have my paintings and drawings as part of their private collection will be a secret. Even secrets make life richer, don’t they? I have not had an exhibition in Budva, but I would love to.
What do you think about Montenegro artists and Montenegro mentality? Are they close to you?
- Montenegrins are people who help people in trouble. I still believe that "manhood and bravery" is important for them.
Are you afraid of being old?
- Instead of answering, here is one thought of Leonard Bloom: "A citizen is a pig that wants to die of old age". The only thing I don’t really marvel, and that I accept as inevitable is death. That is why I create, in order to overshadow the idea of it.
Do you believe in love that saves the world from collapsing?
- I do believe in love, but nowadays it seems to be an instant product. Everlasting love can only be found in Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty. Such love can move mountains, as well as save the world from the evil created by people. Love is also called God and this is why it can do everything.
What do you daydream about?
- Childhood is the most beautiful dream. Dreams and dreams come after that, dreams that take us between stars and rocks and lead us through life. I often dwell in my dreams but I never forget to come back from them.
The piano, literature, painting, astronomy. Where do you usually find yourself?
- There are so many skies I can land. I don’t want each of them to slip away from me, because that is the only way that makes me complete. Halldor Laxness said once that the one who searches only for the goal cannot see the beauty of what he does. Music, as well as a painting or even a good book tell stories that the whole world understands. That is why I love all these arts and I am going to work on them.

▪ INTERVJU: SLIKARKU SUZANU STOJANOVIĆ PRIVLAČE TAJNE KOSMOSA - OPSESIJA KONJI U GALOPU (S. Mirčić, "Revija D", Budva, Crna Gora 2010.)
Slikarska opsesija Suzane Stojanović su konji u galopu i kosmos. Svestrana je umetnica i kompozitor, a bavi se i proučavanjem astronomije. Njene slike nalaze se u privatnim kolekcijama u Srbiji, Americi, Italiji, Švajcarskoj, Danskoj, Makedoniji, Hrvatskoj, Crnoj Gori i Sloveniji. Slika konje i iscrpno izučava njihovu anatomiju, piše kratke priče i priprema knjigu "Tragovima starih majstora" u kojoj detaljno opisuje svoja dugogodišnja iskustva i eksperimente, razne tehnike, izradu crteža i slika.
Otkud vaša umetnička opsesija konjima?
- Tema slikanja se ne može izabrati, ona bira vas. Konji su svojom lepotom, inteligencijom i gracioznošću izabrali mene da ih slikam, da ulazim u njihov svet. Konji su romantični, bajkoviti, lepršavi. Dok ih slikam osećam se kao da ronim prema dnu mora, a kada završim svaki deo njihovog gracioznog tela kao da sakupljam dragocene kamenčiće sa dna u svoj dlan. Najteže je naslikati ambijent u kome se nalaze, jer on mora da ih prati, da istakne njihov pokret, da shvati njihovu poruku. Najveća misterija je uhvatiti neuhvatljivo, to nešto što se ne dobija samo dobrom tehnikom, već onim što nosimo u sebi i što samo mi vidimo.
Hoće li i vaš prvi animirani film biti posvećen konjima i njihovoj anatomiji?
- Konj je za mene zagonetka, baš kao i čovek. Još uvek ga nedovoljno poznajemo, a još manje razumemo. Možda će moji budući radovi malo više otkriti šta se krije u tom neobičnom biću. Moj prvi animirani film biće zasnovan na jednoj od mojih enigmatičnih priča.
Da li vaša umetnost menja svet, ljude, pojedince ili Vas?
- Ja radim sa najfinijim i najusamljenijim delom duše. Trudim se da vidim srcem. Smisao mog stvaranja je da ljudima darujem nove svetove, da im tkam svetlo nebo... Možda da ponekad opomenem.
Kod koga se nalaze vaše slike u Crnoj Gori? Da li ste izlagali u Budvi?
- Imena ljudi kod kojih se u privatnim kolekcijama nalaze moje slike i grafike neka budu tajna. Čak i tajne obogaćuju život, zar ne? U Budvi nisam izlagala, volela bih.
Šta mislite o crnogorskim umetnicima i crnogorskom mentalitetu? Da li vam je blizak?

- Crnogorci su ljudi koji pomažu u nevolji. Ja još uvek verujem da je za njih važno "čojstvo i junaštvo".

Da li se plašite starosti?

- Umesto odgovora evo jedne misli Leona Bluma: "Građanin je svinja koja hoće da umre od starosti". Jedino čemu se zaista ne čudim a što prihvatam kao neminovno je smrt. Upravo zato i stvaram da bih zasenila misao o njoj.

Verujete li u ljubav koja spašava svet od propasti?

- Verujem u ljubav ali mi ona danas dođe kao instant proizvod. Ljubav za ceo život može se jedino naći kod Pepeljuge ili Uspavane Lepotice. Takva može i brda da pomera, kao i da sačuva svet od svakog zla koje stvaraju ljudi. Ljubav se i Bog zove i zato ona može sve.

O čemu budni sanjate?

- Detinjstvo je najlepši san. Posle njega se ređaju snovi i snovi koji nas između zvezda i kamenja vode kroz život. Često sam u snovima ali nikada ne zaboravljam da se iz njih vratim.

Klavir, književnost, slikarstvo, astronomija. Gde ste u svemu tome Vi?

- Imam više neba na koja se mogu spustiti. Ne želim da mi se jedno od drugog otrgne, jer samo sam tako potpuna. Jednom je Haldor Laksnes rekao da ko u svemu traži samo cilj ne može da otkrije lepotu onoga što radi. Muzika, kao i umetnička slika ili dobra knjiga pričaju priče koje razume ceo svet. Zato volim sve ove umetnosti i radiću na tim poljima.

~ Challenge ~

2011-01-04T15:22:00.002-08:00

Challenge 2010.
Original oil on canvas painting 50x40 cm
Series Temptations

~ Mirror ~

2011-01-04T15:22:00.001-08:00

Mirror 2010.
Original oil on canvas painting 27x30 cm
Series The Magical World of Horses

~ Short Stories ~

2010-12-14T09:00:00.000-08:00

» A strange bride (2008.)

» Freedom is power (2008.)

» Sadness in the eyes (2008.)

» When gone good fairies are forever lost (2007.)

» Friendship or something else (2007.)

» Life in clouds (2007.)

» In pursuit of happiness (2007.)

» Love or a game (2007.)

» We will always be together when the guitar is playing (2007.)

» The Prince and The Beggar (2007.)

» People from the shadow (2007.)

» On the wings of the whirlwind (2007.)

» The dog that liked zebras (2007.)

» Beyond silence (2007.)

» By imagination to the truth (2007.)

» Love (2006.)

» Pride without cover (2006.)

» Winner inside ourselves (2006.)

» My way (2006.)

» Memories (2006.)

» Friends forever (2006.)

» You should go to the end of the world and find dew in the grass (1998.)

۞

▪ Life writes strange stories and we, the artists - painters, poets, writers and musicians collect them while walking along its strange paths. Why do we exist? Why do we create? What's our mission? We are here to turn all that is evil into good, ugly into beautiful, to help people forget about their worries and sorrows even for a second and yield to our magic. Sometimes one word is all that it takes to change someone's entire life, only one painting to colour their world and find their way, only one poem to take back their steps and start over. Each of us has many ups and downs, many joys and sorrows, but what we must never lose is hope. They say that hope dies last, but as long as we believe nothing is lost. 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. I write the way I feel, without pausing. There is no introduction or conclusion in my stories; I leave that up to you. And I'll be thrilled if I manage to help someone find their happiness, start believing in love, in them, in people. I'm going to finish with the words of Oskar Schindler: "The one who saves one life has saved the entire world."
Author Suzana Stojanović

~ Prayer ~

2010-05-14T11:54:00.000-07:00

Prayer 2009.

Original oil on canvas painting 33x25 cm
Series Temptations

~ Friendship or something else ~

2010-05-14T11:52:00.000-07:00

Leo Tolstoy, one of the greatest writers and greatest minds ever gave the greatest ode to friendship in just one sentence: "If all the streams in the world cheered, if all the seas spoke and all the mountains sang, they could still not weave the ode to friendship, the only creation in the universe that is not pure necessity of nature but a hard alloy of spirit." In that endless universe we are trying to overcome the awful and vast distance from man to man. That distance is so great that we can approach each other only by trying really hard, and even our one weakness and action can drift us apart forever. The distance and long absence affect friendship, even though we are unwilling to admit that to ourselves and others. Because people that we don’t see, even if they are our beloved friends, in time become abstract concepts, and our participation in their lives becomes more and more rational. Live and deep affection and emotion can be given only to those who are in front of our eyes. On the other hand, there is a strange kind of friends that do not leave our homes. They are always present. At first, they talk, and when they tell all their stories, they become quiet and doze more and more. They are called "house friends" and that term is appropriate because they are the friends of the house rather than the master of the house. They are more similar to cats than dogs. They spoil us, they forgive us, they brainwash us and they throw to airwaves precious moments of our short lives for good. And then we realize that we need a few honest friends and few good enemies in order to succeed. A false friend, he is the worst and the most dangerous man in our environment. He is always there when we are right. He grieves over our misery, but he does not rejoice in our happiness. The wound that he makes never heals. Wise Seneca said that happiness creates a friend and that misery tests him. How do we recognize a true friend? It is enough to remember Carl Heinrich Marx and the fact that man recognizes his true friend after defeat. Do we have to wait to be defeated? Are we going to afford ourselves the luxury that our real friends disappear forever in the shadow of our self-love? We must never forget that we get to know our friend the moment we lose him. They say that only the poor know the real values of friendship. There is truth in that. It is very simple to make someone happy. People need no more than true interest. The best thing we can do when our friend suffers is to share the suffering with him, to be with him even when we have nothing more to offer but our presence; to find the solution and bring him back to the right path when he strays; to rejoice with him when he rejoices, to fool around when he fools around. Life is short, and no matter how serious it requires us to be, we always need friends to fool around with them, to remember together. When everything passes, we have only memories left. If there are no memories, we can never say: "It was worth living." The end of our life is like the end of a costume ball- participants, being too tired of their false faces, remove their masks and make-up with such a relief. Everyone then sees who those people were, those that they shared their lives with. Some of them never took off their beautiful masks; they skilfully hid behind them from themselves and others. Those without masks, not so pretty, passed by us quietly like a shadow and disappeared forever. We don’t remember their faces but we remember their actions and deeds, after so many years their words echo in our minds. The weirdest thing is that man understands and realizes himself, his own purpose of existing at the end of his life...

Friendship or something else, author Suzana Stojanović, 08.22.2007.

Lav Tolstoj, jedan od najvećih pisaca i najvećih umova svih vremena, u samo jednoj rečenici poklonio je najlepšu odu prijateljstvu: "Da svi potoci na zemlji zaklikću, sva mora progovore i sve planine zapevaju opet ne bi mogli satkati himnu prijateljstvu, jedinoj tvorevini u kosmosu koja nije puka nužnost prirode, nego čvrsta legura duha". U tom beskrajnom kosmosu pokušavamo da savladamo strašnu i nepreglednu razdaljinu od čoveka do čoveka. Ta razdaljina je tako velika da tek sa velikim naporom možemo da priđemo jedni drugima, a samo jedna naša slabost i postupak mogu da nas udalje zauvek. Udaljenost i dugo odsustvo narušavaju prijateljstvo, ma koliko to nerado priznajemo sebi i drugima. Jer ljudi koje ne vidimo, pa bili oni i naši najvoljeniji prijatelji, postaju vremenom apstraktni pojmovi, čime naše učešće u njihovim životima postaje sve više i više čisto racionalno. Živa i duboka osećanja i emocije možemo da poklonimo samo onima koje imamo pred očima. Nasuprot njima postoji i jedna čudna vrsta prijatelja koji ne izlaze iz naših domova. Stalno su tu. U početku pričaju a onda kada ispričaju sve svoje priče sve više ćute i dremaju. Zovu se "kućni prijatelji" i s pravom se tako nazivaju jer su više prijatelji kuće nego gospodara kuće. Sličniji su mačkama nego psima. Oni nas kvare, gledaju nam kroz prste i opraštaju, peru naše mozgove, dragocene trenutke našeg kratkog života zauvek bacaju u etar. Onda shvatimo da nam je za uspeh u životu potrebno nekoliko iskrenih prijatelja i nekoliko dobrih neprijatelja. Lažni prijatelj, to je najgori i najopasniji čovek u našoj okolini. On je uvek pored nas kada smo u pravu. Uvek se sažali nad našom nesrećom ali se ne raduje našoj sreći. Rana koju nam zada nikada ne zaceli. Mudri Seneka rekao je da sreća stvara prijatelja a nesreća proverava. Kako prepoznati iskrenog prijatelja? Dovoljno je da se setimo Karla Marksa i toga da čovek tek posle poraza prepozna svoje prave prijatelje. Da li moramo da čekamo poraze? Da li ćemo sebi priuštiti taj luksuz da pravi prijatelji zauvek nestanu u senci našeg samoljublja? Nikada ne smemo da zaboravimo da prijatelja upoznamo tek kada ga izgubimo. Kažu da samo siromašni poznaju pravu vrednost prijateljstva. Ima neke istine u tome. Veoma je jednostavno obradovati drugoga. Ljudima ne treba ništa više sem malo istinske zaineresovanosti. Najlepša stvar koju možemo da učinimo kada nam prijatelj pati jeste da podelimo patnju sa njim, da budemo sa njim čak i kada nemamo da mu ponudimo ništa drugo osim našeg prisustva; kada greši da pronađemo rešenje i vratimo ga na pravi put; kada se raduje da se radujemo sa njim; kada se glupira da se glupiramo sa njim. Život je kratak i bez obzira koliko ozbiljnosti zahtevao od nas, uvek su nam potrebni prijatelji sa kojima se mozemo glupirati, sa kojima se možemo sećati. Posle svega uvek nam ostanu samo sećanja. Ako njih nema nikada nećemo moći da kažemo: "Vredelo je živeti". Pri kraju života slično je kao na kraju maskenbala: učesnici, previše umorni od svog lažnog lica sa olakšanjem skidaju maske i šminku. Svako od nas tek tada vidi ko su stvarno bili oni ljudi sa kojima je delio svoj mali život. Neki od njih nikada nisu skidali svoju lepu masku, krili su se vešto ispod nje i od sebe i od drugih. Neki bez maske, ne tako lepi, poput senke tiho su prošli pored nas i zauvek nestali. Ne sećamo se njihovog lika ali se sećamo njihovih postupaka i dela, posle mnogo godina njihove reči poput eha odzvanjaju u nama. Najčudnije jeste da čovek i sebe samog, svoj sopstveni cilj i svrhu svog postojanja, saznaje i shvata tek pri kraju života...
Prijateljstvo ili nešto sasvim drugo, autor Suzana Stojanović, 22.08.2007.

~ Presentiment ~

2010-05-14T11:50:00.000-07:00

Presentiment 2008.
Original oil on canvas painting 30x26 cm
Series Temptations

~ Keeyana ~

2010-04-13T05:44:00.000-07:00

Keeyana 2008.
Original pencil drawing 30x24 cm

Series The Magical World of Horses

~ Temptations ~

2010-04-12T07:28:00.003-07:00

Promise 2011.
Original oil on canvas painting 42x40 cm
Series Temptations

» Work in progress

Challenge 2010.
Original oil on canvas painting 50x40 cm
Series Temptations

Prayer 2009.
Original oil on canvas painting 33x25 cm
Series Temptations

» Detail

Presentiment 2008.

Original oil on canvas painting 30x26 cm
Series Temptations

» Detail

Language of roses 2003.
Original oil on canvas painting 50x40 cm
Series Temptations

▪ Although thought of as standard art, portraits propose a rather unique challenge to the artist. For if they merely duplicate a persona what is the ultimate purpose, but needless vanity and pride. And if they instead characterize the sitter, then what subjective alchemy is utilized by the painter to be remain truthful in what she/he does. But if they accurately represent the inner being, the true self, well then you have a veritable masterpiece by anyone's standards.

~ Oil on Canvas Paintings ~

2010-04-12T07:28:00.001-07:00

Promise 2011.
Original oil on canvas painting 42x40 cm
Series Temptations

» Work in progress

The King 2011.
Original oil on canvas painting 59x42 cm
Series The Magical World of Horses

» Work in progress » Detail

Challenge 2010.
Original oil on canvas painting 50x40 cm
Series Temptations

Mirror 2010.
Original oil on canvas painting 27x30 cm
Series The Magical World of Horses

» Detail

Prayer 2009.
Original oil on canvas painting 33x25 cm
Series Temptations

» Detail

Friendship 2009.
Original oil on canvas painting 42x30 cm
Series The Magical World of Horses

» Detail

Presentiment 2008.
Original oil on canvas painting 30x26 cm
Series Temptations

» Detail

Silence 2007.
Original oil on canvas painting 27x39 cm
Series The Magical World of Horses

Heaven riders 2006.
Original oil on canvas painting 35x55 cm
Series The Magical World of Horses

» Detail

Winner 2005.
Original oil on canvas painting 40x56 cm
Series The Magical World of Horses
» Detail

Dream 2003.
Original oil on canvas painting 50x40 cm
Series The Magical World of Horses

Princess 2003.

Original oil on canvas painting 50x40 cm
Series The Magical World of Horses
» Detail

Language of roses 2003.
Original oil on canvas painting 50x40 cm
Series Temptations

Awakening 2002.

Original oil on canvas painting 24x30 cm
Series The Magical World of Horses

Whirlwind 2002.

Original oil on canvas painting 24x30 cm
Series The Magical World of Horses

Blue blood 2002.

Original oil on canvas painting 24x30 cm
Series The Magical World of Horses

۞

▪ Sometimes you pass on something and later you realize you should have gotten it... It is better to take chances...

~ Pencil & Pastel Drawings ~

2010-04-12T07:27:00.003-07:00

Connection 2008.
Original pencil drawing 30x24 cm
Series The Magical World of Horses

My world 2008.
Original pencil drawing 33x41 cm
Series The Magical World of Horses

Keeyana 2008.
Original pencil drawing 30x24 cm
Series The Magical World of Horses

Fairies 2007.

Original pencil drawing 29x32 cm
Series The Magical World of Horses

The call 2007.

Original pencil drawing 50x35 cm
Series The Magical World of Horses

In clouds 2007.

Original pencil drawing 34x36 cm
Series The Magical World of Horses

Flame 2006.
Original pastel drawing 35x34 cm
Series The Magical World of Horses

Friends 2006.
Original pencil drawing 41x20 cm
Series The Magical World of Horses

My way 2006.

