This is an example of tasty&classy reach in electro-pop music. The singer is only 17 years old. Sings about things she (not)knows, without trying to be some sick Lolita with daddy issues.

I was never much into pop music but there are some great musicians that deserve every bit of a respect. However the 21st century is proving to be a very stupid one in terms of pop music. Also the voice of Annie Lennox notices something’s going very wrong with the whole pop music industry.

I know what I’m talking about. As kids, my friends and I have witnessed enough of old pedophiles jerking off. We’re all born&raised at Dalmatian coast, enjoying&loving our paradise as children normally do. For some unreasonable reason, a ‘civilized’ pedophile would visit Dalmatia (part of Yugoslavia at that time), considering it to be a paradise for ‘free watching’. However, what they all didn’t know is that we, the uncivilized child natives, would not stand still >> we would take a rock, stone or whatever and hit the mother f…er hard. Bitter surprise for him and lots of laughs from our side. Yeah, ‘a civilized tourist’ didn’t know that the wild natives can be pretty crazy and defensive as young partisans.

That’s why I don’t know what’s happening with teens today. It seems as if they’re under some kind of weird hypnosis that ain’t for sure a sexual revolution. It looks more like a global sexual repulsion.

I reckon that if any of those kids singers or kids fans would witness jerking off of a some old pedophile, they would be at least repulsed. But hitting them hard with a rock or stone, well…that takes a lot of discipline, practice and great team of normal kids.

beeing carefree&responsible >> that’s true freedom

I don’t like this day. Honestly, hate it. And one must not hate. Calling it; ‘mio capriccio de odio’.

On this day moja baba* died. She was my mum and I was ‘only’ 21. I know life is not fair and her sudden, ‘unfair’ death made me question life even more. Moja baba was always healthy and strong like a bull (even in zodiac she was a taurus). Shortly before her death I almost lost a kidney due to insufficient fluid intake after running. She always worried about my kidneys; it was her ‘capriccio’ to always remind me to pay attention to kidneys. After 3 weeks I got better while she suddenly got sick and died 3 weeks later. I wasn’t at the funeral cause I couldn’t bare it. But I could bare being with her in the hospital, massaging her, washing her, talking and making plans about our garden etc. Her hospital room was no. 36.  Now, whenever I hear someone talking that at 35-36 km of a marathon one gets a crises I put a ‘smile’ on; somehow I remembered that perverse number and there’s no way that I’ll get a f… crises. Still, if it occurs, moja baba will help me.

She taught me many, many things. Extremely wise, down to earth, simple person. Loved to talk a lot and made people laugh as true stand-up comedian. Had a thing for inventing new words or phrases that made weird sense. She was a professional cook so I learned everything from her. She was also a great gardener and we never had to go to supermarket for vegetables or fruits. Working with earth, plants, flowers, vegetables was her zen moment that seduced me already as a small kid. My wish is to have own garden one day.

But the most, most important: she was my only solace and anchor for simple wild child soul. She would protect me from mother, brother, grandpa, father…in short, any version of a ‘stupidity’. Thought me to look at life with ease whenever is possible and not to worry much about things that are in essence irrelevant. Only thing that she constantly repeated was ‘pamet u glavu’** and everything will be ok.

Today I really tried not to think about this day. I took my dog to veterinarian’s clinic for a small procedure and everything went well. He doesn’t need an additional operation. But during my evening training, the evening star Danica shined so brightly; tough it was cloudy, she was peeking through, watching me.

This is her favorite song. I used to play it for her on the piano and she would sing.

I love&miss my Danica. Always will.

– – – –

*   eng. my granny

** eng. be smart / use your brain

It’s raining dramatically and peacefully today. After too much sun I find rain to be very soothing . Like a soft massage to my soul.

Today is exactly 2 weeks after I started training for the marathon. Since the 2nd of October I ran in total 42.66 km, including 5 days break in between. Few days ago I got trainer Goran as additional help. He has drawn a weekly training program that includes 1 heavy training (yasso or tempo), 3 light trainings (12-18km) and weekend’s long steady runs. I have to keep track of my running time and improve it slowly. There’s no point me ending like Pheidippides.

I didn’t know that my trainer is brother of Mladen Matičević‘s wife. But more importantly, what I didn’t know is that his best friend committed suicide two months ago. Few friends gently warned me about his ‘sad state’. I never like to pity another person. I find it degrading. So while we’re talking about me running a marathon, why and what it means to me, I mentioned my 2 clinical deaths and a basket of oranges that saved my life when I was 7; I landed straight into it from 5 m high. Later he offered me an orange, said he’ll help me to train and connect me with two other marathon men from Makarska: “It’s easier to run when you’re with others Martina.”

I’m a painter. But in ‘artistic world’ of today, there is no sincerity. There’s no fair play. There are politics, marketing, agents, critics, money washing and imperative of who knows who and how good you’re at lying.  Aleksandar Srnec once said “The moment you sell yourself, your art has gone to hell.”

I’ve found my way to escape that ugly, artificial world. I paint. I make exhibitions. I sell paintings to persons who really like them and want them to have. I’m a proof that agents, critics and other walls that are still surrounding a vast majority of ‘artists’ can be climbed over. Instant popularity doesn’t interest me. A person is becoming a painter whole her/his life. And maybe, just maybe, at the end of her/his life, that person might become an artist as well.

Sport is a fair play: it all comes down to your abilities & will to train. Everything is pretty much straight forward. There are no biased critiques “we say you can’t compete because we don’t like the style of your running shoes.” And when the day of a competition comes, you try to be best as you can.

And that’s why I like sport as the opposite to my painting.

The same I like rain as the opposite to sun.