kosovo in polaroids, part four

(at the saturday morning market, where you can find everything from hand-carved wooden spoons to adidas sneaks to fresh produce to old-fashioned shaving cakes)

(for the record, that yellow raincoat is killing me)


(it was the height of pepper season in gjilan and I'll tell you, peppers were everywhere, giant bushels of bright-colored peppers e v e r y w h e r e)


(the small neighborhood shops that sold nothing but eggs charmed me to no end)


(six whole days of sunshine and on our last day, our one free day, it rained)


(in a single image, this is gjilan)

sort of a dream to walk the streets of gjilan, kosovo with my trusty little sx-70. thank you so much for looking, friends. and I thank you for the kind words.

kosovo in polaroids, part three

(këmishë= albanian for 'shirt')


(vildan, who came to the workshops and cut and pasted and painted, vildan, who loved having his picture taken)


(everyday we passed this market and everyday I thought about how much I loved these letters, how much I loved the bright red and yellow)


(peja, the unofficial beer of kosovo)


(like poetry)

(from gjilan, kosovo)

kosovo in polaroids, part two

(I don't know how how the light around her head happened but I sure do love it)


(awesome albanian teenagers)


(inside the studio of the fantastic albanian painter artan hajrullahu, whose work I fell head over heels in love with)


(and while we were visiting with artan in his studio, his mother brought us hot mint tea and apples she'd hand-picked from a tree in their backyard)


(while visiting albanian artist filloreta maliqi, she introduced us to her grandfather, a fine photographer and the first in his village to own a polaroid sx-70 back in the day)


(plastic colored clothespins, oh plastic colored clothespins)

sometimes I like to pair words and descriptions with my polaroids, sometimes I don't. scratch that, I don't. but something about the kosovo polaroids seems to call for it. more words added to part one and: parts three and four on deck.

for the record, it brings me great joy to share these polaroids from gjilan. it means the world that you even look. thank you.

kosovo in polaroids, part one

(biçycletë= albanian for bicycle)


(I raised my camera at them and they smiled but when I crossed my eyes, they broke into laughter)


(songs that hang)


(ian, co-teacher and polaroid partner in crime)


(I sort of wanted to marry this garage door)

(gjilan, kosovo through the lens of a polaroid sx-70)

souvenirs

hello monday, hello friends. I'm over at shutter sisters with with a few words about souvenirs-- those little things you pick up in faraway places, those things you hope will always remind you of magic travels.

brown friday

the most pleasing stack of bricks, maybe in all of gjilan.


the most spectacular cup of macchiato, my very first cup of macchiato. and sort of a big deal, since I don't really drink coffee.


the most awesome co-teacher, ian. artist extraordinaire and a bit of a renaissance man, if you ask me. ian, my friend.

okay so I guess kosovo is sort of coming out in bits and pieces. though I predict the dam will break soon because there's a big fat stack of polaroids I can't wait to share. the biggest fattest juiciest stack.

(the last of poppytalk's autumn color week)

grey thursday

should you find yourself in a crowd of teenagers (particularly albanian teenagers), you'd be wise to whip out a polaroid automatic 100. I found this out the first day we visited one of the schools in gjilan. I took one shot and in a matter of seconds, found myself completely surrounded. the requests came at me from every angle and I shot until I ran out of film. or until it was time to go home, whichever came first.

there's magic in the moment you peel that film apart but even more so when you let them peel that film apart. and the way they look at that photograph and then the way they look at you when you tell them they can keep that photograph. that they can take it home and keep it forever.

I don't think I kept even one for myself. I really wanted to but I just couldn't. felt too good to give them all away.

(for poppytalk's autumn color week)

orange wednesday

dear colored clothes pins and paint palettes of gjilan, I love you.

on an unrelated note, I think maybe I'm finally coming down from that post-trip high. today has been rough.

(for poppytalk's autumn color week)

yellow tuesday

I could have spent hours at the market in gjilan. hours and hours. the smells, the sounds. the color. my goodness, the color. I could have spent hours.


frizer për meshkuj= hairdressing for men. there were at least a hundred lovable little details around gjilan like this. ordinary everyday things seem to take on magic properties in foreign countries. what is that?


but really, the nightly workshops we held at the ringjallja center were my favorite. packed to full capacity each night and more albanian teenagers squeezing into that attic space than I thought possible. paper flying and scissors scissoring and paint screaming out color. it made me happy to be alive, I tell you.

(for poppytalk's autumn color week)

red monday

in a village somewhere between prishtina and gjilan.


inside artist filloreta maliqi's studio. filloreta. fee-lah-reh-tah. is there a prettier name?


around the corner from the hotel: dollar store flowers. er, euro store flowers.

(for poppytalk's autumn color week)

autumn color week

hosted by the ever delightful poppytalk and starting today. if you'd like to play along:

monday: red
tuesday: yellow
wednesday: orange
thursday: grey
friday: brown

for the record, I can't ever seem to say no to color week. not that I'd ever want to but you know what I mean. doesn't matter what I have going on, I will pretty much drop everything when it comes to color week. I am a girl who loves a little color. okay, a lot of color.

am thinking I'll pull select photographs from the kosovo trip (witness above). in hopes that words will follow.

mire dita, mire dita

mire dita= albanian for good day.



I am back from gjilan, kosovo but I am fighting jet lag. I am mostly winning, though. hence the trickle of images you see here.



friends, it was a spectacular week.



life changing, actually.



I don't really even know where to start.



I imagine it'll come in fits and starts. little bits here and there or maybe all at once. maybe it will all come rushing out like water from a broken faucet, I don't know. there are polaroids, there are stories. there are more photographs and probably a few lists. I guess it'll come when it comes.

to all who left kind and encouraging words, thank you. to all who supported me (in so many different ways), thank you. to all who lifted me up in prayer, thank you. I could not have done it without you.

I have big news

I'm headed to gjilan, kosovo with a group of artists from my church this friday. we'll be working with high school art students there as well as holding workshops for the greater art community.

I suppose I've sort of been sitting on this news for a while. wanting to write about it, unsure how or where to start. but now it's here and I'm all out of time. I am in full blown preparation mode and navigating batty pre-travel chaos. if I had the time, I'd tell you all about the country of kosovo. I'd tell you how newly independent and young they are, how 70 percent of the population is under the age of 30. I'd tell you how they're still recovering from a devastating war, how they struggle with a poor infrastructure and economy, a whopping unemployment rate of 40-50 percent. I'd also tell you how hopeful they are. the most hopeful of all the balkans, even in the face of serious struggle.

I'm not going because I believe I can fix any of these problems. or because I believe I can fix anyone. I'm going because I believe art is a powerful way to connect with people. I believe it transcends language and a mess of barriers. I believe it gives voice to the voiceless. most importantly, I believe in how profoundly it reflects the image of God, the ultimate creator, thus connecting us to him in deep, meaningful ways.

the truth is that I'm humbled by this whole thing. I'm going as a teacher but I'm pretty sure I'll come out on the other side the learner.