Original pencil drawing 40x29 cm
Series The Magical World of Horses

۞

▪ Horses charmed Leonardo Da Vinci and he presented them in many drawings. He made many drawings discovering , beside his deep knowledge about horses anatomy, also one extraordinary power of getting into that proud nature of that animal, where antique human saw something which is half-deity. Indeed, horses carried gods and heroes.

~ Arabian Horse Art ~

2010-04-12T07:27:00.001-07:00

My world 2008.
Original pencil drawing 33x41 cm
Series The Magical World of Horses

Silence 2007.
Original oil on canvas painting 27x39 cm
Series The Magical World of Horses

In clouds 2007.
Original pencil drawing 34x36 cm
Series The Magical World of Horses

Heaven riders 2006.
Original oil on canvas painting 35x55 cm
Series The Magical World of Horses

» Detail

Flame 2006.

Original pastel drawing 35x34 cm
Series The Magical World of Horses

My way 2006.
Original pencil drawing 40x29 cm
Series The Magical World of Horses

Dream 2003.
Original oil on canvas painting 50x40 cm
Series The Magical World of Horses

Princess 2003.
Original oil on canvas painting 50x40 cm
Series The Magical World of Horses

» Detail

Whirlwind 2002.
Original oil on canvas painting 24x30 cm
Series The Magical World of Horses

۞

▪ Romantic Arabian horse is considered the most beautiful of all the horses. With his unique anatomy, beauty and attractiveness, he leaves unforgettable impression. Arabian horse, beside his exotic appearance, fascinates with his incredible speed that has been developing through the history while running in the desert sand. Arabian horse races have been taking place for at least 2000 years B.C. on the Arabian Peninsula. Art and oral tradition of Bedouins who have been related to the "desert horse" for centuries testify of this fact. Extremely beautiful and gentle, and spirited at the same time, persistent and tough, Arabian horse remained noticed in the history of art as an inexhaustible source of inspiration of many artists. His intelligence and spirited nature reflects in his bright, big and expressive eyes...

~ You should go to the end of the world and find dew in the grass ~

2009-10-18T15:46:00.001-07:00

The young people who want to become educators have a dream about creating a new and a better person through their work, thus making the world better, fixing everything that is bad in that world, moulding people's destiny themselves. Their aim is to create better people for the present and the future, which means to teach them the wisdom of a happy lifetime. The teacher remains ingrained in our memories for all our lives, not only by his name but also by his character, words and thoughts. We remember his eyes, face, build and voice. The light in our teacher's eyes led us into a strange world, into the magical gardens of dreams, into meadows, games of light, movements of plants, people and life, out of which we, still being kids, thought we would never come back. They led us into a life that was a dream and taught us how to make it real. A teacher spins every truth with a colourful yarn of his words, because he believes that everything takes the shape which our soul and heart give to it. The teacher is our third parent. He loved us all and was committed to everyone and that is why the photograph of him together with the friends from the class takes the honorable place in the album, right beside the mom and dad's, reminding us of past days. With his greatness in the eyes of a pupil, the teacher very often becomes a teacher to mother and father, doesn't he? They respect the parent-teacher because he corrects the mistakes they have made in the upbringing, and makes us believe that an effort, skill and caution are the magical formulas for success. His knowledge is as endless as the sea: he is an actor, a painter, a singer and a musician. Every one of us likes having a brave teacher who will be ready to stand at the beginning of our knowledge in the uncertain path of life, to inflame the fire in our young hearts. I wonder who would stand at the very beginning of our secret path into life and the world if he wasn't there. Every teacher knows that life gives us back as much as we give to it. He always radiates the internal power which has influence upon us. He has taught us that the best way is the one we do not see at once but know there is one, he taught us to read its sign in our hearts. Every real life is beautiful and hard. Life is a challenge and a game to play. Let us remember Branko Miljković and his words: "You should go to the end of the world and find dew in the grass..."
You should go to the end of the world and find dew in the grass, author Suzana Stojanović, 1998.

Mladi ljudi koji žele da postanu vaspitači sanjaju kako će u svom radu stvarati novog i boljeg čoveka, kako će samim tim menjati svet na bolje, ispravljati sve ono što je loše u tom svetu, biti krojači ljudskih sudbina. Cilj im je da stalno grade bolje ljude za sadašnjost i budućnost, a to znači da ih uče mudrosti srećnog življenja. Učitelj se svima nama, za čitav život ureže u sećanje, ne samo po imenu, već i po ćudi, po svojim rečima i mislima. Pamtimo njegove oči, lice, stas, glas. Učiteljeve oči su nas svojom svetlošću uvodile u nekakav čudan svet, u začarane bašte snova, u livade, igre svetlosti, pokrete biljaka, ljudi i života, iz kojih smo kao deca mislili da se nikada nećemo vratiti. Vodile su nas u život koji je san i učile nas kako da ga ostvarujemo. Svaku istinu učitelj opreda šarenom pređom svojih reči, jer veruje da sve ima onakav oblik kakav mu daje naša duša i srce. Učitelj je naš treći roditelj. Voleo nas je sve i služio svima i zato je njegova fotografija s drugovima iz razreda na počasnom mestu u albumu odmah uz tatinu i maminu i podseća nas na minule dane. Svojom veličinom u očima đaka učitelj vrlo često postane učitelj i mami i tati zar ne? Oni poštuju roditelja učitelja jer ono što su u vaspitanju pogrešili on ispravi i uveri nas da su trud, veština i opreznost čarobne formule uspeha. Znanje mu je beskrajno kao more, on je glumac, slikar, pevač i svirač. Svako od nas voli hrabrog učitelja koji će biti spreman da stoji na početku svih naših saznanja na neizvesnoj stazi života, da raspaljuje plamičke u našim mladim srcima. Da njega nema, pitam se, ko li bi stajao na samom početku našeg tajnovitog puta u život i svet? Svaki učitelj zna da život vraća onoliko koliko mu damo. On uvek zrači nekom unutrašnjom snagom koja deluje na nas. Naučio nas je da je najbolji put onaj koji ne vidimo odmah ali znamo da postoji, naučio nas je da u srcu čitamo njegov trag. Svaki pravi život je lep i težak. Život je izazov i igra koju treba igrati...Setimo se Branka Miljkovića i njegovih reči: "Treba ići na kraj sveta i naći rosu u travi..."
Treba ići na kraj sveta i naći rosu u travi, autor Suzana Stojanović, 1998.

~ Connection ~

2009-10-18T15:45:00.000-07:00

Connection 2008.

Original pencil drawing 30x24 cm

Series The Magical World of Horses

~ Beyond silence ~

2009-10-18T15:44:00.000-07:00

Since the beginning of the world there has been an enigma, except that man had always been looking for it but had never found it. It is present everywhere but it's hard to reach its chambers - it's guarded by deep waters, dense forests and profound thoughts. Everything important began with it: architecture, philosophy, sculpture...It is, at the same time, the strongest roar, and the only thing which stops when its name is spoken. Its name is Silence. All the depths in nature are silent, as are all the profound feelings in man: love, faith, courage, persistence. Even the greatest pain is not great enough if it is revealed on our faces or if it is heard. For centuries, man has found silence in faith and prayers, philosophers in philosophy, artists in art. The great orators were turned towards the sea during their speech, looking for inspiration in the silence of that place. How can we find, in life and speech, a secret thread which will lead us along the entangled paths of our passion to silence? Do we have enough strength to resist our greatest enemies - thrills and passion? Or, are we afraid of silence and its undiscovered paths, its sparkle that has often lit our soul, its ominous stillness which has brought us tough days? And just when we think that we have found it, we are uneasy and curious again, we wonder what's beyond it. Maybe that is the end, torn down sacred monuments which we have worshipped, demolished cities which we have been building for centuries. We will always long for silence as we do for light and air, even though we, ourselves, destroy it most. Our uncontrollable passion leads us to the unknown, uncertainty, and into redemption. By making the poison, we always poison ourselves first. Out of our careless words, enemies and unease are born. It's already been said that honesty doesn't mean always telling what's on your mind. It actually means that everything you don't think should be left unspoken. You should rush slowly into silence. And quietly...If we say its name it will stop.
Beyond silence, author Suzana Stojanović, 02.12.2007.

Od postanka sveta postoji jedna enigma, jedino sto je čovek večito tražio a nikada nije našao. Ima je svuda ali je teško dopreti do njenih odaja - čuvaju je duboke vode, duboke šume, duboke misli. Sve veliko začelo se u njenim nedrima: arhitektura, filozofija, skulptura...Ona je najsnažniji krik i jedino ona prestaje kada izgovorimo njeno ime. Zove se Tišina. Sve su dubine u prirodi tihe, a isto tako tihe su i sve duboke stvari u čoveku: ljubav, vera, hrabrost, istrajnost. Čak i veliki bol nije dovoljno veliki ako se vidi na našim licima i ako se čuje. Vekovima su ljudi nalazili svoju tišinu u veri i molitvi, filozofi u filozofiji, umetnici u stvaranju. Slavni govornici bili su za vreme govora okrenuti moru i u tišini prostora nalazili su inspiraciju za svoja razmišljanja. Kako u životu i rečima pronaći neki tajanstveni konac koji će nas odvesti po zamršenim putevima naših strasti do tišine? Da li imamo dovoljno snage da se suprotstavimo našim najvećim neprijateljima - uzbuđenjima i strastima? Ili se možda plašimo tišine i njenih nepoznatih prostora, njenih gromova koji su često palili našu dušu, njenog zloslutnog muka koji je donosio teške dane? I onda kada na trenutak pomislimo da smo je pronašli ponovo smo nespokojni i radoznali, pitamo se šta je iza nje. Možda je to kraj, porušeni spomenici kojima smo se vekovima klanjali, porušeni gradovi koje smo vekovima gradili? Uvek ćemo čeznuti za tišinom isto onoliko koliko čeznemo za svetlošcu i vazduhom, a ipak sami najviše radimo protiv nje. Naše neobuzdane strasti vode nas u mračno sutra, u nesigurnost, u pokajanja. Kuvajući otrov uvek ćemo otrovati najpre sami sebe. Iz naših nepromišljenih reči rađaju se neprijatelji i nespokojstvo. Odavno je rečeno da iskrenost ne znači reći sve što čovek misli, nego ne reći nikad ono što ne misli. Treba žuriti polako na putu do tišine. I tiho, tiše...ako izgovorimo njeno ime prestaće.
Iza tišine, autor Suzana Stojanović, 12.02.2007.

~ When gone good fairies are forever lost ~

2009-10-18T15:43:00.000-07:00

Talking creates an illusion of life and duration - it makes one forget about transitoriness and in that way people seem to postpone death. Seneca said that life was short, art long-lasting, an opportunity quick, an attempt dangerous and that a decision was difficult. Man, finding himself trapped in that chaos, often wishes to run away into some other world, a world made of stories, fairy tales and myths about beautiful old times. Unable to confront the cruel reality, he starts believing in miracles. He searches his good fairies, looks for them in many awkward places, not knowing that the Golden Age is long gone. In ancient times, people were good, there was no sadness because fairies were helping them. Happiness came from the Gods of light and therefore from fairies because they were the goddesses of light. There was one heart unifying all the people's hearts, there was one will, one custom, one law - until they let the fairies down. Terrified and numb, they helplessly watched the saddest of all ruins in the world, the ruin of a man. The song ceased, guns started shooting and people went to war. According to the legends the unhappy fairies started wandering through the mountains and singing songs with the wind. They were trying to protect their mountain world from a man they trusted no more. If men went to pick herbs, they would throw them into the abyss from a cliff because they didn't want to share their power over herbs with others. Life of each fairy was connected with a certain tree, plant, mountain, spring, river or a lake. There wasn't a place they couldn't live in or build their fairy castles on: they lived in lower clouds and protected Perun, the god, inside thick treetops and in the sea, they fed on roe milk and rode deer. There were as many fairies as there were springs in the mountains. While they were residing there, the springs were inexhaustible and curable. They often chose caves for their home, and there only the chosen ones could see that wonderful another world and the beauty of their long undone hair. Before many visitors that world turned into a maze of rocks with no way out. Fairies loved music and hated noise. Because of the noise that civilization had brought into their castles they went to some quieter places. People drove them away with their constant comings and the destruction of their caves. The ones that lived in the springs, lakes and breams turned into swans, snakes and birds in order to hide from people. And then tireless hunters appeared from somewhere. What remained is only a story that some people still converse with good fairies. Some look for them in rare flowers, in the first dew, in marvelous circles of mushrooms that, according to the legend, grew in places where fairies once had danced. It is still believed that they could come back some day; maybe then when people finally take their garbage with them. What about the ruined caves, plants, springs, lakes and rivers? Will they come back, too?
When gone good fairies are forever lost, author Suzana Stojanović, 11.20.2007.

Pričanjem se stvara iluzija života i trajanja - zaboravlja se na prolaznost i time kao da se odlaže smrt. Seneka je rekao da je život kratak, umetnost duga, prilika brza, pokušaj opasan, a odluka teška. Čovek, zatečen u celoj toj zbrci, često poželi da pobegne u neki drugi svet, svet satkan od priča, bajki i mitova o starim lepim vremenima. Nemoćan da se suprotstavi okrutnoj stvarnosti, on počinje da veruje u čuda. Traga za svojim dobrim vilama, traži ih na mnogim čudnim mestima, ne znajući da je Zlatno doba odavno prestalo. U davnim vremenima ljudi su bili dobri, tuge nije bilo jer su im vile pomagale. Sreća je dolazila od svetlih bogova, pa tako i od vila, jer su bile boginje svetla. Jedno je bilo srce svih ljudi, jedna volja, jedan običaj, jedan zakon - dok nisu izneverili vile. Nemoćno su, užasnute i zanemele, posmatrale najžalosniju od svih ruševina na svetu, ruševinu čoveka. Pesma je utihnula, puške su zapucale, narodi zaratili. Legende pripovedaju da su nesrećne vile počele da lutaju planinama i da pevaju pesme sa vetrovima. Pokušavale su da sačuvaju svoj planinski svet od čoveka kome više nisu verovale. Kada bi ljudi pošli brati lekovite trave, one bi ih bacale s litica u ponor, jer svoju moć nad lekovitim travama nisu želele da podele sa njima. Život svake od njih bio je vezan za određeno drvo, biljku, planinu, izvor, reku, jezero. Nije bilo mesta gde nisu mogle živeti i načiniti svoje vilinske dvorce: živele su u niskim oblacima i čuvale boga Peruna, po gustim krošnjama drveća i morima, hranile se mlekom košuta i jahale na jelenima. Koliko je bilo izvora u planini, toliko je bilo i vila. Dok su boravile na njima izvori su bili nepresušni i lekoviti. Za svoje domove često su odabirale pećine, u kojima su prekrasan drugi svet i lepotu njihovih dugih raspletenih kosa mogli videti samo odabrani. Pred većinom posetitelja taj svet pretvarao se u lavirint stena iz koga nema izlaza. Vile su volele muziku, a mrzele buku. Zbog buke koju je u njihove dvorce donela civilizacija otišle su u neke tiše krajeve. Oterali su ih ljudi svojim neprestanim dolascima i uništavanjem njihovih pećina. One koje su živele po izvorima, jezerima i potocima skrivajuci se pred ljudima pretvarale su se u labudove, zmije, ptice. A onda su se odnekud stvorili neumorni lovci. Ostala je samo priča da neki ljudi još uvek razgovaraju sa dobrim vilama. Neki ih traže u retkim cvetovima, u prvoj rosi, u čudesnim krugovima gljiva koji su po predanju izrasli na mestima gde su vile nekada plesale. I danas postoji verovanje da bi se jednom ipak mogle vratiti; možda onda kada ljudi konačno sa sobom odnesu svo svoje smeće. A uništene pećine, biljke, izvori, jezera, reke? Hoće li se oni vratiti?
Dobre vile odlaze samo jednom, autor Suzana Stojanović, 20.11.2007.

~ The call ~

2009-10-18T15:41:00.001-07:00

The call 2007.

Original pencil drawing 50x35 cm

Series The Magical World of Horses

~ Life in clouds ~

2009-10-18T15:40:00.001-07:00

There's a legend of a bird that sings more beautifully than any other living being on Earth only once in its lifetime. As soon as it leaves its nest it starts looking for a thorn tree and doesn't rest until it finds it. It crawls under its wild and intertwined branches and, while singing, it stabs its body at the longest and the sharpest thorn. While dying, its pain grows into a beautiful song, putting a nightingale song in shade. The price for that beautiful song is life because the best things in life can be achieved only at the price of a great pain...at least, according to the legend. We dream of our towers since childhood but the fulfillment of everything we carry inside us and the actual battles have to be fought there where destiny throws us, at some nameless space without glow and beauty, without witnesses and a judge. Life never gives us what it promises; it's always more or less than that. We are dazzled by its vastness which we use for writing our stories without an eraser. On its stage we play badly assigned roles with no lines, without being able to choose whether to act in a tragedy or a comedy, whether to laugh or cry. It is said that wisdom lies in accepting life as it is and only sometimes dreaming of how it could be. But how to resist blue dreams and comfortable white clouds which are constantly calling us, raising our looks up to the sky? We're lost somewhere between the ground and the blue sky, not knowing if we're going up or down, until the crucial moments - those which make us choose - startle us. Some souls stay trapped forever within that invisible boundary and sail through life as straws float down the river - they don't move, they are carried; they don't know what they want and even less what they are able to do. The ones with a restless spirit are constantly flying up and down; while they are on the ground they watch the clouds and while they are in clouds they search for runways to land. They always indefatigably go in circles and they're never bored. They meet various people in their lifetime: the ones in clouds, the ones on the ground and the trapped ones. There are those that are afraid of flying. They spend their entire life firmly bound to the ground. Out of great fear they never watch the clouds; they don't even dream of them. They usually understand only the things they themselves have experienced; they can't imagine something completely new and different. Some people express their strongest desires in just one word; the sparkle in their eyes leaves no-one indifferent. We feel that something important is happening. We watch them packing their suitcases and setting off in a one-way direction - towards the clouds. They are in search of themselves and their dreams somewhere high in the endlessness of the blue sky, being constantly turned towards the stars, without knowing that many of them ceased to exist a long time ago, that everything is only a game of light and time...And all of us, more or less, somewhere deep inside us, want the life in clouds without being aware that our entire happiness lies hidden in the events happening while climbing up towards the clouds. Each of us has experienced a terrible destiny and bitter inner struggles until we've realized the beauty of simplicity. The strangest thing of all is that only in the end do we get to know simple things.
Life in clouds, author Suzana Stojanović, 05.27.2007.

