Love nomad

perth-airport-old-control-tower-1974Life is never about easy things, we all know that. A friend of mine told me a long time ago to stop stating the obvious. Yet, I can’t break that habit. What if I tell you a love story – a story that is not so typical? Yet, we all went through it, and we will – many more times. What if I tell you that I can teach you to love the proper way? You never thought something like that exists. And, even if it did exist, why and what would make me an expert? Well, the thing I learned in this life is that you can’t have all the love you need, the right type of love you need, or the amount of love you need, at the same time and at the same place. And that makes me an expert because I live that life and I use all that widespread love as fuel.

When I was just a kid, I was unlucky to not learn what hard love is. Yes, unlucky. My parents got me when they were older. And, although their lives were something between a tragic comedy and science fiction, they knew the way the love works. They knew the language of love. It just happens so that they rarely expressed that love towards me at the same time and at the same place. As fundamentally different people, they chose the shape of love that I was allowed to see. Yes, daddy was never there because he really worked day and night, weekends and holidays. My mom used to do the same, and then I came. Somebody had to keep the level of love as near as possible to 100%, and they both thought they did it on their own. And they did, but together. I am definitely not gay because of the absence of my father or identification with my mother. I knew I was gay the very first time when I met a beautiful boy at the age of five and we both showed a childish, naive, and undefined love to each other.

And guess what? Life happens. It’s like a fast forwarding VHS cassette with an unknown ending. You’re never completely sure when the tape will break. You have one best friend, a second best friend, a first big love, a second big love, a first serious love, a first really serious love, a “now I’m not joking” first love, etc. Where are all those people? Why are some of them more present in my memories than others? Who says that I loved more at the age of twenty-four than seventeen? Nobody. Nobody will ever tell you. And you know why? Because you can’t measure that. You can’t gather all the people you liked and loved, befriended and unfriended, the ones you thought you loved and the ones you wish you could hate at the very same place and time.

As you walk down your curvy road, trying to leave some marks for love to find you, you realize that love is like physics – or, at least, those parts of physics about light, sound, or maybe even speed. You will find yourself loving your best friend 5,678 miles away from you a little bit more than your uncle that sleeps in the room next door til the day he dies. You will still feel butterflies for that guy you just briefly dated and you thought you would go and learn surfing in Australia with, but not for the one who takes you to your favorite chocolate shop and makes everyone aware how proud he is that he loves you, and that you love him back.

One day, you will find yourself with your luggage – full of nice shirts, underwear, pills and books you bought months ago and should have read before. And, you will make that very spot your control tower. Your loves become domestic and international flights. Some of them are late and they are rushing to get to the airport and some are just always on time and around so you feel safe. Some flights come every few months or maybe even years, because it simply doesn’t pay off to come that often when it costs more than you can afford. And, there are some that you will see on the radar and then they will disappear. Forever.

But the very fact that you do have a place on this crazy planet, and that you establish your own control tower makes you a powerful being. You are expecting, receiving, preparing to take off, preparing to land, losing control, giving, and finally sometimes losing.

And there, from your own control tower you have the most amazing view anyone can have. You can see everything, but not everything is revealed that easily. Sometimes those wings of love get carried away and don’t reappear, and sometimes you just have to accept you will have to love a faint sound, miles away from you, and that you should cherish the moments if and when you have an opportunity to let that love manifest itself.

I am not trying to be super smart or artistic here. I just realized it today. While I was there in Belgrade, I was able to enjoy the love of my parents, but not my best friend. In a little less than twenty-four hours I will feel her love, but my parents will be a distant love. And, when I finally save some money to go to Japan, I might make a new love there. Most likely, all of my other loves will be scattered around the world. And, that is ok. That is really ok. Imagine if you didn’t ever live on this planet. Envision it without all these loves. Wouldn’t that be a crappy place? Wouldn’t you trade that empty space for a simple telephone call or a shirt you got from someone you love that you are convinced it still smells like that person? Wouldn’t you? I would.


The edge of 20’s


Writing is healing – to me, at least. But I didn’t fulfill my goal to do it on daily basis. I have a feeling that many of us didn’t really do well in 2016. I don’t rely much on astrology and karma, but the past year was really hard. It was suffocating and unpleasant. And for the first time I feel like my negative projection of something didn’t leave me standing alone. Many of us felt it.

