A Place from Previous Tales is a collection of photo-notes from various trips, and its content, from today’s perspective (during the COVID-19 pandemic) could be read as a utopian time of freedom and movement. It is one of the four series that together make up the whole titled While Waiting. The first two series (A Place from Previous Tales, I Can’t Even Remember Who Won) were created in the period from 2016 until early 2020 and are related to generic images through which we try to remember the world and establish our own existence in it. These are self-reflective details of everyday life, situations and actions. Upon close observation, their poetic qualities become menacing and somewhat prophetic in their examination of the concepts of freedom, movement and activity, compared to the subject-matter of the other two series in which the photographs were created amidst the global quarantine prompted by the spread of the COVID-19 virus. Created during a period of restricted movement and outings, the photographs from the second two series (While Waiting for This to Pass, The Things We Didn’t Use) question reality from a passive, observational standpoint in which the world is only as big as the eyes can see.

This series of photographs is organised into one of the four volumes of the photobook While Waiting, which was self-published in 100 original copies, each hand-bound, numbered, and signed by the author.

The project is dedicated to a birthday celebration and analyses a situation of togetherness and camaraderie which can today equally be interpreted as sort of finished past tense, an album of habits that have since become a threat. It is one of the four series that together make up the whole titled While Waiting. The first two series (A Place from Previous Tales, I Can’t Even Remember Who Won) were created in the period from 2016 until early 2020 and are related to generic images through which we try to remember the world and establish our own existence in it. These are self-reflective details of everyday life, situations and actions. Upon close observation, their poetic qualities become menacing and somewhat prophetic in their examination of the concepts of freedom, movement and activity, compared to the subject-matter of the other two series in which the photographs were created amidst the global quarantine prompted by the spread of the COVID-19 virus. Created during a period of restricted movement and outings, the photographs from the second two series (While Waiting for This to Pass, The Things We Didn’t Use) question reality from a passive, observational standpoint in which the world is only as big as the eyes can see.

This series of photographs is organised into one of the four volumes of the photobook While Waiting, which was self-published in 100 original copies, each hand-bound, numbered, and signed by the author.

While Waiting for This to Pass shifts the gaze from the ground and from memory, directing it towards a segment of the sky where the passage of time may be read as a repetitive and durational handbook for the state of confinement and restricted movement. It is one of the four series that together make up the whole titled While Waiting. The first two series (A Place from Previous Tales, I Can’t Even Remember Who Won) were created in the period from 2016 until early 2020 and are related to generic images through which we try to remember the world and establish our own existence in it. These are self-reflective details of everyday life, situations and actions. Upon close observation, their poetic qualities become menacing and somewhat prophetic in their examination of the concepts of freedom, movement and activity, compared to the subject-matter of the other two series in which the photographs were created amidst the global quarantine prompted by the spread of the COVID-19 virus. Created during a period of restricted movement and outings, the photographs from the second two series (While Waiting for This to Pass, The Things We Didn’t Use) question reality from a passive, observational standpoint in which the world is only as big as the eyes can see.

This series of photographs is organised into one of the four volumes of the photobook While Waiting, which was self-published in 100 original copies, each hand-bound, numbered, and signed by the author.

The Things We Didn’t Use elaborates on the theme initiated in the third series (While Waiting for This to Pass) and records the situations of coping and being quarantined, a moment of limited circumstances of life within which we need to find meaning. It is one of the four series that together make up the whole titled While Waiting. The first two series (A Place from Previous Tales, I Can’t Even Remember Who Won) were created in the period from 2016 until early 2020 and are related to generic images through which we try to remember the world and establish our own existence in it. These are self-reflective details of everyday life, situations and actions. Upon close observation, their poetic qualities become menacing and somewhat prophetic in their examination of the concepts of freedom, movement and activity, compared to the subject-matter of the other two series in which the photographs were created amidst the global quarantine prompted by the spread of the COVID-19 virus. Created during a period of restricted movement and outings, the photographs from the second two series (While Waiting for This to Pass, The Things We Didn’t Use) question reality from a passive, observational standpoint in which the world is only as big as the eyes can see.

This series of photographs is organised into one of the four volumes of the photobook While Waiting, which was self-published in 100 original copies, each hand-bound, numbered, and signed by the author.

Why is there a bell on the ferry? Why did some people take one bottle of water, and others two bottles? Why does everyone have either Teva shoes or climbing boots except for Andrija and me? Why did we all think it takes more and it takes less? Why did Pero, when we were drinking at the Bard, offer Vranjić a one-dollar bet for a gram of fish he caught? Why didn't we borrow a Lada Niva? Why is it so beautiful here? Why are we already on our second beer and we’re not even there yet? Why did they build a house here? Why don’t we care that we’re not alone? Why did we hang our dry clothes on the line? Why is only my hammock a different colour? Why did Decathlon get more expensive? Why did Pepi’s pants get in his butt when we were going down?