Postoji legenda o ptici koja peva samo jednom u životu, lepše od bilo kog živog bića na zemlji. Čim napusti gnezdo ona traži bodljikavo drvo i ne smiri se dok ga ne nađe. Uvuče se među njegove divlje i isprepletene grane i, pevajući, nabode svoje telo na najduži i najoštriji trn. Dok umire, njen bol prerasta u pesmu koja lepotom premašuje pesmu slavuja. Cena te predivne pesme je život, jer ono najbolje što postoji u životu može da se dobije samo po cenu velikog bola...tako bar kaže legenda. Od detinjstva maštamo o svojim kulama ali ostvarenje svega što nosimo u sebi i stvarne bitke moramo da bijemo tamo gde nas sudbina baci, na nekom bezimenom prostoru bez sjaja i lepote, bez svedoka i sudije. Život nam nikada ne pruža ono što obećava, nego uvek više ili manje od toga. Opiju nas njegova ogromna prostranstva po kojima pišemo svoje priče bez gumice za brisanje. Na njegovoj pozornici igramo loše dodeljene uloge bez teksta i ne možemo da biramo da li ćemo glumiti u tragediji ili komediji, da li ćemo se smejati ili plakati. Kažu da se mudrost sastoji u tome da život prihvatiš onakvim kakav on jeste i da samo ponekad sanjaš kakav bi mogao da bude. Ali kako odoleti plavim snovima i udobnim belim oblacima koji nas uporno zovu i dižu naše poglede visoko do neba? Stojimo izgubljeni negde između tla i plavetnila, ne znajući da li ćemo gore ili dole, dok nas ne trgnu trenuci odluke kada moramo da biramo. Neke duše zauvek ostanu zarobljene na toj nevidljivoj granici i plove kroz život kao slamčice rekom - ne kreću se, njih nose; ne znaju šta žele a još manje šta mogu. Oni nemirnog duha stalno lete gore-dole; dok su na zemlji posmatraju oblake, a dok su u oblacima traže piste za sletanje. Stalno neumorno kruže i nikada im nije dosadno. Na svom životnom putu sreću razne ljude: i one u oblacima, i one sa zemlje, i one zarobljene. Postoje i oni koji se plaše da lete. Oni ceo svoj život provedu čvrsto prikovani za tlo. Od silnog straha nikada ne posmatraju oblake, čak i ne sanjaju o njima. Obično shvataju samo ono što su sami iskusili, nešto potpuno novo i različito ne mogu da zamisle. Neki ljudi u jednu reč unesu celo svoje biće, sjaj u njihovim očima nikoga ne ostavlja ravnodušnim. Osećamo da se nešto važno dešava. Posmatramo ih kako pakuju svoje kofere i odlaze na put u jednom pravcu - ka oblacima. Traže sebe i svoje snove negde visoko u beskraju plavetnila stalno okrenuti ka zvezdama, ne znajući da mnoge od njih odavno ne postoje, da je sve samo igra svetlosti i vremena...I svi mi, manje ili više, negde duboko u sebi želimo život u oblacima, a nismo ni svesni da je sva naša sreća satkana u događajima dok se penjemo ka njima. Svako od nas doživeo je šamare sudbine i unutrašnje gorke borbe dok nije shvatio lepotu jednostavnosti. Najčudnije od svega je što jednostavne stvari upoznajemo tek na kraju.

Život u oblacima, autor Suzana Stojanović, 27.05.2007.

~ In pursuit of happiness ~

2009-10-18T15:39:00.000-07:00

An old Arabic proverb says that there are two kinds of people: those who can be happy but they aren't and those who look for happiness but never find it. Are we to look for happiness or it comes to us when we least expect it? Happiness and misfortune always go into the same direction, closely and alongside. They pass each other during our entire life; they intertwine and separate. And man, in all that chaos is always striving for happiness, sometimes even without knowing what he is looking for. He observes other people, looks back on seeing them and their happiness while turning his back to his own. With that tremendous desire to have what others do and to want what others do, he forgets about himself and doesn't know how to live on what he has already got, even though he's got plenty: a wonderful kingdom on this beautiful Earth of ours in which he can create, love, smile, sing and jump; the kingdom in which he can steal a gust of wind, rays of the sun and sea waves, without being told a word; the kingdom in which gods gave him the power to create the works worthy of describing. Yet, man spends his days playing lottery while life, being given to him only once, irreversibly passes by him and disappears into the fog of wishes. And he's never as unhappy as he thinks he is or as happy as he hoped he would be. He persistently seeks the hidden treasure and curiously pokes his nose into other people's lives searching for the source of their happiness. Even Epimetheus and Pandora lived happily until curiosity stirred Pandora's mind and led her to unlock the marvellous box ornamented with jewels and golden decorations out of which all the troubles and suffering of human beings suddenly started coming out. Hope, which came out from the box last, like a small bird, represented not only a sign of consolation to humanity but also a warning that happiness is precious and rare and that it should be kept. A moment of happiness wipes away all the days of torment in us and helps us move on again. If people knew how little it takes to be happy they would avoid the worst moments in life. We will realize whether we were happy or not only when some misfortune happens. So, before you start looking for it, check - maybe you're already happy. Happiness is small, ordinary and unobtrusive and many aren't able to see it. All that we need to achieve it is within ourselves.
In pursuit of happiness, author Suzana Stojanović, 04.23.2007.

Jedna stara arapska poslovica kaže da postoje dve vrste ljudi: oni koji mogu biti srećni ali to nisu i oni koji traže sreću ali je ne nalaze. Da li se sreća traži ili nam se osmehne onda kada je najmanje očekujemo? Sreća i nesreća uvek idu u istom pravcu, blisko i naporedo. Prolaze jedna pored druge tokom celog našeg života, prepliću se i razilaze. A čovek, u celom tom haosu stalno juri u potrazi za srećom, ponekad i ne znajući šta traži. Posmatra druge ljude, osvrće se za njima i za njihovom srećom okrećući svojoj leđa. U toj ogromnoj želji da ima ono što drugi imaju, da želi ono što drugi žele, zaboravlja na sebe i ne ume da živi od onoga što već ima, a ima mnogo: predivno carstvo na ovoj našoj lepoj Zemlji u kome može da stvara, da voli, da se smeje, da peva i da skače; carstvo u kome može da krade dašak vetra, sunčeve zrake i morske talase a da mu pri tom niko ništa ne kaže; carstvo u kome su mu bogovi dali moć da čini dela dostojna opisivanja. Ipak, čovek svoje dane provodi igrajući igre na sreću dok život koji mu je samo jednom poklonjen nepovratno prolazi pored njega i nestaje u magli želja. I nikada nije tako nesrećan kao što misli, ni tako srećan kao što se nadao da će biti. Uporno traga za skrivenim blagom i radoznalo kopa po životima drugih ljudi tražeci izvor njihove sreće. I Epimetej i Pandora živeli su srećno dok radoznalost nije pomutila razum i navela Pandoru da otključa predivnu kutiju ukrašenu dragim kamenjem i zlatnim ukrasima iz koje su odjednom počele da izlaze sve nevolje i patnje ljudskog roda. Nada, koja je poslednja izašla iz kutije, kao neka mala ptica, predstavljala je znak utehe čovečanstvu ali i opomenu da je sreća vredna i retka i da je treba čuvati. Jedan minut sreće iščisti u nama sve dane mučenja i pomogne nam da ponovo krenemo dalje. Kada bi ljudi znali koliko malo treba da se bude srećan, izbegli bi najgore trenutke u životu. Da li smo bili srećni shvatićemo tek kad nam se dogodi neka nesreća. Zato, pre nego što krenete da je tražite, proverite - možda ste već srećni. Sreća je mala, obična i neupadljiva i mnogi ne umeju da je vide. Sve što je potrebno da je sagradimo nalazi se u nama.
U potrazi za srećom, autor Suzana Stojanović, 23.04.2007.

~ By imagination to the truth ~

2009-10-18T15:38:00.000-07:00

It all began out there, among the stars...On each threshold of survival, each bulwark of existence, the eternal music echoes in the warm crust of the magnificent, blue Earth. Lifeless, yet it still lives; without a weather forecast and fear, it sends its secret signals to the endless sky. Its strength is greater than infinity. Its name is Imagination. Its last name is Wanderer. It is always indefatigably in search of the values and truths. The value is relative. The truth is our nightmare. Will the absolute truth, if it exists at all at least in our imagination, satisfy our desires, or will it disappoint us to such an extent that we hate ourselves for having discovered it? Everything is so way ahead of us that we cannot reach it, but we can always chase that ‘something’ with our imagination. The day will come when we will find out that our imagination is the shortest way to the truth. And there will be more of us mortals with desires, fears and unfulfilled dreams, and all of us will die with a slight feeling of sadness. A lot of questions will be left behind; lots of sleepless nights spent staring at the stars. And once again, we won’t know where we have left our traces, we won’t know the meaning of our existence, we won’t find our homes; we will wander through the fog searching for our homeland. It’s sad that every existence is going to be only a memory and maybe some preserved image. The memory will remain for eternity, but what if there is no more eternity? Only imagination will go to eternity, taking with itself all of its secrets which have been hidden from ignorance and short-sightedness for centuries. So, let imagination lead us, at least sometimes, along the paths of our existence. Let’s try to avoid sadness that oppresses us so much and makes our insignificant lives even less significant. Let’s follow the paths of our imagination because only the feelings buried deep inside of us can take us far away from our cruel reality. Only imagination will survive; everything that exists outside of it is fragile, doomed to an end. And we don’t want the end, do we?

By imagination to the truth, author Suzana Stojanović, 01.24.2007.

Sve je počelo tamo u krošnji zvezda... Na svakom pragu opstanka, na svakom bedemu postojanja odzvanja jedna večna muzika u toploj skrami lepe, plave Zemlje. Bez života a ipak živi, bez vremenske prognoze i bez straha šalje svoje tajne signale u beskraj neba. Njena je snaga veća od beskraja. Njeno ime je Mašta. Njeno prezime je Lutalica. Ona uvek neumorno traga za vrednostima i istinama. Vrednost je relativna. Istina nam je mora. Da li će, ako uopste bar u mašti postoji, apsolutna istina zadovoljiti sva naša htenja ili će nas razočarati do te mere da mrzimo sami sebe što smo je otkrili? Sve je toliko daleko ispred nas da ga ne možemo dosegnuti, ali to nešto uvek možemo maštom juriti. Doći će dan kada ćemo upravo otkriti da je naša mašta najkraći put do istine. I biće nas još mnogo smrtnika sa željama, strahovima i nedosanjanim snovima, a svi mi umiraćemo sa dozom tuge. Ostaće mnogo pitanja iza nas, mnogo neprospavanih noći sa pogledom uprtim u zvezde. I ponovo nećemo znati gde smo ostavili svoje tragove, nećemo znati smisao našega postojanja, nećemo naći svoj dom. Lutaćemo u magli za svojim zavičajem. Tužno je sto će svako postojanje biti samo sećanje i možda neka sačuvana slika. Sećanje će ostati za večnost, a šta ako više ne bude večnosti? U večnost će otputovati samo mašta i poneće sa sobom sve svoje tajne vekovima skrivane od neznanja i kratkovidosti. Zato pustimo mašti na volju da nas bar ponekad odvede putevima našeg postojanja. Pokušajmo da izbegnemo tugu koja nas toliko pritiska i naš mali život čini jos manjim. Sledimo puteve svoje mašte, jer samo nas naši duboko sakriveni osećaji mogu poneti daleko od surove stvarnosti. Samo mašta će opstati, sve što postoji van nje je krhko, osuđeno na kraj. A mi ne želimo kraj, zar ne?
Maštom do istine, autor Suzana Stojanović, 24.01.2007.

~ Flame ~

2009-10-18T15:34:00.001-07:00

Flame 2006.
Original pastel 35x34 cm
Series The Magical World of Horses

~ Friends forever ~

2009-10-18T15:32:00.000-07:00

Even then when you think that everything is silent in you, when silence is the only friend, one word from far away changes your life. Maybe it is because you wanted that so much, maybe because you were just dreaming about it that very night, maybe because someone out there wants and longs for the same thing. In just one moment you are born again and start to grow, conceived just from one word, one very simple, sincere, warm and forgotten. Again you are wide awake from a long dream and you think that you are still sleeping and a tear stops in your eye one early summer morning. Yes, it is true that there exists someone, still brave to love, to share and to want, still brave to dream. My friend. I won't say your name because you know that I am writing only to you, I will not tell you thank you since you know that every my word, deep and true, is the biggest gratitude for every smile on my face, for my long time forgotten dreams, dreamt once again, for every morning full of hope. You are so far away and you are so close in the same time, whenever I need you - you are there, in my heart, patient and kind, brave and mindful. You hear me. You see me. Only you know the secret of the right word in the right moment and when you are silent - you say many things, you give a lot. Only you know how to take me to that long trip, into one unknown world where the stars are always seen. I hear you in every music we share, I see you in every our distant city we walk. And I know that something indestructible exists, something untouchable - you and me. Friends forever. I love every sunrise because I know that you are in it, I love every sunset because I know that I will be dreaming our dreams. And I have strengths, lots of strengths for the impossible. And I can, can do everything. One warm summer morning gave me you, gift that cannot be bought. I am giving you these words from the very bottom of my heart that will beat forever for you and your happiness...
Friends forever, author Suzana Stojanović, 07.18.2006.

I onda kada misliš da sve u tebi utihnulo je, kada jedini prijatelj ti je tišina, jedna jedina reč iz daleka promeni ti život. Možda zato što si to silno želeo, možda zato što si sanjao o tome baš te noći, možda zato što tamo daleko neko je isto hteo i želeo. U samo jednom trenu ponovo se rodiš i počnes da rasteš, začet iz samo jedne jedine reči, sasvim obične, iskrene, tople, zaboravljene. Ponovo se budiš iz dugog sna i misliš da još uvek sanjaš, i zaustavi se suza u tvom oku jednog ranog letnjeg jutra. Da, istina je, postoji još neko, još uvek hrabar da voli, da deli i da želi, jos uvek hrabar da sanja. Moj prijatelj. Neću reći tvoje ime jer znaš da ovo pišem samo tebi, neću ti reći hvala jer znaš da svaka moja reč, duboka i iskrena, najveće je hvala za svaki osmeh na mom licu, za moje odavno zaboravljene snove koje ponovo sanjam, za svako jutro puno nade. Tako si daleko i tako blizu, uvek kada te trebam tu si, u mom srcu, strpljiv i nežan, hrabar i brižljiv. Čujes me, vidiš me. Samo ti znaš tajnu prave reči u pravom trenutku. I onda kada ćutis mnogo kažes, mnogo dajes. Samo ti znaš da povedeš me na daleki put, u nepoznati svet gde uvek vide se zvezde. Čujem te u svakoj muzici koju delimo, vidim te u svakom našem dalekom gradu kojim šetamo i znam da postoji nešto neuništivo, nedodirljivo. Ja i ti. Prijatelji zauvek. Volim svako rađanje sunca jer znam da si ti u njemu, volim svaki smiraj dana jer znam da ću sanjati naše snove. I imam snage, imam mnogo snage za nemoguće. I mogu, mogu sve. Jedno toplo letnje jutro podarilo mi je tebe, poklon koji se ne kupuje. Ja ti poklanjam ove reči sa dna moga srca koje će uvek kucati za tebe i za tvoju sreću...
Prijatelji zauvek, autor Suzana Stojanović, 18.07.2006.

~ My way ~

2009-10-18T15:31:00.000-07:00

Once upon Hemingway said that happiness comes in different shapes and who's the one to recognize it. The only secret is to find out what makes you happy. There are small and great wishes in your life, small and great dreams. Every dream becomes great dream and every wish becomes great wish if it comes true. The only question is how to find happiness in labyrinth of life because of many highroads and cross-roads? In the open sky, our guide will be sun, in the open night, the stars will guide us but how to find your way in the darkness without stars? Only you, silence and darkness. For some people it is easier to find their ways in dark and silence. They see in the dark only what they want to see and they hear clearly themselves heart beating and the whispering of their wishes in silence. At the moment I write this, I'm trying to remember the beginning of my way, but I can' t. The ways have no beginnings and ends, they gather, they split, but everyone goes somewhere. Even when you come to dead-end, you can allways turn back and you are again on the new way. I remember my childhood and the morning by the window when I was thinking so long why everybody go and rush somewhere? Where do they arrive? Why birds fly all the time and where they fly? Why the rivers flow somewhere, why the roads follow rivers? I remember my sweetest dream, when I didn't want to wake up. I had wings and I was flying, so far, everywhere - left mountains and seas behind myself and get back to them again. I hadn't felt my body, only happiness without limits. I've dreamt again the same dream and one day I quit looking for my way. I found out that my way is inside me, without marks, without direction, endless. My way is my freedom. My happiness is my liberty. My way is my happiness. And I'll go wherever I want. Perhaps to follow some bird if it's feathers have enough colours, perhaps to follow some boat if the open sea is great enough, some train if there are no tunnels. I'll go to follow my wishes and I know I'll be happy as long as my way is inside me.
My way, author Suzana Stojanović, 08.11.2006.

Hemingvej je jednom prilikom rekao da je sreća nešto što dolazi u raznim oblicima a ko je taj ko će je prepoznati. Tajna je u tome što samo treba otkriti šta vas čini srećnim. U životu ne postoje male i velike želje, mali i veliki snovi. Svaki san je veliki san ako se ostvari i svaka želja je velika želja ako se ispuni. Kako pronaći sreću u lavirintu života gde je mnogo puteva, puteljka, raskrsnica? U vedrom nebu upravljaćemo se prema suncu, u vedroj noći upravljaćemo se prema zvezdama, a kako pronaći put u mraku kada nema zvezda? Samo mi, tišina i mrak. Neko lakše pronađe svoj put u mraku i tišini. U mraku vidi ono sto želi da vidi, u tišini jasno čuje otkucaje svoga srca i šapat svojih želja. Sada, dok ovo pišem, pokušavam da se setim gde je početak mog puta ali bez uspeha. Putevi nemaju početak i kraj, spajaju se, razdvajaju, svi vode nekuda. Čak i onda kada dođete do ćorsokaka uvek možete da se okrenete i vratite i ponovo ste na nekom putu. Sećam se svog detinjstva i jednog jutra kraj prozora kada sam dugo razmišljala zašto svi ljudi nekuda idu i žure? Gde stignu? Zašto ptice stalno lete i kuda lete? Zašto sve reke nekuda teku, zašto putevi prate reke? Sećam se svog najlepšeg sna kada nisam htela da se budim. Imala sam krila i letela sam dugo, svuda. Ostavljala sam za sobom planine i mora i opet im se vraćala. Nisam osećala svoje telo, samo sam bila beskrajno srećna. Isti san sanjala sam ponovo i jednoga dana prestala sam da tražim svoj put. Otkrila sam da je moj put u meni, bez obeležja, bez pravca, bez kraja. Moj put je moja sloboda. Moja sreća je moja sloboda. Moj put je moja sreća. I poći ću tamo gde želim - možda za nekom pticom ako je dovoljno boja u njenom perju, možda za nekim brodom ako je dovoljno velika pučina, možda za nekim vozom ako je malo tunela. Poći ću za svojim željama i znam da ću uvek biti srećna dok je moj put u meni.
Moj put, autor Suzana Stojanović, 11.08.2006.

