I came across Nenad Burcar on Tkalciceva street just off Zagreb’s main square, selling his paintings. He is also a writer, and he asked if I was interested in producing some of his television scripts. When I asked if I could take his picture he agreed, but only if he could also take mine. So to honor his request I am including his pictures of me — holding his paintings.
Between the Zagreb bus station and the main square I came up behind this sweet couple. She’s looking ahead and he’s looking down. He depends on her.
I know they’ve seen lots of change and turmoil in their lives. Have they always turned to each other for strength? Have their struggles brought them closer together? Do they share their deepest thoughts? On the other hand they might have a silent dependency, just trying to read each other’s minds.
I often wonder how the people in my photos live and act and think.
The windows were grimy and the weathered boards hadn’t seen paint in decades.
I thought the place was deserted. The windows were grimy and the weathered boards hadn’t seen paint in decades. But the sign said it was open. Inside, saddles lined the wall and harnesses and bridles dangled from pegs. John was in the workshop in back. He was friendly enough, but I was from out of town. He had grown up in the trade, learning firsthand from his dad, and knew just about everyone in the area who had ever climbed up onto a saddle.
One of his ancestors had written about the local history in the mid 1800’s and John was hoping to get it in print. His roots ran long and deep in northeast Kansas. I was just passing through. I offered to send him a print, but he didn’t seem too interested.