Why did Andrija ask him if it wouldn’t be easier to carry just one bottle? Why does Dragan need string for a hammock, and he always has string and everything else? Why does he want to tie the hammock to that particular branch that definitely won’t hold? Why hasn't Vranjić started fishing yet? Why do we put sunscreen before get in the water and not afterwards? Why is there a rubber dinghy here and whose is it? Why did Pero get a rash last year when they buried him? Why did we go in the water for the fifth time? Why is the sun so hot and we don't care? Why is there sunscreen on the glasses too? Why does this wooden boat look like a house at sea? Why hasn’t Vranjić caught any fish yet? Why is this place full of love? Why is wood so hard we can’t even chop it with an axe? Why didn’t we eat salsa first and leave the sausages for later? Why did you make so little hot sauce? Why do we say for the ferry and point in the imaginary direction? Why will they build a campsite here and spoil everything? Why don’t we have sleeping bags on the beach and it’s getting cold? Why is it so hard to find a good spot on these rocks? Why do we suddenly have too much Jameson and we’ll drink it in the morning? Why isn’t this a symmetrical composition? Why does Pero have an app for the stars? Why is Dragan trying so hard to explain the composition to Andrija? Why does Andrija still not get it? Why did he suddenly get it now? Why doesn’t anyone want to go for a dip now? Why did nobody see the brightest falling star? Why do we call it a fallen star, and how would it even fall horizontally? Why did Pero get out of the tent? Why does Dragan sleep the longest? Why are there flies on the mozzarella? Why do some people take longer to poop? Why hasn’t Vranjić still caught any fish and does it have anything to do with Furkan? Why are the towels hanging? Why did the sea cool down six degrees overnight? Why is it better to buy things someone else doesn't like? Why does Pero always say you do this, you do that, or I’ll punch you? Why is Dragan making a second coffee, but there is no gas for tea? Why do they even make these different extensions for the cooker? Why didn’t Vranjić jump? Why a towel fight and what are the rules? Why don’t I have soles of my feet, like in the Let 3 song? Why these clouds all of a sudden? Why didn’t Pero tell anyone he had some Coke? Why did the Germans invent kohlrabi? Why can’t anyone remember the last time we went to Mrzla vodica? Why did they come up with this particular symbol for the heart? Why did Dragan hear the pop version? Why did Pero bend over? Why is it not enough to squat three times to take a dump? Why will the 7 o’clock ferry be less crowded? Why is it difficult for Andrija to dive with a snorkel? Why are mussels in the sand? Why did we talk about the gallery for more than an hour? Why does the wind cool the 10-litre pouch? Why has Vranjić caught some fish after all? Why are we talking about how we’re all going to get it tattooed on our thighs? Why is it not important to make money if it’s love? Why is it so hot in the sun, let’s move to the shade?! How come Dragan has made such a good cradle for himself in the pebbles? Why is it better to swim in swim trunks than in those other shorts? Why is everyone farting? Why did Andrija forget the mat? Why is Ines calling Dragan and asking if we’re staying till tomorrow, where did this come from? Why is it better for Vranjić to buy a boat than that device for making bicycle frames? Why will Andrija’s poop be hot? Why should you take a shit on the scales? Why can you get down here from two sides? Why is the salsa still in the fridge? Why is the rubber dinghy still turned the other was around? Why did we only choose budget products? Why is a wooden boat better than a teleport, or a teleport better than a wooden boat? Why are there some people now who are about to get naked? Why does Dragan have a red and blue cap? Why does everyone think someone else should cook the pasta? Why is Dragan reading Agatha Christie out loud? Why is it rude to turn around to see if Dragan is lying that the people who’ve come down are naked? Why are we eating spaghetti in the form of salty sticks for lunch? Why do I have to choose between K1 and boxing, what is K1 anyway? Why are you doing this? Why did you wake up the scorpions and now I have to think about sandals and scorpions? Why do I even have to think at all? Why is Dragan being attacked by a hornet? Why is Peter upset? Why is Peter upset? Why are there so many people on that speedboat, sorry, two speedboats? Why is everyone counting speedboats now? Why two, four, six...? Why did Petar go to the ferry on foot? Why didn’t we pour out the leftover water? Why did the ferry just suddenly appear? Why is everything now as if nothing ever happened and Pero is hugging Vranjić on the ferry, so we go to Oliva’s to order four or five fries, even though Oliva’s is a restaurant, not a fast food, so Pero orders a cheeseburger so the waiter is not embarrassed, and pays for the whole lot, so Andrija thinks this was not the dinner they bet on that damn fish, which was ugly to boot, and I think Vranjić doesn’t care, and Dragan doesn’t even order a water, and I don’t even know what to think anymore?