With every new year people like to make their resolutions. I didn’t have that luxury, because I was in survival mode. Nobody can predict what is going to happen next, but we can hope and we can work on it. After months of struggling with my depression, of avoiding being proactive and of not resolving my problems, one night in December, I decided to turn my world upside down. I decided to leave Washington DC, the city that I still love the most for some not so obvious reasons – memories.

It so happens that Washington DC was the place where I felt the greatest happiness and the greatest sadness. It was a city that I considered a home, yet sometimes I walked its streets like a complete stranger. I lost a lot and yet gained something in return – the ability to hit the rock bottom and realize an exit strategy. I think I owe Washington DC something. That city was like a third parent to me – it taught me a lot and exposed me to uncertainty and misery. It showed me how it looks when you are smiling simply because you are happy from deep down inside.

The whole experience of my last 8 years is already written and will maybe see the light of the day in October. It’s called Depression, the Best Friend I Have. I know, title is ridiculous, but it actually makes sense once you envision your life as a fictive map of the world and you connect the dots to find all of the possible ways.

It is a well-known fact that film is my greatest passion and love. I learnt so much about life from those motion pictures. I mended my broken heart in the darkness of the theatre and, in the end, the films that I enjoyed the most cleared my head and made it obvious that I need to go to Los Angeles. Isn’t that a frightening thing? I am moving to city of more than 13 million people and almost everyone is doing something related to film. Most of them never make it. Some do. But what would it mean to my crazy head if I never tried it? I would punish myself for the rest of my life.

I know it’s not going to be glamourous. I know that nobody is waiting to hand me a job. I know that NO will be the most heard and repeated word. I know I will feel small and lost. But what I also know is that I will never give up. And it is very certain that even if I become successful – it will never be enough. I was looking for myself in all the different places – Berlin, Belgrade, Sarajevo, Washington DC… I never found that “me” who I completely accept as it is. I lacked bravery. I still do. Only brave people are able to look at themselves and say – “This is what you got, use it the best possible way.”

I am not sure if I would still be writing this if there wasn’t a lot of support from people who love me. When I was giving up on myself, they didn’t. And that very thing tells me that there is something worth fighting for. Unfortunately, that saying “Never look back” didn’t work for me. On the contrary, I am a slave of my own past. Writing is a healing process in which you can bury those nasty skeletons. Nobody ever said you should forget your life before now, but live in the moment. Work on your future, don’t dwell in your past. First, you can’t change your past. And, second, at some point it was exactly what you wanted. I said goodbye to Washington DC in a way. Not completely, but I did. I didn’t go to visit some places which hold certain memories, and maybe that’s for the best. Maybe those pavements, walls, and metro stations should just belong to past. Time doesn’t heal everything, but a rational mind does. So, I guess, we can call this a new chapter in my life. Maybe it’s a new scene of my film, but it could also be another take of the same scene – the one that will survive in editing process. Let the camera roll.

Oscar predictions 2017

2017-oscars-89th-academy-awardsBEST PICTURE:

  1. “La La Land”
  2. “Moonlight”
  3. “Manchester by the Sea”
  4. “Lion”
  5. “Arrival”
  6. “Hacksaw Ridge”
  7. “Hell or High Water”
  8. “Hidden Figures”
  9. “Loving”


  1. Damien Chazelle (“La La Land”)
  2. Barry Jenkins (“Moonlight”)
  3. Denis Villeneuve (“Arrival”)
  4. Kenneth Lonergan (“Manchester by the Sea”)
  5. Mel Gibson (“Hacksaw Ridge”)


  1. Denzel Washington (“Fences”)
  2. Andrew Garfield (“Hacksaw Ridge”)
  3. Ryan Gosling (“La La Land”)
  4. Casey Affleck (“Manchester by the Sea”)
  5. Viggo Mortensen (“Captain Fantastic”)


  1. Natalie Portman (“Jackie”)
  2. Emma Stone (“La La Land”)
  3. Amy Adams (“Arrival”)
  4. Isabelle Huppert (“Elle”)
  5. Ruth Negga (“Loving”)