~ We will always be together when the guitar is playing ~

2009-10-18T15:30:00.000-07:00

They say that fairy tales are only for those who believe in them. When once in your lifetime you find yourselves in a fairy tale, then it really takes you a long time to come back. I simply don't want much time to pass; I want to tell it while it still lasts, to steal that jewel from life that doesn't happen twice...In these early hours, while the guitar is playing, I'm trying to write a fairy tale about you and me but there aren't many words. I'm searching for them somewhere in our kingdom but they keep running away, keep hiding. And I don't know if I'm happy or sad, I don't know if I'm frightened. I only hear my heart beating in the rhythm of the guitar and our souls breathing and uniting while it is playing. I feel that you're with me even while you're dreaming, I hear you while you are silent, I see you disappearing round our corner while it's snowing. As my eyes are filling with tears I'm looking for words that are worthy only of you but they don't exist. My entire kingdom is reflected in your sad eyes. I live for their sparkle...and I wanted to whisper "I love you" so many times, but just saying "I love you" is not enough, so little can be done in this world to show my emotions to you. Even my paintings and this fairy tale of ours in the world in which fairy tales don't exist for a long time aren't enough. I miss you so much...I'm afraid to see you. You glow so much...I'm looking for builders to build the way to the place where stars are being born. You are so tender...I'm looking for the softest silk for your steps. You feel so much...I've spelt my pearls to illuminate the traces of your soul. The strength of my emotions makes me so helpless that I wish to run away from them, from you, even though I know that each new dawn is going to have your name. And I don't want to know if our fairy tale will last, I don't want to know what will happen tomorrow. I only want to stop this moment in which our pure souls unite while the guitar is playing. I only want to stop your look while you're looking at "Always together" and the horses that bathe in the purple sunset. And I know that we'll always be together there where we have left our traces. Our souls will tremble like soft strings while some new fairy tales are being created. Look for me while the guitar is playing, when sadness oppresses your heart and I'll always be here, beside you...the jewel in your crown, a ray of your sun, a white cloud in your blue sky, a river in your mountain, peace in your unrest.
We will always be together when the guitar is playing, author Suzana Stojanović, 03.20.2007.

Kažu da su bajke samo za one koji veruju u njih. Kada se u jednom životnom trenu nađete u jednoj bajci onda vam zaista treba puno vremena da se vratite. Ja jednostavno ne želim da prođe puno vremena, želim da je pričam dok još traje, da ukradem taj dragulj od života koji se ne ponavlja. U ovim sitnim satima, dok gitara svira, pokušavam da pišem bajku o tebi i meni a tako je malo reči. Jurim ih negde po našem carstvu a one uporno beže, kriju se. I ne znam da li sam srećna ili tužna, ne znam da li se bojim. Čujem samo svoje srce koje prati ritam gitare i naše duše koje dišu i spajaju se uz njene zvuke. Osećam da si sa mnom i dok sanjaš, čujem te dok ćutiš, vidim te kako nestaješ u pahuljama iza našeg ugla. Dok suze mi magle oči tražim reči koje su dostojne samo tebe, ali one ne postoje. Celo moje carstvo ogleda se u tvojim tužnim očima. Živim za njihov sjaj...i mnogo puta htela sam da ti šapnem "volim te" ali malo je reći samo "volim te", malo je toga na ovom svetu što se može uraditi da ti pokažem svoje emocije. Male su i moje slike i ova naša bajka u svetu u kojem bajke odavno ne postoje. Toliko mi nedostaješ...bojim se da te vidim. Toliko sijaš...tražim graditelje da sagradim put do mesta gde rađaju se zvezde. Toliko si nežan...tražim najmekše svile za tvoje korake. Toliko osećaš...prosula sam svoje bisere da osvetle tragove tvoje duše. Toliko sam nemoćna pred snagom svojih osećanja da poželim da pobegnem od njih, od tebe, a znam da će svaka nova zora da piše tvoje ime. I ne želim da znam da li će naša bajka da traje, ne želim da znam šta će biti sutra. Želim samo da zaustavim ovaj tren u kome spajaju se naše čiste duše uz zvuke gitare. Želim samo da zaustavim tvoj pogled dok posmatraš "Always together" i konje koji se kupaju u purpurju zalazećeg sunca. I znam da ćemo uvek biti zajedno tamo gde smo ostavili naše tragove. Naše duše treperiće poput nežnih žica dok se rađaju neke nove bajke. Potraži me uz zvuke gitare kad tuga pritiska ti srce, i biću uvek tu, pored tebe...dragulj u tvojoj kruni, zrak u tvom suncu, beli oblak u tvom plavom nebu, reka u tvojoj planini, mir u tvom nemiru.
Uvek ćemo biti zajedno uz zvuke gitare, autor Suzana Stojanović, 20.03.2007.

~ People from the shadow ~

2009-10-18T15:27:00.001-07:00

Since the beginning of time there has been a conflict between men, lions, dogs and roosters that always ends after one side loses its strength. There is one conflict that never ends - the one between good and evil. Man discovered it ages ago, probably out of boredom. People liked it so much that they nurtured it to this very day. There are people who don't want the rest of the world to know they take part in it. Those are the people from the shadow. Sometimes they are just ordinary people, people who we know and the ones we don't know, and sometimes powerful men who have never been seen, living legends only heard of, concealed from the world in their kingdom of good or evil. They lurk quietly under the moonlight, think, judge, observe. And all of them, more or less, create the future of our civilization. We often wonder how and why something happened, who changed our lives, our future. Maybe it's someone from your neighbourhood, someone you wake up with, someone you often went out with to the nearest café, or maybe someone you have never met but someone who wanted to know everything about you. People from the shadow see and hear all and their main occupation is to preserve the existence of good and evil at any cost, even if they lose their lives over it. They easily reach their aim by passing through when we are sound asleep but we are the ones who give them power by feeding them with our sincere wishes and secrets. We work, they just take credit for our labour, and without a sound, they make decisions about our insignificant lives. People from the shadow lurk into our lives, into our dreams. Those bad ones wait patiently for our first false move like snakes at the bottom of the ocean, then they silently emerge and pull us to the bottom, to their kingdom of darkness. The good ones illuminate the path for us, and we think it has been a stroke of luck. They say that happiness is only for the brave; I say that it is both for the brave and the wise. It's sad that more and more people are turning bad. Even the sun started running away to avoid their enormous shadow. Even the good ones, who until recently have helped the hard-workers achieve more, started to work. It's probably the only thing they have left. It's high time we ran away from boredom. Otherwise, we are going to become a part of the shadow.
People from the shadow, author Suzana Stojanović, 02.17.2007.

Od početka sveta postoje borbe ljudi, lavova, pasa, petlova i one se uvek jednom završe kada jedna strana poklekne. Postoji jedna borba koja se nikada ne završava. Borba dobra i zla. Izmislio je čovek nekada davno, valjda ne znajući šta da radi od dosade. Ova borba se toliko dopala ljudima da su je negovali do dana današnjeg. Postoje ljudi koji ne žele da svet zna da učestvuju u ovoj borbi. Ljudi iz senke. To su ponekad naizgled sasvim obični vidljivi ljudi, poznati i nepoznati, a ponekad moćnici koje niko nikada nije video, žive legende o kojima je samo slušao, sakriveni od sveta u svom carstvu dobra ili zla. Šunjaju se bešumno po mesečini, mudruju, vagaju, posmatraju. I svi oni, više ili manje kroje budućnost civilizacije. Često se pitamo kako i zašto se nešto desilo, ko je promenio naš život, našu budućnost. Možda je to neko iz vašeg komšiluka, možda neko sa kim se budite, možda neko sa kim ste često odlazili do najbližeg kafea, a možda neko koga nikada niste sreli a on je hteo da zna sve o vama. Ljudi iz senke sve čuju i sve vide i njihovo glavno zanimanje je da sačuvaju dobro ili zlo po bilo koju cenu, makar ih to stajalo života. Oni lako dolaze do svog cilja, prolaze pored našeg čvrstog sna i mi im dajemo oružje, mi ih hranimo svojim iskrenim željama i tajnama. Mi radimo, oni samo ubiru plodove našega rada i bez glasa odlučuju o našim malim životima. Ljudi iz senke bešumno se ušunjaju u naš život, u naše snove. Oni loši poput zmija na dnu okeana strpljivo čekaju naš prvi pogrešan korak, onda tiho isplivaju i odvuku nas do dna, do njihovog mračnog carstva. Oni dobri osvetle nam stazu, a mi mislimo da je to bila samo puka sreća. Kažu da sreća prati samo hrabre a ja bih rekla da sreća prati hrabre i mudre. Žalosno je što je sve više loših ljudi. Čak je i Sunce počelo da beži od njihove ogromne senke. Oni dobri, koji su do nedavno pomagali vrednima da postignu što više, čak su i oni počeli da rade. Valjda im je to jedino preostalo oružje. Došlo je krajnje vreme da bežimo od dosade. U suprotnom postaćemo deo senke.
Ljudi iz senke, autor Suzana Stojanović, 17.02.2007.

~ Winner inside ourselves ~

2009-10-18T15:26:00.001-07:00

Life is a labyrinth we must wriggle through, so many times lost and confused. The Sun is shining over you in one moment and the storm turbulents over you in the other moment. Every door will open only to those who believe and to those who keep going ahead and never look back behind them. The nature's laws are so strange - the winners are on one side, and defeated are on the other. Everyone is defeated only war and draw is possible only in chess game. It is easy to let to be defeated but how to find a tiny spark inside ourselves that leads us to victory. Where to go when there is no path? On what do we rely, when there is nothing to rely upon? Where to find a shelter if the winds blow from all directions? How to win if you are your own path, rely and a shelter? We only have ourselves, and not deliberated how much actually do we have. All our strength and belief is inside ourselves and we will reach nowhere unless we start. The winner is one who can defeat himself first, the one who has enough courage and strength to face himself, and to make the first and the hardest step when no one expect it. The winner is the one who can be born from the ashes, like Phoenix, even more stronger and wiser, ready to confront with the storm and to shout: "Let me see what you can do, because I can do that as well!" Only winner knows that route to victory is long and hard, with lot of suffering and sadness... but he is also deliberated how warm is that light waiting for him at the end of the tunnel, worth to fight and live for. With tears in his eyes and wounds on his heart, winner rushes ahead and never counts his steps and victories. Winner always carries deep inside himself story of Daedalus and Icarus, and doesn't fly too high towards the Sun, and too low towards the sea. Only the ones with big hearts win, the ones who give hand to better one as well to fallen one, the one who can believe in visions and who can hear impossible, the one who has enough courage to observe existing coasts. Winner inside ourselves sleeps and awaits to be awaken by the bells...
Winner inside ourselves, author Suzana Stojanović, 09.09.2006.

Život je lavirint kroz koji se moramo probijati, mnogo puta izgubljeni i zbunjeni. U jednom te trenu greje sunce, u drugom te bije bura. Vrata će se otvarati samo pred onima koji veruju i koji uvek idu napred, ne osvrćući se iza sebe. Čudni su zakoni prirode - na jednoj strani pobednici, na drugoj poraženi. Samo su u ratu svi poraženi i samo u šahu postoji remi. Najlakše je biti poražen, ali kako pronaći i najmanju iskru u nama koja će nas odvesti ka pobedi? Kuda krenuti kad nema puta? Na šta se osloniti kada nema oslonca? Gde pronaći sklonište kada sa svih strana duvaju vetrovi? Kako pobediti kada smo sami sebi put, oslonac i sklonište? Imamo samo sebe a nismo ni svesni koliko mnogo imamo. Sva naša snaga i vera je u nama i nikuda nećemo stići ako ne krenemo. Pobednik je onaj ko najpre pobedi sebe, onaj ko ima dovoljno hrabrosti i snage da se suoči sa samim sobom i da načini onaj prvi i najteži korak kada to niko ne očekuje. Pobednik je onaj ko se poput Feniksa rađa iz pepela još snažniji i mudriji, spreman da se suoči sa burom i da uzvikne: "Da vidim šta možes, jer to mogu i ja!" Samo pobednik zna da je put ka pobedi dug i težak, da je mnogo tuge i patnje na tom putu, ali isto tako zna koliko je topla ona svetlost koja ga čeka na kraju tunela i za koju vredi živeti i boriti se. Sa suzama u očima i ranama na srcu on neumorno ide dalje i nikada ne broji svoje korake i pobede. Pobednik uvek nosi u sebi priču o Dedalu i Ikaru i ne leti previše visoko prema Suncu i previše nisko prema moru. Pobeđuje samo onaj ko ima veliko srce, onaj ko pruža ruku i posrnulome i boljem od sebe, onaj ko veruje u vizije i čuje nemoguće, onaj ko ima hrabrosti da posmatra postojeće obale. Pobednik spava u nama i čeka zvona da ga bude...
Pobednik u nama, autor Suzana Stojanović, 09.09.2006.

~ Dream ~

2009-10-18T15:25:00.000-07:00

Dream 2003.
Original oil on canvas painting 50x40 cm
Series The Magical World of Horses

~ Princess ~

2009-10-18T15:24:00.000-07:00

Princess 2003.
Original oil on canvas painting 50x40 cm
Series The Magical World of Horses

~ Love or a game ~

2009-10-18T15:22:00.001-07:00

Life, the biggest of all miracles, often surprises us when we least expect it. It awakens mischievous spirits in us, restless waves in our soul and the noblest weakness of our mind called Love. And we sail across its calm seas until Eros has a hand in it and takes us on his golden wings, with an arrow through our hearts, into the sky - to powerful Aphrodite and her fragrant gardens, where pigeons play in the shadows of roses in full bloom, where love speaks and reason is silent. Is love really love if it's not deep and passionate, if it's not a foolish act and a game - the one that can hurt us but that can also take us along the way of complete happiness? Great love needs great players as well, those who are ready to come to grips with every temptation that awaits them on that long way, the players that are moderate in what they've found to be good, those who don't muddy the spring which they drink water from, who can keep secrets, the players that know when they should stop because even happiness gets tired if carries someone on its back long. Only great players know how to get a kiss without being left without it, they know how to play the game in which there will be no distrust because they know that distrust is an axe in the tree of love. Love is a game that needs patience - only those who can wait gradually get it all; a game that needs courage - courage to see the world the way we want to; a game that needs renunciation - we rarely think about what we have and almost always of what we don't have. The magic of true love is in the fact that we don't know it will end - those who think that love is temporary have never loved. Even if we don't get what we want out of love, it can be a marvelous burst of happiness - maybe some new challenge, maybe some new game because we always love more something we win with effort. If in a game we follow love too much it will run away; if we sometimes hide from it, even for a second, it will look for us. The game of love will last for as long as there are waves at its sea and tenderness on its shores; for as long as we remember with a smile on our face what should have been endured, for as long as we don't know why we love, for as long as we keep and protect love against everything, even against the truth that can kill it. As we become aware of the true taste of water only in a desert, we become aware of love only when we lose it. Are we worthy enough of a great and sincere love so that we can allow ourselves to lose it because of our caprices? Is love real if it doesn't forgive those who make mistakes out of fear not to make a mistake? Is love only a game with no winner?
Love or a game, author Suzana Stojanović, 04.07.2007.

Život, najveće od svih čuda, često nam priređuje iznenađenja onda kada to najmanje očekujemo. Probudi nestašne duhove u nama, nemirne talase u našoj duši, najplemenitiju slabost našeg uma zvanu Ljubav. I plovimo po njegovim mirnim morima sve dok Eros ne umeša svoje prste i ponese nas ustreljene na svojim zlatnim krilima do neba, do moćne Afrodite i njenih mirisnih vrtova gde se u senkama rascvetalih ruža igraju golubovi, gde ljubav govori a razum ćuti. Da li je ljubav ljubav ako nije duboka i strasna, ako nije ludost i igra - igra koja nas može povrediti ali i odvesti na put potpune sreće? Velika ljubav traži isto tako velike igrače, spremne da se uhvate u koštac sa svim iskušenjima koja ih čekaju na tom dugom putu, igrače koji imaju meru u onome što su našli da je dobro, koji ne mute izvor iz kojeg piju vodu, koji umeju da čuvaju tajne, igrače koji znaju kada treba da stanu, jer i sreća se umori ako nekog dugo nosi na leđima. Samo veliki igrači znaju da dobiju poljubac tako da ne ostanu bez njega, da igraju igru u kojoj neće biti mesta nepoverenju jer znaju da je nepoverenje sekira na stablu ljubavi. Ljubav je igra koja traži strpljenje - samo onima koji umeju da čekaju vremenom sve dolazi; igra koja traži hrabrost - hrabrost da vidimo svet onako kako želimo; igra koja traži odricanje - retko kada pomišljamo na ono što imamo, a gotovo uvek na ono što nam nedostaje. Čarolija prave ljubavi je u tome što ne znamo da će joj doći kraj - nikada nisu voleli oni koji misle da je ljubav prolazna. Čak i kada u ljubavi ne dobijemo ono što želimo to može biti čudesan udarac sreće - možda neki novi izazov, možda neka nova igra, jer uvek se više voli ono što se osvoji sa naporom. Ako u igri previše sledimo ljubav ona će bežati, ako se ponekad na trenutak sakrijemo od nje ona će nas tražiti. Ljubavna igra će da traje dok ima talasa na njenom moru, dok ima nežnosti na njenim obalama, dok se sa osmehom na licu sećamo onoga što je trebalo izdržati, dok ne znamo zašto volimo, dok čuvamo i štitimo ljubav od svega pa čak i od istine koja može da je ubije. Kao što se pravi ukus vode spoznaje tek u pustinji tako se i ljubav spozna tek kad se izgubi. Da li smo dovoljno vredni velike i iskrene ljubavi da možemo sebi da dozvolimo taj luksuz da je izgubimo zbog naših hirova? Da li je ljubav prava ako ne oprosti onima koji greše iz straha da ne pogreše? Da li je ljubav samo igra bez pobednika?
Ljubav ili igra, autor Suzana Stojanović, 07.04.2007.

~ Language of roses ~

2009-10-18T15:21:00.000-07:00

Language of roses 2003.
Original oil on canvas painting 50x40 cm
Series Temptations

~ Awakening ~

2009-10-18T15:19:00.001-07:00

Awakening 2002.
Original oil on canvas painting 24x30 cm
Series The Magical World of Horses

~ On the wings of the whirlwind ~

2009-10-18T15:18:00.001-07:00

There's a genie from the magic lamp that is as old and powerful as the time itself, the master of space and insignificant lives. We cannot see it; we only hear its steps. It takes away and destroys our hopes and dreams, our hearths and homes. Only the windmills, ships, kites, balloons and even some birds look forward to it. Its name is Whirlwind. It comes and goes whenever it wants, takes on its wings weak and helpless birds that don't have time to grow up and that cannot find shelter. They believe that they would be better off on the wings of the whirlwind. They yield to its power and set off into the unknown. Sometimes, these birds come back. Perhaps they are afraid of what is familiar to them or they are just running away from life, from themselves. They leave behind their young that, with sadness in their eyes, watch them disappear into the whirlwind and wait persistently for some new whirlwinds, hoping they will see them again. Some birds have to fly. Everything they've got is just a memory of the burnt nest and the whirlwind that will give them hope of finding their flock. These birds never come back. Their first stop is a place where they can find a glimmer of hope. There's a species of birds with extremely bright feathers - birds that aren't meant to be in cages. They fly because they want to, and because they know where they're flying to. They know all the whirlwinds, the old and the new ones, the slight and the strong. They wait patiently for the day when they will fly into the new beginning and rush to fulfill their dreams on the wings of the whirlwind. They know their way back, the question is whether they want to return. These birds are passed into stories and legends. When they fly away, a part of us that has been aware that keeping them in cages was a sin is quite content. And, then again, we look with sadness at the nests they have left behind. Everything is too uniform and empty without them. We look forward to the slightest whirlwind hoping that we'll see them again, so we stare at the clouds. All we can do is wait for the carrier-pigeons.
On the wings of the whirlwind, author Suzana Stojanović, 02.17.2007.

Postoji jedan duh iz čarobne lampe star i moćan koliko i vreme, gospodar prostora i malih života. Ne vidimo ga a čujemo samo njegove korake. Nosi i pustoši naše snove i nade, naša gnezda i domove. Raduju mu se samo vetrenjače, lađe, zmajevi, baloni, čak i neke ptice. Njegovo ime je Vihor. Dolazi i odlazi kad hoće, odnosi na svojim krilima slabe i nejake ptice koje ne čekaju da odrastu i koje ne znaju da se sklone. Veruju da će im na krilima vihora biti lepše i bolje. Prepuštaju se njegovoj moći i odlaze u nepoznato. Ove se ptice ponekad vrate. Možda se plaše poznatog a možda samo beže od života, od sebe. Ostavljaju za sobom svoje nejake koji ih sa tugom u očima posmatraju kako nestaju u oblacima vihora i dugo čekaju neke nove vihore sa nadom da će ih ponovo videti. Neke ptice jednostavno moraju da lete. Sve što imaju samo je sećanje na spaljeno gnezdo i vihor koji će ih poneti na put nade da će jednom pronaći svoje jato. Ove se ptice nikada ne vrate. Zaustave se na prvoj stanici gde ima bar malo nade. Postoji jedna vrsta ptica čije je perje previše jarko, ptice kojima nije suđeno da budu zatvorene. One lete zato što žele da lete i znaju gde lete. Poznaju sve vihore, i stare i nove, i one jake i one slabije. Strpljivo čekaju dan da polete u svoje novo sutra, da na krilima vihora brzo stignu svoje snove. One znaju da se vrate samo je pitanje da li to žele. Ove ptice postaju priče i legende. Kada odlete, deo nas, koji je znao da je bio greh zatvarati ih, raduje se. A opet sa tugom posmatramo gnezda koja su ostavile za sobom. Sve je suviše jednolično i prazno bez njih. Radujemo se i najmanjem vihoru sa nadom da ćemo ih ponovo videti i dugo posmatramo oblake. Jedino nam ostaje da čekamo pismonoše.
Na krilima vihora, autor Suzana Stojanović, 17.02.2007.

~ Blue blood ~

2009-10-18T15:17:00.001-07:00

Blue blood 2002.
Original oil on canvas painting 24x30 cm
Series The Magical World of Horses

~ Memories ~

2009-10-18T15:15:00.000-07:00

There is hidden treasure, deep inside ourselves, only we can see it, touch it, only we can have it whenever we want, to spend it as much as we wish and not to spend all of it ever. It's name is Memories. And in the moment when something is missing a lot, you go to your hidden treasure and search for the thing you haven't had for a long time and you would really like to have it once again, touch your sorrow, and again in one moment, happy like that. You remember one of those many days that changed your life. In the sea of memories you look for the answers to many questions, in only one moment you realize that many things you could not prevent and stop but you are happy that you have memories, your endless treasure house, you could carry every joy and every sorrow of your heart in it and to enjoy them whenever you want. If there had not been so much joy, you would have never known how much the life is beautiful and only one, if there had not been so much sorrow, I could not have written this to you now, there would not have been enough colours in my paintings. I return to my short childhood with smile on my face, I remember my first coloured paintings and little dreams, little wishes, first small dog, first violin that I rejoiced that much. And I would like to be a child again just for one moment, to touch all those clean and forgotten things, to be happy for small presents, for every flower in my mother's garden, every colourful bird that would by chance flew to our windows, every coulored pencil and my grandpa's big boxes of candies. Now I know that I was a child for such short time, but that short time never died in me at least a small part of every my painting I will give to my childhood - maybe to blueness of the sky, that was carrying our first kites, maybe to greenness of grass, where we were trolling so many times, maybe to silver twinkling of river, where we chased frogs for the first time and laughed for long time. I return to my first school days, to first wickedness when we did not even know what we wanted. The thing that we were young and immature was enough. I return to my first sea and its waves, first shells which I was looking for hours and hours on the other beaches. I return to those people who are not present anymore but who gave me a lot, to my grandfather, who was my voice of wisdom, who took with himself all our secrets into one world far away, who gave me a heart that big, I return to our last talk. I return to my friends and our sleepless nights. I return to my Peggy who knew how to love, to look after and to protect my peaceful dream. Every day I return to my mother and my father who live for my smile. I return to day before when for the first time I wished to write down these words. I quest for my memories, for the day when I stopped being a child and I know that I will search for it forever since it does not exist. Every new morning was brining me new drops of life that were collecting, disappearing and again falling down on our soul, heavy and inexplicable. And in the moment we do not want that at all, we hear them again persistently banging on the windows. And we can not handle with them, we can only wait for the sunshine to melt them but the Sun is not allways shining on our windows. I remember my sorrows and unfinished stories, I remember the life that did not want to give a lot and wanted to take a lot. And if there it had not been I would not have remembered one love on wheels, I would not have remembered one March and deep dark eyes in purple colour of sunset, I would have not known why I like Carmen and Forrest Gump. If there had not been that much of darkness, my paintings would not have had that light. If there had not been that many unfulfilled wishes I would not have dreamt. And again I rejoice at every new day although I know that it is full of sorrow and disappointment, I rejoice the fact that I exist, the fact that I breed, that I create, that I transform everything bad into good, I rejoice at every smile that I see in someone's face, every warm word. And I know that everything is not still lost since we exist and our memories too.

Memories, author Suzana Stojanović, 07.27.2006.

Postoji jedno sakriveno blago, duboko u nama. Samo mi možemo da ga vidimo i dodirnemo, samo mi možemo da ga imamo uvek kada poželimo, da ga trošimo koliko hoćemo i da ga nikada ne potrošimo. Njegovo ime je Sećanja. I onda kada ti nešto mnogo nedostaje odeš do svog sakrivenog blaga i potražiš ono što odavno nemaš a voleo bi ponovo da imaš, dodirneš svoju tugu i ponovo si na trenutak srećan. Setiš se jednog od mnogih dana koji ti je promenio život. U moru sećanja tražiš odgovore na mnoga pitanja. U samo jednom trenu shvatiš da mnogo toga i da si hteo nisi mogao da zaustaviš i da zadržiš, ali si srećan što imaš sećanja, svoju beskrajnu riznicu u kojoj možeš da čuvaš sve radosti i tuge svoga srca i da si sa njima uvek kada poželiš. Da nije bilo toliko radosti nikada ne bih znala koliko je život lep i samo jedan, da nije bilo toliko tuge ne bih mogla sada da vam pišem, ne bi bilo dovoljno boja na mojim slikama. Vraćam se u svoje kratko detinjstvo i sa osmehom na licu sećam se svojih prvih šarenih slika i malih snova, malih želja, prvog malenog psa, prve violine kojoj sam se toliko radovala. I volela bih da samo na jedan tren ponovo budem dete, da dodirnem sve ono čisto i zaboravljeno, da se radujem malim poklonima, svakom cvetu u dvorištu moje drage majke, svakoj šarenoj ptici koja bi slučajno doletela na naše prozore, svakoj šarenoj olovci i velikim kutijama slatkiša moga dede. Sada znam da mnogo sam malo bila dete, ali i to malo nikada nije umrlo u meni, makar samo jedan delić svake svoje slike pokloniću svom detinjstvu: možda u plavetnilu neba koje je nosilo naše prve zmajeve, možda u zelenilu trave po kojoj smo se toliko puta valjali, možda u srebrnom treperenju reke u kojoj smo prvi put jurili žabe i dugo se smejali. Vraćam se u svoje prve školske dane, u prve nestašluke kada nismo znali šta smo hteli. Bilo je dovoljno samo to što smo mladi i nezreli. Vraćam se svom prvom moru i njegovim talasima, prvim školjkama za kojima sam satima tragala po dugim obalama. Vraćam se onima kojih više nema a mnogo su mi dali, svom dedi koji je bio moj glas razuma, koji je sve naše tajne odneo sa sobom u daleki svet, koji mi je toliko sreće poklonio, vraćam se našem poslednjem dugom razgovoru. Vraćam se svojim prijateljima i našim neprospavanim noćima. Vraćam se svojoj Pegi koja je znala da voli, da čuva i da brani moj miran san. Vraćam se svakog dana svom ocu i majci koji žive za moj osmeh. Vraćam se u juče kada prvi put poželela sam da napišem ove reči. Tragam u svojim sećanjima za danom kada sam prestala da budem dete i znam da ću tragati uvek jer on ne postoji. Svako novo jutro donosilo nam je nove kapi života koje su se polako taložile, nestajale i ponovo padale na našu dušu, teške, neobjašnjive. I onda kada to najmanje želimo ponovo ih čujemo kako uporno lupaju po našim prozorima. I ne možemo im ništa, možemo samo da čekamo sunce da ih istopi ali sunca nema uvek na našim prozorima. Setih se svojih tuga i nedorečenih priča, setih se života koji nije hteo puno da daje a voleo je da uzima. I da nije bilo njega ne bih se sećala jedne ljubavi na točkovima, ne bih se sećala jednog marta i dubokih tamnih očiju u purpurju zalazećeg sunca, ne bih znala zašto volim Carmen i Forrest Gump. Da nije bilo toliko mraka moje slike imale bi malo svetla. Da nije bilo toliko neispunjenih želja ne bih sanjala. I opet se radujem svakom novom danu iako znam da puno je tuge i razočarenja u njemu, radujem se što postojim, što dišem, što stvaram, što želim da pretvorim sve loše u dobro, radujem se svakom osmehu koji vidim na nečijem licu, svakoj toploj reči. I znam da još uvek nije sve izgubljeno dok je nas i naših sećanja.

Sećanja, autor Suzana Stojanović, 27.07.2006.

~ Freedom is power ~

2009-10-18T15:14:00.000-07:00

It is said that, on a train, there is hope and fear of setting off into the world, the pain of many goodbyes and the sorrow of aimless journeys, the restlessness of youth and the uselessness of many expectations. Train journeys are long, they may represent the only moment when we feel that all the time in this world belongs to us. As the images of cities and people are quickly passing by, we are slowly thinking about our own life. On that long journey we have to choose whether to live our own life or to let ourselves lead a fake one. We meet different people, hear their life stories which are sometimes tragic and sometimes beautiful. This is a story about a man lost somewhere on the bridge between family and work, in the crowd of people and reality. I met him by accident twenty years ago when I decided to take a step into the far away world and face all its beauty and dangers. Somewhere in that world I met him, the man who reappeared so many times in my thoughts. I remember that time when we were young and brave but at the same time conscious that freedom is our greatest treasure, the priceless treasure. Our home were trains and freedom, the sky full of stars which we observed for so long, fantasizing. And then everything changed. War ruined our wishes and dreams, we could no longer see the stars. Everything turned into dust and the wind that carried lives and people into an unknown direction...We have never seen or heard from each other again. All that left was a memory and the promise we gave one another a long time ago. I’ve been keeping him deep in my heart for all these years. Now, while I’m writing this, I’m coming back to him for the last time; for the last time I remember everything with tears in my eyes...After twenty years someone from the far away world tried to refresh his memories. I don’t know how but I knew it was him. Everything seemed unreal, I thought I was dreaming...and then, suddenly, I started waking up from that dream. My memory started to fade away somewhere into the distance, in the shadow of the man who was looking at me without the sparkle in his eyes, in the shadow of bodyguards who kept his freedom...- I’ve become a powerful man - was one of the first sentences he pronounced. - And what is power? - I asked. His blurred look wandered around the black limousine with dark windows, his bodyguards were waiting like trained dogs, being quiet, listening...An unnatural smile was spreading across the room while he was telling me about his wealth, about people whose destinies he created. While I was watching a strange man in the same body, pain was ripping through my chest. He was in the clouds not knowing that greater height brings greater desolation. That powerful man I no more recognised tried to buy my freedom with gifts, he forgot that once he knew that freedom cannot be bought and that generosity isn’t in one’s pocket but in one’s heart. He couldn’t face the fact that I remained the same, that in spite of all the temptations I managed to preserve myself; the price wasn’t important. He was planning our happiness without knowing that nothing’s more hopeless than its planning. - Do you remember the promise? - I asked. He was quiet. That was some kind of an answer, too. While he was enjoying his power I was creating. I created My world and gave it to him as a present, I gave something priceless, the part of my heart where I kept and nurtured the memory and the promise. It was hard saying goodbye, not to the strange man in the same body but to the memories. I said goodbye and kissed my freedom. And yes, I felt powerful!
Freedom is power, author Suzana Stojanović, 07.10.2008.

Kažu da je u vozu nada i bojazan polaska u svet, bol mnogih rastanaka i sav jad besciljnih putovanja, nemir mladosti i uzaludnost mnogih očekivanja. Putovanja u vozu su duga, možda jedini trenuci kada imamo osećaj da sve vreme ovoga sveta pripada nama. Dok slike gradova i ljudi brzo prolaze pored nas, mi sporo razmišljamo o svom životu. Na tom dugom putu moramo da odaberemo da li ćemo živeti sopstvenim životom ili ćemo sebi dopustiti da vodimo lažan život. Upoznajemo razne ljude, slušamo njihove životne priče, ponekad tragične, ponekad lepe. Ovo je priča o jednom čoveku, izgubljenom negde na mostu između porodice i poslova, u gomili ljudi i realnosti. Upoznala sam ga slučajno pre dvadeset godina kada sam odlučila da zakoračim u daleki svet i da se suočim sa svim njegovim lepotama i opasnostima. Negde u tom svetu srela sam njega, čoveka kome sam se mnogo puta vraćala u mislima. Sećam se tog vremena kada smo bili mladi i hrabri, ali isto tako svesni da je sloboda naše najveće bogatstvo, bogatstvo koje nema cenu. Naš dom bili su vozovi i sloboda, nebo puno zvezda koje smo dugo posmatrali i maštali. A onda se sve promenilo. Rat je opustošio naše želje i snove, više nismo mogli da vidimo zvezde. Sve se pretvorilo u prašinu i vetar koji je nosio živote i ljude u nekom nepoznatom pravcu... Više se nikada nismo videli ni čuli. Ostalo je samo sećanje i obećanje koje smo jedno drugom davno dali. Svih ovih godina čuvala sam ga duboko u svom srcu. Sada dok ovo pišem poslednji put mu se vraćam, poslednji put se sećam svega sa suzama u očima... Posle dvadeset godina neko iz dalekog sveta pokušao je da osveži sećanja. Ne znam kako, ali znala sam da je on. Sve je izgledalo nestvarno, mislila sam da sanjam... a onda, iznenada, počela sam da se budim iz sna. Moje sećanje počelo je da nestaje negde u daljini, u senci čoveka koji me posmatrao bez sjaja u očima, u senci telohranitelja koji su čuvali njegovu slobodu... - Postao sam moćan čovek - bila je jedna od prvih rečenica koje je izgovorio. - A šta je to moć? - pitala sam. Njegov zamućeni pogled lutao je po crnoj limuzini sa tamnim prozorima, njegovi telohranitelji su poput dresiranih pasa čekali, ćutali, slušali. Izveštačeni smeh širio se po sobi dok je pričao o svom bogatstvu, o ljudima čije je sudbine krojio. Dok sam posmatrala nepoznatog čoveka u istom telu, bol mi je cepao grudi. Leteo je pomahnitalo ka visini ne znajući da veća visina donosi i veću pustoš. Taj nepoznati moćni čovek pokušao je da kupi moju slobodu poklonima, zaboravio je da je nekada znao da se sloboda ne kupuje i da darežljivost nije u džepu nego u srcu. Nije mogao da se suoči sa činjenicom da sam ostala ista, da sam uprkos svim iskušenjima uspela da sačuvam sebe; cena nije bila bitna. Planirao je našu sreću i ne znajući da ništa nije beznadežnije od njenog planiranja. - Da li se sećas obećanja? - pitala sam. Ćutao je. I to je bila neka vrsta odgovora. Dok je uživao u svojoj moći ja sam stvarala. Stvorila sam "My world" i poklonila ga njemu, poklonila sam nešto što nema cenu, deo svog srca u kome sam čuvala i negovala sećanje i obećanje. Bilo je teško reći zbogom, ne nepoznatom čoveku u istom telu, već sećanjima. Rekla sam zbogom i poljubila svoju slobodu. I da, osećala sam se moćno!