  1. Mahershala Ali (“Moonlight”)
  2. Hugh Grant (“Florence Foster Jenkins”)
  3. Aaron Taylor-Johnson (“Nocturnal Animals”)
  4. Jeff Bridges (“Hell or High Water”)
  5. Ben Foster (“Hell or High Water”)


  1. Viola Davis (“Fences”)
  2. Michelle Williams (“Manchester by the Sea”)
  3. Nicole Kidman (“Lion”)
  4. Naomie Harris (“Moonlight”)
  5. Octavia Spencer (“Hidden Figures”)


  1. “La La Land”
  2. “Manchester by the Sea”
  3. “Hell or High Water”
  4. “Captain Fantastic”
  5. “The Lobster”


  1. “Moonlight”
  2. “Arrival”
  3. “Lion”
  4. “Loving”
  5. “Hidden Figures”


  1. “La La Land”
  2. “Jackie”
  3. “Arrival”
  4. “Hail, Caesar!”
  5. “Hidden Figures”


  1. “La La Land”
  2. “Arrival”
  3. “Lion”
  4. “Moonlight”
  5. “Nocturnal Animals”


  1. “Jackie”
  2. “La La Land”
  3. “Florence Foster Jenkins”
  4. “Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them”
  5. “Allied”


  1. “Moonlight”
  2. “La La Land”
  3. “Arrival”
  4. “Hacksaw Ridge”
  5. “Hell or High Water”


  1. “Deadpool”
  2. “Florence Foster Jenkins”
  3. “The Dressmaker”


  1. “Hacksaw Ridge”
  2. “La La Land”
  3. “Arrival”
  4. “The Jungle Book”
  5. “Rogue One: A Star Wars Story”


  1. “Hacksaw Ridge”
  2. “Arrival”
  3. “Deepwater Horizon”
  4. “Rogue One: A Star Wars Story”
  5. “Sully”


  1. “Captain America: Civil War”
  2. “The Jungle Book”
  3. “Arrival”
  4. “Rogue One: A Star Wars Story”
  5. “Kubo and the Two Strings”


  1. “Nocturnal Animals”
  2. “La La Land”
  3. “Moonlight”
  4. “Lion”
  5. “Jackie”


  1. “Moana”
  2. “La La Land” (“The Fools Who Dream”)
  3. “La La Land” (“City of Stars”)
  4. “Hidden Figures”
  5. “Sing Street”


  1. “Kubo and the Two Strings”
  2. “Moana”
  3. “Zootopia”
  4. “The Red Turtle”
  5. “My Life as a Zucchini”


  1. “Toni Erdmann” (Germany)
  2. “The Salesman” (Iran)
  3. “Tanna” (Australia)
  4. “Land of Mine” (Denmark)
  5. “It’s Only the End of the World” (Canada)



Trust me, it is easy to be satisfied!

satisfaction-clipart-1.jpg.pngAs somebody who studied film and who developed a true love for it from early age, I have often asked myself if film is actually a form of art or not? Does time change everything, and apart from people being less interested in investing their minds into film plots, is it also the hyper production which kills the essence of art in it? A dear friend of mine, one peculiar intellectual turned crazy scientist (also my ex boyfriend) gave me a very simplified definition of art that disappointed me at the time. He said – “Art simply needs to be beautiful.” I was puzzled and upset, wondering what happens with art that is not beautiful, that carries a social or political message, or simply an emotional one. Does it land in a different category? Is an art film just an indie produced drama that is being admired by the crème de la crème of sophisticated members of film society? Read More

Story of how a 17 year old gay escaped from being held at gunpoint


What you are about to read is a disturbing story about a 17-year-old boy, whom I didn’t know so well, especially on that July 25th in 2005 when I had been able to help him. He was cheerful, childish, at times serious, zealous, successful for his age and friendly. Also, he was a goddamn faggot, living in Serbia. A young, naive gay man, looking for new experiences, still very much an adolescent. It could not be explained to him that the trust he places so lightly in a stranger could cost him his life – he enjoyed flirting with strangers and kissing unknown men too much to see the danger. Read More