Sloboda je moć, autor Suzana Stojanović, 10.07.2008.

~ Love ~

2009-10-18T15:12:00.001-07:00

Our world would be gloomy and empty if it did not offer to every single epoch something new for exploring. Nature as the greatest mystery does not immediately reveal its secrets to everyone. Human brain has been forcing itself from the very beginning to find out its secrets, to touch its hidden treasures. Those who have been the most persistent and the most curious dedicated their whole lives to the quest to the unknown. There is one trip that never ends. There is one eternal mystery that lives of it's appearance, belives in miracles, greatest wisdom and the finest spirituality. The name of it is Love. It is a beginning and the end of everything. Mighty and unbeatable as such does not recognize the borders, races, religions, centuries. It recognizes only heroism because it asks for the victims. Its bravery will remain alive in Paris and Helen, Romeo and Juliet, Titanic - on the bottom of the ocean, Braveheart. True love unfortunates are the privileges of only those chosen spirits and big hearts. Great artists have found their lost peace and great inspiration in love. They have exceeded their own limits. Love gave birth to the most beautiful compositions, paintings, poems. Only those who have their souls full of tenderness can love. Love is the greatest degree of everything that carries one not sordid heart, greatest effort, total self-sacrifice, life in loving person and for that loving person, one soul parted into two bodies. Love fulfils everything and replaces everything. Patient and tender, love derives from the truth and it is always ready to trust and forgive. Quiet and tender, cherishes us like wind, we don't see it, but feel it. Is love only a flower growing on the edge of scar mountain?

Love, author Suzana Stojanović, 12.24.2006.

Naš svet bio bi turoban i ništavan kada svakoj epohi ne bi nudio nešto novo za istraživanje. Priroda, najveća od svih misterija, ne otkriva svoje tajne odjednom i svima. Ljudski um od postanka upirao se da dokuči njene tajne, da dodirne njene sakrivene bogate riznice. Oni najuporniji i najznatiželjniji ceo svoj život posvetili su traganjima i putovanjima u nepoznato. Postoji jedno putovanje koje se nikada ne završava. Postoji jedna večna misterija koja živi od priviđenja, koja veruje u čuda, najveća mudrost i najfinija duševnost. Njeno ime je Ljubav. Ona je početak i kraj svega. Moćna i nepobediva ne poznaje granice, rase, vere, vekove. Poznaje samo herojstvo jer traži žrtve. Njena slava ostaće da živi u Parisu i Heleni, u Romeu i Juliji, u Titaniku na dnu okeana, u Hrabrom Srcu. Istinske ljubavne nesreće privilegija su samo odabranih duhova i velikih srca. Veliki umetnici u ljubavi su pronašli izgubljeni mir i najveću inspiraciju, prevazilazili sopstvene granice. Ljubav je iznedrila najlepše kompozicije, slike, pesme. Vole samo oni čija je duša prepuna nežnosti. Ljubav je najveći stepen svega što nosi nekoristoljubivo srce, najveće pregnuće, totalno samoodricanje, život u voljenom biću i za voljeno biće, jedna duša podeljena u dva tela. Ljubav sve ispuni i sve zameni. Strpljiva i nesebična, ljubav počiva na istini i uvek je spremna da veruje i da oprosti. Tiha i nežna, miluje nas poput vetra, ne vidimo je a osećamo je. Da li je ljubav samo cvet koji raste na ivici strme planine?

Ljubav, autor Suzana Stojanović, 24.12.2006.

~ Pride without cover ~

2009-10-18T15:10:00.000-07:00

During one of many travels into known and unknown, during one of many usual and unusual days, while diving into half-dream and you think of everything and nothing, suddenly you meet someone. They say that the first impression is the most important. There is certain truth in that as long as it turns out different. His attitude, overt pride, something in his words that leaves us breathless and attract you. It seems that one moment has just turned into eternity, you just don't want it to stop. Something in that look of the eye drags you to go further, to explore, to find out more...Here a story of a human who changed own name begins, about the man who was once called SOMEONE and today is called NOONE. Just in one moment you come to glance that you were born under one happy star, that you have found the treasure on the bottom of the sea, something precious that is rarely met in a life. His eye look, shiny, mysterious and unattainable, signifed also his intellect. His words, calm and balanced, in one strange but in the same time logical composition, weaved a story that could be read in many ways. Security and clearness of his speech relieves you from every suspicion, simply believing in the things you hear. SOMEONE had his own attitude about everything and with his proud presence he showed that he believes in himself and that he stands for everything he says. And in the moments when he rarely surprises with his motion, you feel so great, SOMEONE was thinking about you, if he wasn't so SOMEONE in your eyes, it would be so usual, daily. That beautiful feeling keeps you in days while life, cruel and unpredictable, does start with the other flow. In that mess only courageous, secure and witted go further, those weak remain where they are. SOMEONE, in the shade of it's pride does not want to fight and go more, his pride is more important than anything, even than his life. And you still believe that SOMEONE is SOMEONE, you believe that his time will come, you find million reasons to justify him in your own eyes only, not to damage that first impression. You are listening carefully to his words, you absorb them into your soul...and then, slowly you make the puzzle, you start to know SOMEONE up to the end. SOMEONE started to become NOONE. In a moment you think that only wrong composition of words was guilty for that, but you cannot blame the deeds, so clear and imperishable. SOMEONE became NOONE. In front of you one has a human hiding behind his pride, totally insecure, not-defined, contradictory, inconclusive, made of lies, a human who does not know what he wants and someone who you cannot trust anymore, ever. His single weapon is pride and now just a pale story once you enjoyed in. In his life traveling NOONE will play so many times again his role with the aim to give little and take a lot, but he could never take the most the valuable from him and for his huge pride he could not see more and further. He will be drown in his pride without cover.

Pride without cover, author Suzana Stojanović, 11.29.2006.

Na jednom od mnogih putovanja u poznato i nepoznato, u jednom od mnogih običnih i neobičnih dana dok tonete u polusan i razmišljate o ničemu i svačemu, iznenada upoznate nekog. Kažu da je prvi utisak najbitniji. Ima tu neke istine dok se ne pokaže drugačije. Privuče vas njegovo držanje, neskriveni ponos, nešto u njegovim rečima što vas ostavlja bez daha. Čini vam se da se trenutak pretvorio u večnost, ne želite da prestane. Nešto vas vuče u njegovom pogledu da idete dalje, da istražujete i da saznate što više...Ovde počinje priča o čoveku koji je promenio ime: nekada se zvao NEKO a sada se zove NIKO. U samo jednom trenu pomislite da ste rođeni pod srećnom zvezdom, da ste pronašli blago na dnu mora, nešto vredno što se sreće retko u životu. Njegov pogled, sjajan, tajanstven i nedokučiv, nagoveštavao je isto takav intelekt. Njegove reči, smirene i odmerene, u čudnom ali u isto vreme i logičnom sklopu tkale su priču koja se mogla čitati na više načina. Realnost, koja se jasno nazirala iz njegovog govora, bila je suprotna njegovom izrazu lica. Sigurnost i jasnost njegovog govora oslobađa vas svake sumnje, jednostavno verujete u to sto čujete. NEKO je imao svoj stav o svemu, svojim ponosnim držanjem pokazivao je da veruje u sebe i da stoji iza svega što kaže. I onda kada vas retko iznanadi nekim svojim gestom osećate se tako dobro, NEKO je mislio na vas. Da nije toliko NEKO u vašim očima to bi bilo nešto sasvim obično, svakodnevno. Taj predivan osećaj drži vas danima dok život, surov i nepredvidiv, ne krene nekim drugim tokom. U tom metežu samo hrabri, sigurni i snalažljivi idu dalje, slabi ostaju tamo gde jesu. NEKO, u senci svog ponosa ne želi da se bori i da ide dalje, njegov ponos bitniji je od svega, čak i od samog života. I vi jos uvek verujete da je NEKO NEKO, verujete da će njegovo vreme tek doći, nalazite milion razloga da ga opravdate u svojim očima samo da ne uprljate onaj prvi utisak. Slušate pažljivo njegove reči, upijate ih u svoju dušu, a onda polako slažete kockice, počinjete da upoznajete NEKOG do kraja. NEKO je počeo da postaje NIKO. Na trenutke mislite da je za sve kriv samo pogrešan sklop reči, ali ne možete da krivite dela, tako jasna i neuništiva. NEKO je postao NIKO. Pred sobom posmatrate čoveka koji se krio iza svog ponosa, sasvim nesigurnog, nedefinisanog, kontradiktornog, neubedljivog, satkanog od laži, čoveka koji ne zna sta želi i kome više nikada nećete moći da verujete. Jedino njegovo oružje je samo ponos i sada već bleda priča u kojoj ste nekada uživali. Na svom životnom putu NIKO će još mnogo puta da odigra svoju ulogu sa ciljem da malo pruža a mnogo uzima ali nikada neće moći da uzme ono najvrednije jer od sebe i svog ogromnog ponosa nije mogao da vidi više i dalje. Udaviće se u svom ponosu bez pokrića.

Ponos bez pokrića, autor Suzana Stojanović, 29.11.2006.

~ The dog that liked zebras ~

2009-10-18T15:05:00.001-07:00

This is a true story about a dog that liked zebras - an odd little Peggy that brought joy into my life. It all began on a rainy August night in 1991, now far gone...I enjoyed walking in silence along the street with the warm rain pouring down the buildings and sidewalks. That distant night wouldn't have been so special if there hadn't been for my little companion - a little dog that was following me in a shy manner. Her big bright eyes glowed in a semi-dark alley. I could see sadness in that abandoned little creature that was looking for a shelter on a late rainy night...That same night, little black and white Peggy and I started living under the same roof. There was something in her which made her different from other creatures. Even now, after all these years, I cannot say what it is. But the one thing I'm certain of is that she was immensely happy and that she trusted me completely. She could love truly and keep our home safe. She sensed each of my sorrows, each of my tears. She would gently put her small paw in my hand, lay her head on my shoulder to comfort me and keep me warm with her little body. When I was around, her joy was the same as it had been the first morning, every word I said she took in and that made her happy, she looked forward to each day that we spent together, to our long walks...Her life was filled with singing and dancing. Yes, Peggy loved to sing, especially when the violin was playing. And she loved dancing a lot. She even liked my books and wouldn't let anyone touch them. Perhaps she felt that they meant a lot to me, and perhaps she liked them because they brought harmony into our home. But most of all, Peggy loved zebras. She found some secret symbols in them that led her into another world; from one side of the street to the other. She was always in a hurry to see zebras during our long walks. They led her into the new adventures and encounters with different creatures. She looked for their traces in the snow and in the rain, and she was the only one that knew the meaning of black and white stripes. Peggy loved streets and zebras, she loved nature and freedom which she always carried inside of her. For me, seeing her happy, giving love and shelter to this sad and abandoned little creature, was enough. Peggy is not alive anymore; she rests in peace now in the shadow of an old quince tree. Not a day goes by without me remembering her. Every time I see zebras I remember the odd little Peggy, I hear rapid heartbeats of her restless heart, I see her in the river where we used to swim, I hear her singing and calling me. And I know that I would not be able to love any other little dog as much as I had loved Peggy. I've tried to paint her but with no success. People say that a painting is a story of thousands words but I think that no painting can depict Peggy. That's why I have written this story. Everyone who has ever loved a dog will know why I've written it once they've read it.

The dog that liked zebras, author Suzana Stojanović, 02.16.2007.

Ovo je istinita priča o jednom psu koji je voleo zebre, o maloj čudnoj Pegi koja je unela puno radosti u moj život. Sve je počelo jedne kišovite avgustovske noći sada već daleke 1991...Uživala sam u tihoj šetnji dugom ulicom, u toploj kiši koja se nežno slivala niz zgrade i trotoare. Ova daleka noć ne bi bila tako posebna da nisam imala malog pratioca. Za mnom je stidljivo išao mali pas. U polumračnoj ulici svetlele su njegove krupne sjajne oči. Osetila sam tugu u tom malom napuštenom biću koje je tražilo sklonište u kasnoj kišnoj noći. Te iste noći ja i mala crno-bela Pegi započele smo život pod istim krovom. Imala je nešto u sebi po čemu se razlikovala od drugih bića. I sada posle mnogo godina ne bih znala da vam kažem šta je to. Ono što sigurno znam jeste da je bila beskrajno srećna i da mi je potpuno verovala. Znala je iskreno da voli i da čuva naš dom. Osećala je svaku moju tugu, svaku moju suzu. Nežno bi spustila svoju malu šapu na moju ruku, položila glavu na moje rame i tešila me i grlila svojim malim telom. Radovala mi se isto svakog jutra kao da je prvi put, radovala se svakoj mojoj reči i upijala je u sebe, radovala se svakom našem danu, našim dugim šetnjama. Ispunjavala je svoj mali život pesmom i igrom. Da, Pegi je volela da peva. Naročito uz violinu. I volela je puno da igra. Volela je čak i moje knjige i nikome nije dozvoljavala da ih dira. Možda je osećala da mi puno znače, a možda ih je volela zbog toga što su unosile mir i tišinu u naš dom. Ipak, najviše od svega Pegi je volela zebre. U njima je pronašla neke tajne simbole koji su je vodili u drugi svet, sa jedne na drugu stranu ulice. U našim dugim šetnjama uvek je žurila ka zebrama. One su je vodile u nove avanture i susrete sa drugim bićima. Tražila je njihove obrise po snegu i po kiši i samo je ona znala značenje crno-belih traka. Pegi je volela ulice i zebre, volela je prostor i svoju slobodu koju je uvek nosila u sebi. Meni je bilo dovoljno što je ona srećna i što sam jednom malom tužnom napuštenom biću pružila ljubav i utočiste. Pegi više nije živa, sada mirno počiva u senci jedne stare dunje. Ne prođe ni dan a da je ne pronađem u svom srcu. Uvek kada vidim zebre setim se male čudne Pegi, čujem ubrzane otkucaje njenog nemirnog srca, vidim je u našoj reci gde smo se kupale danima, čujem je kako peva, kako me doziva. I znam da više nikada neću moći voleti nijednog malog psa kao što sam volela Pegi. Pokušala sam da je naslikam ali nije mi pošlo za rukom. Kažu da je slika priča sa hiljadu reči ali mislim da ne postoji slika koja može da opiše Pegi. Zato sam napisala ovu priču. Svako od vas koji je voleo psa kada je bude pročitao znaće zašto sam je napisala.
Pas koji je voleo zebre, autor Suzana Stojanović, 16.02.2007.

~ A strange bride ~

2009-10-18T15:04:00.000-07:00

Great works last long, they make us observe and study them as if it was our first time. We often ask ourselves: Why do we return to them? Who are the people who can create something so strong? I've been thinking for quite a long time about one movie made in 1994. It's a special movie, not only because of great names like Anthony Hopkins and Brad Pitt. The thing I always remember when I think about "Legends of the fall" is the soothing voice of One Stab and the words I’ve returned to so many times: "Some people hear their own inner voices with great clearness and they live by what they hear. Such people become crazy or they become legends..." A friend of mine has recently told me that one should sometimes listen to their inner voices. The word "sometimes" is the right word. Maybe we should only "sometimes" set off into uncertainty - perhaps at times when we deeply believe in something or when we have nothing to lose, and perhaps being too brave isn't a very good thing. Some people simply can't run away from their "sometimes" and from the past, they are constantly coming back to it and waste their whole life. Milos Crnjanski observed this in a comletely specific way: "The past represents a terrible, gloomy abyss; whatever goes into that darkness does not exist anymore and have never existed..." In that darkness we meet various people, different destinies. We occasionally remember some of them and some we completely forget. This is a story about a woman whom many people forgot a long time ago, a story about a tragic destiny and an insignificant human life which no one didn’t care for. I was a child when I saw her for the last time but that image remained engraved into my memory. Maybe I remember her because she was strange, because she dressed and acted strangely and maybe because she was called "The strange bride". She was always going the same way at the same time. She was always dressed the same and carried the same purse. Even now, after so many years, I remember each detail of her clothes, her white scarf and a dirty white coat, dirty sandals and tights. I remember her red face and big eyes which hid from others. She was always quiet. Children threw rocks at her and chased her. The older ones - those who got used to her appearance a long time ago, didn’t pay attention. I asked many people what happened to her but I didn’t get the answer. Now, after so many years, I’ve started searching for the data about her destiny and found not so many of them. "The strange bride" used to be a beautiful girl. Poverty made her seek her fortune and she found herself working as a laundress for a wealthy lawyer. There she fell in love for the first time... Her own brother raped her on her wedding day. Her trauma couldn’t come to an end. Embarrassed and humiliated, she ran away from everybody. A greater mental crisis came with years, she turned into a wandering ghost, she lived in the world which was only hers. And then she disappeared quietly, taking with her the unknown world she created, all of her sorrow and the life which was hell. A Jewish proverb says that those who abandon themselves aren’t worthy of salvation. Is it so?
A strange bride, author Suzana Stojanović, 07.11.2008.

Velika dela traju dugo, zovu nas da ih posmatramo i proučavamo kao da je prvi put. Često sebi postavljamo pitanja: Zašto im se vraćamo? Ko su ljudi koji mogu da stvore nešto toliko jako? Dugo sam razmišljala o jednom filmu, nastalom sada već daleke 1994. To jeste poseban film, ne samo zbog velikih imena poput Entoni Hopkins i Bred Pit. Ono čega se ja uvek sećam kada pomislim na "Legende o strasti" jeste smirujući glas One Stab i reči kojima sam se mnogo puta vraćala..."Neki ljudi čuju svoje unutrašnje glasove i žive po onome što čuju. Takvi ljudi postaju ludi ili postaju legende..." Moj prijatelj nedavno mi je rekao da čovek ponekad treba da posluša svoje unutrašnje glasove. Ono "ponekad" je veoma precizno rečeno. Možda samo "ponekad" treba poći u neizvesnost - možda onda kada duboko verujemo u nešto ili kada nemamo šta da izgubimo, a možda nije dobro biti previše hrabar. Neki ljudi jednostavno ne mogu da pobegnu od svog "ponekad" i od prošlosti, stalno joj se vraćaju i propuste ceo život. Miloš Crnjanski posmatrao je ovo na jedan sasvim poseban način: "Prošlost je grozan, mutan bezdan; što u taj sumrak ode, ne postoji više i nije nikad postojalo..." U tom sumraku srećemo razne ljude, razne sudbine. Nekih se povremeno setimo, a neke potpuno zaboravimo. Ovo je priča o jednoj ženi koju su mnogi već odavno zaboravili, priča o jednoj tragičnoj sudbini i malom ljudskom životu koji nikome nije bio bitan. Bila sam dete kada sam je poslednji put videla, ali ta slika ostala je urezana u mom sećanju. Možda je se sećam zato što je bila čudna, zato što se čudno ponašala i odevala, a možda samo zbog toga što su je zvali "Čudna nevesta". Uvek je išla istim putem i u isto vreme. Uvek je bila isto obučena i nosila istu tašnu. Čak i sada posle mnogo godina sećam se svakog detalja te odeće, njene bele marame i uprljanog belog mantila, uprljanih sandala i debelih čarapa. Sećam se njenog crvenog lica i ogromnih očiju koje su se krile od pogleda. Uvek je bila tiha. Deca su je gađala kamenicama i jurila. Stariji, već odavno naviknuti na njenu pojavu, nisu obraćali pažnju. Mnoge ljude pitala sam šta joj se dogodilo, ali nikada nisam dobila odgovor. Sada, posle mnogo godina ponovo sam krenula u potragu za njenom sudbinom i naišla na neke oskudne podatke. "Čudna nevesta" nekada je bila lepa devojka. Siromaštvo je nateralo da krene trbuhom za kruhom i tako se obrela u domu bogate advokatice radeći kao pralja. U tom domu se i prvi put zaljubila... Rođeni brat silovao je uoči svadbenog veselja. Njenim traumama nije bilo kraja. Osramoćena i ponižena, pobegla je od svih. Sa godinama je imala sve veću duševnu krizu, pretvorila se u duha koji luta, živela je u svetu koji je bio samo njen. A onda je tiho nestala a sa njom i njen nepoznati svet, sve njene tuge i pakao od života. Jedna jevrejska poslovica kaže da ko sam sebe napusti nije dostojan spasenja. Da li?
Čudna nevesta, autor Suzana Stojanović, 11.07.2008.

~ The Prince and The Beggar ~

2009-10-18T12:31:00.000-07:00

Leo Tolstoy once said that all the happy families resemble one another and that each of them is miserable in its own way. This is a tale of a royal family. As in every family, the happiest are the days when babies are born. Bells were heard in the kingdom that day; a big celebration, not yet seen, was about to take place. The soft crying of the children was heard in the royal chambers. The Queen was smiling gently and the King was overwhelmed by feelings of happiness because of his two heirs. Beautiful gold coins, very carefully designed for that day, glittered beside their little heads. The King even opened the door of the dungeon, thinking that it was the right way to show his gratitude to God for being blessed with two sons. Everybody was happy, even the court beasts roared, contributing to the general celebratory mood that had been created. The celebration went on for days...until one morning, everything suddenly became still. In the royal chambers only the cry of one of the children was heard. The other Prince disappeared without a trace. The King alerted the entire army; everyone was in search of the Prince like mad, but with no success. As the time went by, the little Prince grew up and the King, living in fear that he might lose him too, treasured him like the apple of his eye. Even though the Prince had everything he wished for at the court, he was lonely and miserable. He would sadly stand beside the window for days and watch the mountains in the distance. He dreamt of other people, other kingdoms. He even fell in love with a beautiful Princess; yet, he was miserable because he could offer her nothing besides his sadness and an enormous wealth. The King, seeing his son's grief, decided to offer a big reward to the one who could make him happy. Many people from other kingdoms gathered. The Prince was awaiting eagerly for this day, hoping his life would change at last. And just when everyone thought that nothing could be done, a quiet voice was heard: "Your Royal Highness, would you like to change places? Maybe this new experience will change your life." A beggar, in rags, stood humbly in front of the Prince and watched him constantly. - And who are you? - the Prince asked. - I'm a beggar, master - he answered. The Prince found this idea so interesting that he accepted it. He put on the beggar's clothes and, at the break of dawn went into the unknown. Thus, the Prince became the beggar and the beggar became the Prince, and both of them began wholly new lives. The Prince wandered around for days and nights, begging for some food. At first, his best friends were stray dogs but after a while he started meeting other beggars who told him different stories which were mostly half-true. It was quite a new world in which hunger and coldness prevailed and the Prince felt that, apart from everything, sadness was slowly fading away from his heart. He had some new desires that he hadn't been aware of before. He was fighting for his own life and survival. Having discovered that he possessed new abilities, he felt happier. He had his freedom, he made decisions about his life on his own, and that seemed very interesting to him. At the same time, the beggar enjoyed the benefit of the court; he even made the land of the kingdom larger. Leading the life of a beggar taught him not only to make something out of nothing, but also that wisdom is the greatest virtue of all. The King and the Queen loved him as their own son. One day, a beautiful Princess, who was once loved by the Prince, came to the court and fell in love with the beggar. Upon seeing her, the beggar was stunned by her remarkable beauty...and fell in love at once. He told her about various adventures from his life until, one day, he decided to reveal his greatest secret to her. - I have something to show you - he said, and pulled out a beautiful, wrapped gold coin. - The man on his death bed, who took care of me when I was little, left me this, saying that I shouldn't show it to anyone; the truth will come out when the time is right. The Princess immediately told her nanny everything and soon the Queen herself heard the story which helped her find her missing son after so many years. The bells were heard in the kingdom again, announcing the wedding, and the King decided to be righteous; he looked at the mountains in the distance, waiting for the Prince. During that time, the Prince had many adventures while wandering around the world until one day he realized that he wanted to come home. He dreamt of his Princess, of his kingdom...Does this tale have a happy ending? You decide. Someone once told me that everybody should know when to stop. This is the right moment, isn't it?
The Prince and The Beggar, author Suzana Stojanović, 02.18.2007.

Lav Tolstoj je rekao da sve srećne porodice liče jedna na drugu a da je svaka nesrećna na svoj način. Ovo je priča o jednoj kraljevskoj porodici. Kao i u svakoj porodici najsrećniji su oni dani kada na svet dolaze nova bića. Toga dana u kraljevini zvonila su zvona, pripremalo se veliko nezapamćeno slavlje. U kraljevskim odajama začuo se tihi plač Kraljevića. Kraljica se blago osmehivala a Kralj nije znao šta da radi od sreće, dobio je dva naslednika. Predivni kovani zlatnici, veoma brižno rađeni za taj dan treperili su kraj njihovih majušnih glava. Kralj je čak otvorio i vrata tamnice, misleći da će se na taj način odužiti Bogu što ga je tako bogato darivao. I svi su se radovali, čak su i dvorske zveri urlale i na svoj način dale doprinos opštem metežu koji je nastao. Slavlje je trajalo danima...a onda jednoga jutra sve je iznenada utihnulo. U kraljevskim odajama čuo se plač samo jednog Kraljevića. Drugi je nestao bez traga. Kralj je digao na noge celu vojsku, svi su jurili kao pomahnitali u potrazi za Kraljevićem ali bez uspeha. Prolazile su godine, mali Kraljević je rastao, a Kralj, živeći u strahu da i njega ne izgubi, čuvao ga je kao malo vode na dlanu. Kraljević je na dvoru imao sve što se poželeti može ali je bio nesrećan u svojoj samoći. Danima je tužno stajao kraj prozora i posmatrao planine koje su se nazirale u daljini. Maštao je o drugim ljudima, o drugim kraljevstvima. Čak se i zaljubio u jednu prelepu Princezu ali je opet bio nesrećan jer ništa nije imao da joj pruži osim svoje tuge i ogromnog bogatstva. Kralj, videvši duboku nesreću na licu svog sina odluči da ponudi veliku nagradu onome ko uspe da ga usreći. Okupiše se mnogi ljudi iz raznih drugih kraljevina. Kraljević je sa nestrpljenjem čekao ovaj dan, nadajući se da će se njegov život napokon promeniti. I onda kada su svi mislili da je sve izgubljeno, začu se jedan tihi glas: "Vaše Visočanstvo, da li biste hteli da se menjamo? Možda bi ovo novo iskustvo promenilo vaš život." Prosjak, zavijen u krpe, stajao je skrušeno pred Kraljevićem i netremice ga posmatrao. - A ko si ti? - upita Kraljević. - Ja sam prosjak gospodaru - odgovori ovaj. Kraljeviću se ova ideja učini veoma interesantnom i on pristade. Prerušio se u prosjaka i već u ranu zoru krenuo na put u neizvesnost. I tako Kraljević postade prosjak a prosjak Kraljević i svako od njih započe sasvim novi život. Kraljević je lutao danima i noćima proseći za koru hleba. U početku mu najbolji prijatelji bejahu očerupani i gladni psi a onda je polako počeo da upoznaje druge prosjake koji su mu pričali razne priče, uglavnom poluistinite. Bio je to sasvim novi svet u kome su carovali glad i hladnoća, a Kraljević je osetio da i pored svega što ga je snašlo, tuga polako nestaje iz njegovog srca. U njemu su se rodile neke nove želje za koje nije ni znao da postoje. Borio se za sopstveni život i opstanak. Otkrio je neke svoje nove sposobnosti i počeo je da postaje srećan. Imao je svoju slobodu, sam je odlučivao o svom životu i to mu se učinilo veoma interesantnim. Za to vreme prosjak je uživao u blagodetima dvora, čak je i proširio kraljevstvo. Njegov prosjački život naučio ga je da od ničega stvori mnogo, da je mudrost najveća vrlina. Kralj i Kraljica zavoleli su ga kao rodjenog sina. Jednoga dana prelepa Princeza, koju je nekada voleo Kraljević, dođe na njihov dvor i zaljubi se u prosjaka. Prosjak, kada je ugleda, umalo se ne sruši pred njenom raskošnom lepotom...i rodi se ljubav. Pričao joj je svakojake dogodovštine iz svog života i jednoga dana odluči da joj otkrije svoju najveću tajnu. - Želim nešto da ti pokažem - reče on i iz zamotuljka izvuče predivan kovani zlatnik. - Ovo mi je ostavio čovek na samrti koji me čuvao kada sam bio mali i rekao mi da nikome ne pokazujem, pokazaće se samo kada za to dođe vreme. Princeza to odmah ispriča svojoj dadilji i tako ubrzo priča dođe i do Kraljice koja je posle mnogo godina pronašla svog nestalog sina. I ponovo su u kraljevini zvonila zvona, najavljivalo se venčanje, a Kralj je odlučio da bude pravedan i dugo je posmatrao planine u daljini čekajuci svog Kraljevića. Za to vreme Kraljević je lutao po svetu, prošao je razne zgode i nezgode i jednoga dana poželeo da se vrati kući. Maštao je o svojoj Princezi, o svom kraljevstvu... Da li ova priča ima srećan kraj? O tome vi odlučite. Neko mi je jednom prilikom rekao da svako treba da zna kada treba da stane. Ovo je pravi trenutak zar ne?
Kraljević i prosjak, autor Suzana Stojanović, 18.02.2007.

~ Sadness in the eyes ~

2009-10-18T11:57:00.000-07:00

An old saying says that we find out who we are by what we do, as we find out what we deserve by what makes us suffer. Each man is a star for itself, everything happens always and never and each human being is a sanctity. At the moment of man's death the whole treasure dies with him and without people, their experience, destinies and events there's no true history of one civilisation, one nation. History is dead and empty without them. Empty is also the truth about the complete and definite loss of trace in time that someone has ever existed somewhere, whether or not his life was interesting, fullfilled, troubled. With his death the traces of man's soul as well as his unfullfilled wishes and imagination disappear. A small man is neglected, doomed to eternal anonymity and absolute disappearance in time. He lives only as far as there are living beings who remember him. Maybe there was so much he wanted to ask, to say. His questions remained forever trapped on the roads of uncertainty, at the door of hell, in dark and long labyrinths. His words remained to speak silently in his endlessly sad eyes. If life is all that is good, then why is it being taken from us? If it is all that is bad, why is it being given to us? It is said that a man's life strength is measured by his ability to forget. Man remembers if he wants to but he forgets if he can. Maybe we'll remember the freedom, love and the rainbow after our rain. We'll never forget who we are and where our grave-yards are. We'll never forget the bottom we have touched innumerable times, the shadows on our roofs and the song of the devil that is still ringing in our territory. Even during our sleep we hear it calling us constantly. Again, it looks for tears and fear in our eyes to confirm its power, but there are no more tears. Fears have been carried away by its last ugly birds. Only the tired eyes and sadness, endless sadness remained. In just one sentence Ivo Andrić described all the cruelty of our little lives: "Only pain lifts man up to the enormous, endless love towards people." Is it so? Is there a place for a soul among the stars? Is there a clean, high place where the horror of the Earth doesn't reach? In life, there's a line which once we cross, there's no turning back. Beyond it, hope dies last. Beyond it, we don't look for salvation and shelters anymore, we don't sail or sink, we don't wait for the tide. Beyond it, there are no more fears and expectations. Only pain, memories and endless sadness remain in the eyes and only one question: WHY?

Sadness in the eyes, author Suzana Stojanović, 01.12.2008.

Jedna stara mudrost kaže da po onome što činimo saznajemo ko smo, kao što po onom zbog čega patimo saznajemo šta zaslužujemo. Svaki je čovek zvezda za sebe, sve se događa uvek i nikad i svako je ljudsko stvorenje svetinja. U trenutku čovekove smrti sa njim umire čitavo jedno bogatstvo, a bez ljudi, njihovih doživljaja, sudbina i događaja, nema prave istorije jedne civilizacije, jednog naroda. Istorija je bez njih mrtva, prazna. Prazna je i istina o potpunom i definitivnom gubljenju traga u vremenu da je neko ikad i igde postojao, bez obzira da li mu je život bio zanimljiv, ispunjen, buran ili ne. Sa njegovom smrću nestaju tragovi njegove duše, neispunjene želje, maštanja. Mali je čovek zapostavljen, osuđen na večnu anonimnost i apsolutno nestajanje u vremenu. On živi samo dotle dok ima živih koji ga se sećaju. Možda je hteo mnogo toga da pita, da kaže. Njegova pitanja ostala su zauvek zarobljena na putevima neizvesnosti, na vratima pakla, u mračnim i dugim lavirintima. Njegove reči ostale su nemo da govore u njegovim beskrajno tužnim očima. Ako je život dobro, zašto nam ga oduzimaju? Ako je zlo, zašto nam je dat? Kažu da se životna snaga jednog čoveka meri njegovom sposobnošću zaboravljanja. Čovek pamti ako hoće, a zaboravlja ako može. Možda ćemo pamtiti slobodu, ljubav i dugu posle naših kiša. Nikada nećemo zaboraviti ko smo i gde su naša groblja. Nikada nećemo zaboraviti dno koje smo bezbroj puta dotakli, senke na našim krovovima i pesmu đavola koja još uvek odzvanja na našim prostorima. Čujemo je i dok spavamo kako nas uporno doziva. Ponovo traži suze i strah u našim očima da potvrdi svoju moć, ali suza više nema. Strahove su odnele njene poslednje ružne ptice. Ostale su samo umorne oči i tuga, beskrajna tuga. U samo jednoj rečenici Ivo Andrić prikazao je svu surovost naših malih života: "Bol jedini podiže čoveka do široke, neizmerne ljubavi prema ljudima." Da li? Da li ima mesta duši nad zvezdama? Da li postoji čisto visoko mesto gde ne dopiru strahote zemlje? U životu postoji linija koju kada pređemo više nema povratka. Iza nje umire poslednja nada. Iza nje više ne tražimo spas i skloništa, ne jedrimo i ne tonemo, ne čekamo plimu. Iza nje više nema strahova i iščekivanja. Ostaju samo bol, sećanja, beskrajna tuga u očima i jedno jedino pitanje: ZAŠTO?

Tuga u očima, autor Suzana Stojanović, 12.01.2008.

~ Books ~

2009-10-17T07:15:00.005-07:00

STRUKTURA I ZNAČENJE POGRANIČNIH PRIPOVEDAKA ILIJE VUKIĆEVIĆA 2010.

RECENZIJA: Rukopis knjige Struktura i značenje pograničnih pripovedaka Ilije Vukićevića ima četiri celine. Prva celina obuhvata književno-teorijsko određenje realizma kao stilske formacije; realizam u srpskoj književnosti i mesto Ilije Vukićevića u srpskom realizmu.
U drugom delu knjige dat je odnos književnog kritičara Jovana Skerlića prema književnom stvaranju Ilije Vukićevića. Tu su biografski i bibliografski podaci o piscu, zatim književni uticaj i komparativne analize pripovedaka sa graničarskom tematikom, kao i Ilija Vukićević i pisci sa Kosova i iz Stare Srbije. Naročito se autorka knjige zadržala na Iliji Vukićeviću kao preteči Bore Stankovića i Radoja Domanovića. To je učinila, verovatno, zbog toga što se o ovom piscu, koji je živeo i izvesno vreme radio u Vranju, malo zna.
Treći deo knjige obuhvata prikaz pripovedaka iz graničarskog života: Graničari, Škrbo i Fejzula, Miško Ubojica, Pod suncem, Ljuta rana. Istaknuta je tematika ovih pripovedaka, naročito su likovi dobro prikazani, kompozicija, stilsko-izražajna sredstva i jezik, kao i poruke i ideje.
Suzana Stojanović je kroz analizu navedenih pripovedaka pokazala da su graničarske pripovetke Ilije Vukićevića najbolje i da otkrivaju nove tematske sadržaje u srpskoj prozi. Po Dragiši Živkoviću, sve te pripovetke imaju antologijsku vrednost. U njima pisac pronalazi svoj književni put i slika život graničara na novoj granici prema Turskoj, južno od Vranja, u vremenu od 1890. do 1896.
U ovim pripovetkama naročito je ukazano na zanimljiv kraj, surov planinski i gorštacki ambijent, neobične ljude, često vrlo čudne i plahovite. Autorka ističe da je pisac s puno simpatija govorio o tim ljudima, i to duboko zalazeći u njihovu dušu. Istaknuto je da pisac uspešno slika prirodu, ali je i dobro razume i da su graničarske pripovetke Ilije Vukićevića lokalno obojene, što nije slučaj sa njegovim ranijim pripovetkama iz seoskog i palanačkog života.
Ovaj deo knjige, između ostalog, ukazuje na sličan stilski postupak u građenju pripovedaka, da u njima ima, ne samo neobičnih likova, već i dramatičnih sukoba i da im je radnja ubrzana. Takođe je istaknuto da su borci u pripovetkama patrijarhalni i čestiti ljudi, ali ih mnogo puta nagon uvodi u krvave sukobe, pa čast plaćaju životom. Njihova ljubav je čudna, ubilačka, surova, nagonska. Zbog tih razloga, za razliku od Glišića, Lazarevića, Matavulja, kako ističe autorka, pripovetke Ilije Vukićevića deluju kao uzbudljive slike egzotičnih predela i njima započinje jedna nova proza u srpskoj književnosti u poslednjoj deceniji 19. veka. Sve ove konstatacije pokazane su kroz detaljnu analizu pet navedenih pripovedaka iz graničarskog života.
Autorka je pokazala da se vrlo umešno služila odabranom primarnom, sekundarnom i posebnom literaturom. Međutim, u rukopisu navedene knjige do izražaja je došlo njeno samostalno proučavanje pograničnih pripovedaka Ilije Vukićevića, kao i njegovog celokupnog dela. To se naročito vidi sa stranica analiziranih pripovedaka.
U četvrtom delu knjige data su zaključna razmatranja i uopštavanja o izboru tematike, građenju likova, o stilskim postupcima i sredstvima, mestu Ilije Vukićevića u srpskoj književnosti, njegovoj aktuelnosti danas. Tu autorka zaključuje:

Novim načinom stvaranja ovaj pisac je nagovestio i novu generaciju pisaca i njihove nove orjentacije u književnosti: Matavulja, Boru Stankovića, Radoja Domanovića. On zaslužuje posebno mesto u istoriji naše književnosti. Iako njegove graničarske pripovetke dočaravaju zvuk davnih vremena, one su vrlo aktuelne i danas, jer se istorija, kao po nekom pravilu ponavlja, pa evo opet velikih muka sa Arnautima.

(Prof. dr Stana Smiljković, Prof. Slavka Stojanović)

~ The Magical World of Horses ~

2009-10-17T07:15:00.001-07:00

The King 2011.
Original oil on canvas painting 59x42 cm
Series The Magical World of Horses

» Work in progress » Detail

Mirror 2010.
Original oil on canvas painting 27x30 cm
Series The Magical World of Horses

» Detail

Friendship 2009.
Original oil on canvas painting 42x30 cm
Series The Magical World of Horses

» Detail

Keeyana 2008.
Original pencil drawing 30x24 cm
Series The Magical World of Horses

My world 2008.
Original pencil drawing 33x41 cm
Series The Magical World of Horses

Connection 2008.
Original pencil drawing 30x24 cm
Series The Magical World of Horses

Silence 2007.
Original oil on canvas painting 27x39 cm
Series The Magical World of Horses

Fairies 2007.

Original pencil drawing 29x32 cm
Series The Magical World of Horses

The call 2007.

Original pencil drawing 50x35 cm
Series The Magical World of Horses

In clouds 2007.

Original pencil drawing 34x36 cm
Series The Magical World of Horses

Heaven riders 2006.
Original oil on canvas painting 35x55 cm
Series The Magical World of Horses

» Detail

Flame 2006.
Original pastel drawing 35x34 cm
Series The Magical World of Horses

Friends 2006.

Original pencil drawing 41x20 cm
Series The Magical World of Horses

My way 2006.
Original pencil drawing 40x29 cm
Series The Magical World of Horses

Winner 2005.
Original oil on canvas painting 40x56 cm
Series The Magical World of Horses

» Detail

Dream 2003.
Original oil on canvas painting 50x40 cm
Series The Magical World of Horses

Princess 2003.

Original oil on canvas painting 50x40 cm
Series The Magical World of Horses

» Detail

Awakening 2002.

Original oil on canvas painting 24x30 cm
Series The Magical World of Horses

Whirlwind 2002.
Original oil on canvas painting 24x30 cm
Series The Magical World of Horses

Blue blood 2002.

Original oil on canvas painting 24x30 cm
Series The Magical World of Horses

۞

▪ The old sacred books say that the Almighty made a horse out of a gust of wind. They say that all the treasure of the world is in between the horse's eyes. Might and pride are within its mane. It will fly without wings and win without a sword...

▪ In the course of history, horses have been faithful companions to people and contributed to the development of civilization. Their divine beauty appeared in many paintings throughout the world. Horses have always been and will stay an inexhaustible source of inspiration to many artists. I hope that my work would give at least a small contribution to cherishing the value and beauty of this thoroughbred animal.
▪ I"ve been caring memories on horses from my earliest childhood. My great grand-father kept horses. I was so little and they were so big. The thing that left one unique and memorable trace is the glance in their eyes and deep look that kept following me all my life. Horses were and have remained for me one great secret... Even then I realized that horse motive would haunt me forever. There has not been a single painting where one could not feel their presence. I saw horses everywhere, in our past, present and future, in fairy tales, games, battles, in forgotten wildness... I wanted to paint many paintings with horses but I did not feel enough ready to stand up to that kind of great temptation. Horse was for me something supreme and so hard to be reachable. It is not enough only to transfer its beauty to the painting canvas or cardboard. With the age of 19 I stopped with painting. The period of perception came, life experience period, new knowledge and new studiousness, experiments and wandering. From one day to another, from one year to another, I was feeling more and more strength and energy that was accumulating in me and it was only the matter of the day when that would come out of me...and it happened. After full 13 years of pause my first painting was a horse portrait. I felt that a horse is the only motive through which I could present myself. Horses inflicted not only with their beauty but also with the things that they have been caring deep down in themselves for centuries. All their pride, dignity, intelligence reflect in their eyes. Their looks haunt, remind, disturb and force us to think. When you once bind yourself to their looks it is very hard to separate from that. It follows you everywhere. I like horses, especially Arabians. It is very hard to catch the moment when they want actually to say something. They speak with their moves and looks. Horses are my eternal inspiration: always beautiful, always different and always their own - they bind centuries and civilizations, in their eyes they carry the records of battles, games, loves and fairy tales. This is the way the series "The Magical World of Horses" began to appear... Thousands of hours of inexhaustible work. I paint in the way I feel, I paint with heart. It is the only way to fell complete. It all happens instinctively or it does not happen at all. Painting is not the matter of learning. You either are born with it or not, it comes out of you or doesn't. I always place my paintings before me. They speak, I don't. Every painting is one separate story, one single moment of my life and carries in itself those few words we are always missing to describe in complete certain appearance, creature, feeling... Painting is one beautiful, unexplained world, felt differently by each artist and it is very hard to share it with anyone. There I go alone and that is my world, my Empire, my freedom and my wideness...
Says Suzana Stojanović, an artist.

▪ In mysterious world of painting portraits of horses have always been a royal challenge. These portraits capture a rich palette of moods of these pets with slender legs, they catch what the greatest experts in horses' soul suspect and feel, but very often cannot present this knowledge...The whole eternity made of rare precious stones is reflected in horses' eyes. Their eyes reflect a secret world, which is galloping right beside our everyday world of oblivion - the world that is close to all of us, but unclear just as the thud of horses' hooves in the blue distance of the twilight...
▪ George Stubbs, who supported himself by painting the portraits of race-horses (and sometimes painted also their owners), developed one new way of painting of horses with strong feeling of magnificence and cruelty of nature. While spending his time in North Africa he heard the story how a horse killed by a lion. He heard this story from eye witnesses of this event. This scenery flamed the artist's imagination and created a painting called "A Horse attacked by a Lion". The artist emotionally identified with the horse and with his true whiteness, beauty and strengths that dramatically and symbolically stands off unearthly cliffs of lion's dwelling. Heavy stormy clouds, rolling in the sky, strengthen this doomed atmosphere. The unfortunate horse, equally frightened by this storm that is approaching, seems helpless before the destructive strength of nature. Horse showed in the painting provokes different feelings, fusion of worship and horror. Stubbs longs to subscribe human features and feelings to horses.

~ Hyperrealism ~

2009-10-17T07:14:00.007-07:00

Magnificently are real the horses painted by Suzana Stojanović. Magnificent is not for the fact that, in the paintings painted in realistic and hyperrealistic style one can easily notice the third dimension, but for the warmth that springs out from every painting - from the eyes of those noble four-legged animals. The grandeur in their eyes is the focus of everything.
Suzana`s skills to mark even the most hidden details leads the observers into dilemma whether there is a painting or a photography. Her preoccupation are horses - beautiful, natural and intelligent. Even as a child she had a desire to have her own horses, but all this remained only an imagination and a dream that did not come true. This is the reason now why she makes them alive in the paintings - the paintings that show how big is her love for them. Suzana expresses herself through realism and hyperrealism because she thinks that is it the only way to make alive the subject of painter interest on the cardboard or painting canvas.
Many of individual exhibitions has marked Suzana`s return to painting scene. The exhibitions were all around the country: Belgrade (Geca Kon Gallery), Vranje (Public University Gallery), Vladičin Han (Cultural Centre Gallery), Pančevo, Niš. The exhibition in Vranje was visited by between 4 and 5 thousand people. With her exhibitions Suzana gifted her public one magical world of horses, the world of nature and beauty that was forgotten a little, and that was presented in two different techniques: pastel and oil on canvas painting. Her exhibitions have been visited by thousands of people. The book of impressions is full of strong expressions. It is not unusual that people loose their breath. All of them are amazed and simply stoned when standing before her paintings.
Suzana Stojanović stopped the scenes of her hyperrealistic way of painting in the right moment: in the moment that allows us to see pride, strength, beauty, mildness, defiance and prudence. The world of horses is heavenly part of the mankind. God was merciful and gifted us with this kind of beauty.
Suzana`s paintings are one unique horse psychology encyclopedia. Within the lively frames one rich palette of the moods of slim-legged pets is caught, the things that the biggest experts of horse soul can foresee and also feel but often cannot express that knowledge. Suzana`s painting can do that. As if her horses were speaking about their inner, secret world that gallops by our world of everyday life and forgetness - familiar to all of us, but unclear as a clatter of many horse feet, in the nightfall into blue distance...

▪ Denis Peterson, hyperrealist painter, dA Journal, 2007.

By way of introduction, we were recently graced with the new arrival of a well known and accomplished artist - Suzana Stojanović.
Suzana is someone I have known outside these pages as a friend and as a truly masterful hyperrealist painter. Her beautiful work can at times be extreme, and it is always compelling.
I recommend that you take the time to get to know her and her captivating work, as she has much to share with all of us.
Just click on a painting to connect... and send her a special hello from me!
Suzana is someone I got to know about a year ago and at that time I was drawn into her stunning work. Not unlike some of the masters you and I have discussed, Suzana's paintings just keep on bringing you back for more, not only on the basis of technical merit; they demonstrate a driving and robust visual declaration of her love for her subjects. It is at once a celebration of those living subjects that comes through all of her work with consistent brilliance and passion.
Suzana is in a league of her own.
Her sensitive and compelling work is an admirable reflection of her as a person.
You are very welcome. I look forward to multiple galleries on dA, as all of her work will certainly go into one of mine if that happens...
From my perspective, Suzana's work is as good as it gets.
And you will notice that her work, all of it, shares a common thread of humanity, passion and dignity...the veritable mark of a true artist.
She is outstanding, not only in her brilliant ability to render but her compositional and lighting techniques drive the point home that she cares deeply about her subjects.

Attributive "realistic" is a word linking the artists and writers longing to build new connection between work of art and reality. In the middle of 19th century three directions of realism appeared: landscape realism - school of Barbizon in France, socialistic and academic realism. Painters are going back to folk themes, separated from painting scene for the long time. Courbet painting "The Stone Breakers" marks the beginning of realism. The work of Gustave Courbet lies upon one strict respect of world reality that surrounds the artists. The master of realism declares himself that he wants to represent "real and existing things"...
Complete obedience to "realistic" frequently is used in the case of certain artists like Rosa Bonheur, Jules Breton, Jules Bastien-Lepage, Leon Lhermitte, Hungarian Mihaly Munkacsi is used in photographic way. In the second half of 19th century the whole one part of western arts lives in realism - German painters: Adolf von Menzel, Wilhelm Leibl, Belgium: Constantin Meunier (sculptor and painter), American: Winslow Homer, Thomas Eakins, in England: Ford Madox Brown, in Russia: Iliya Repin and Vasily Perov...
Realism is present and keeps on in 20th century. Photographic precise hyperrealism (photorealism) appears in USA in the end of the `60s that was announced by Edward Hopper and Charles Sheeler. Hyperrealism (photorealism) continues with realistic tradition of Edward Hopper and other 20th century American painters. The most famous representatives of this stream in plastic arts, characterized by almost photographic interpretation of the seen matter are: Malcolm Morley with his huge postcards, Richard Estes with urban shop-windows, Robert Cottingham with light boards, Don Eddy and Ralph Goings with cars, Chuck Close with exquisite magnified photos with personal id regulations.

~ Biography ~

2009-10-17T07:09:00.001-07:00

Artist Suzana Stojanović Suza was born in Vranje, a small town in southern Serbia, on April 18, 1969. She comes from a family of intellectuals - her mother does writing and, apart from a few works of fiction, many of her textbooks on language and literature have been published. Being surrounded with books from the earliest days of her life, Suzana started reading and painting when she was four. The early period of her artistic work lasted till 1988. During that period, she tried her skill at different fields and left behind hundreds of art works. She studied painting skills of the Old Masters and different techniques (pencil on paper, watercolour, pastel, oil on canvas, mosaic, encaustics, iconography, sculpture and engraving). She participated in many group exhibitions and art colonies as well. Apart from being the winner of numerous prestige awards, she has also won wide social and international recognition for her artistic work. She finished High school of mathematics and technical science and participated in numerous maths, physics and literature competitions, achieving outstanding results. She thoroughly studied astronomy and acquired enviable knowledge in this field. The same year she finished High school of mathematics and technical science, Suzana also finished High school of music, specializing in the violin. She participated in many music contests, festivals and music ceremonies. She composed her first composition when she was fifteen years old.

Having finished High school of music, she studied literature and continued perfecting playing the piano. She spent thousands of hours listening to Mozart, Bach and Beethoven and reading and studying the works of the world's most famous writers. However, painting has always been her greatest love. Suzana's return into the art scene after thirteen years was marked by "The Magical World of Horses" series in 2001. Many of her paintings are to be found in private collections in Serbia, the USA, Italy, Switzerland, Denmark, Macedonia, Montenegro, Croatia and Slovenia. Presently, Suzana lives and works in Niš, paints horses and thoroughly studies the horse anatomy; she writes short stories and also working on a book about art called "Following the steps of the Old Masters", in which she describes in detail not only her long-lasting experience, experiments and various techniques, but also doing drawings and painting paintings. She dedicates a story to each of her paintings, and her dream is to compose again some day and make animated films...

EXHIBITIONS:
▪ 2003 - Solo exhibition at "SKUT" Gallery, Niš, Serbia
▪ 2002 - Solo exhibition at "Geca Kon" Gallery, Belgrade, Serbia
▪ 2002 - Solo exhibition at Gallery of Centre of Culture, Vladičin Han, Serbia
▪ 2002 - Solo exhibition at Gallery of National University, Vranje, Serbia
▪ 2001 - Solo exhibition at "Madam" Gallery, Pančevo, Serbia

PUBLIC COLLECTIONS:
▪ Madam Gallery, Pančevo, Serbia

Umetnica Suzana Stojanović Suza rođena je 18. aprila 1969. godine u Vranju, malom gradu na jugu Srbije. Potiče iz porodice intelektualaca - njena se majka bavi pisanjem i ima dosta objavljenih stručnih knjiga iz jezika i književnosti i nekoliko knjiga iz beletristike. Suzana je od najranijih dana bila okružena knjigama i već od svoje četvrte godine počela je da čita i da slika. Rani period njenog umetničkog stvaralaštva traje do 1988. godine. U tom periodu oprobala se u različitim oblastima i ostavila za sobom stotine umetničkih radova. Izučavala je slikarske veštine starih majstora i različite tehnike (olovka na kartonu, tempera, ulje na platnu, mozaik, enkaustika, ikonopis, skulptura, duborez). Učestvovala je na mnogim grupnim izložbama i u radu likovnih kolonija. Dobitnik je mnogobrojnih prestižnih nagrada i društvenih i međunarodnih priznanja iz oblasti likovne umetnosti. Završila je srednju matematičko-tehničku školu i učestvovala je na brojnim takmičenjima iz matematike, fizike i književnosti sa zapaženim rezultatima. Iscrpno je izučavala i astronomiju i stekla veoma zavidno znanje iz ove oblasti. Paralelno sa srednjom matematičko-tehničkom školom Suzana je završila i srednju muzičku školu - odsek violina i uporedni klavir. Učestvovala je na brojnim muzičkim takmičenjima, festivalima i muzičkim svečanostima. Već sa petnaest godina komponovala je i svoje prve kompozicije. Nakon završene srednje muzičke škole nastavila je usavršavanje sviranja na klaviru i studirala je književnost. Hiljade sati provodila je uz Mocarta, Baha, Betovena i u čitanju i proučavanju dela najpoznatijih svetskih pisaca. Ipak, slikarstvo je oduvek bilo njena najveća ljubav. Suzanin povratak na slikarsku scenu nakon trinaest godina pauze obeležio je ciklus slika "Magijski svet konja" 2001. godine. Njene slike nalaze se u privatnim kolekcijama u Srbiji, Americi, Italiji, Švajcarskoj, Danskoj, Makedoniji, Hrvatskoj, Crnoj Gori i Sloveniji. Suzana sada živi i radi u Nišu, slika konje i veoma iscrpno izučava anatomiju konja; piše kratke priče i radi na izradi knjige "Tragovima starih majstora" u kojoj detaljno opisuje svoja dugogodišnja iskustva i eksperimente, razne tehnike, izradu crteža i slika. Svakoj svojoj slici poklanja po jednu svoju priču a njen san je da jednoga dana ponovo komponuje i da radi animirane filmove...

IZLOŽBE:
▪ 2003 - Samostalna izložba, Galerija "SKUT", Niš, Srbija
▪ 2002 - Samostalna izložba, Galerija "Geca Kon", Beograd, Srbija
▪ 2002 - Samostalna izložba, Galerija Kulturnog Centra, Vladičin Han, Srbija
▪ 2002 - Samostalna izložba, Galerija Narodnog Univerziteta, Vranje, Srbija
▪ 2001 - Samostalna izložba, Galerija "Madam", Pančevo, Srbija

JAVNE KOLEKCIJE:

▪ Galerija Madam, Pančevo, Srbija