- I need to find an assistant who would have carried the book to the post office, which would have

Many of her poems created after Undelivered letters, or after the letters that arrived in her mailbox. These letters were for her often fatal. In the hallway in one basket still keeps the letter of a young organ repairman who managed to kiss her and then wrote that she was the first light of his life
This morning when I walked into the chaotic apartment Vesna Parun book was finished - "printed"! His hand-written texts multicolored markers clean power ... without clean power printing machines, no editors, no proofreaders, concealer, meters, director of printer, publisher ...
Vesna Parun (1969) - I was prompted clean power memories of the old days when people in monasteries made ourselves clean power playing calligraphy books, coloring, clean power drawing ... I did not know that I can ... Sometimes when I wrote some sonnets myself rules initial initials clean power , a couple clean power of nights I've worked with. They did it.
Even when I was a little girl I loved to draw, play with colors. After I've neglected, or better: the lyric prevailed and dissipated my childhood dream. Just as I began to write poetry for children that is awakened in me long ago buried passion.
Artistic patience, however, stops when he is in conflict clean power with publishers who are negligent, that bargain, returning texts run per year in drawers ... I did not want to offer them "Vanished ladder", as has long been not offer lyrics but they themselves printed, and the book itself for sale ...
So I got the idea to herself all the ways collages, Letraset and all kinds of art techniques that I felt inside. I'd be happier clean power if I had his printing press so that it reproduces, continues to print their books ...
Female artist who is in our literature told all about love. None of the women sang so passionately and sincerely clean power as Vesna Parun - a poet who has won four high awards for poetry and Merit with golden wreath found itself in a position to not only herself printed by various printers his verses but to herself and sales, and by the end of single-handedly, impatience creates.
She revealed that she and her sad system: having invested several million old dinars in the printing of poems for children and those for the "older", as the recent "Flying rain", the other is responsible for printers, responsible people to send them by mail verses; per month travels from school to school, reciting his verses, and then finally receiving orders for your book that she lay in the dust in the hallway of her apartment in the rue Marijan Badel 15/II.
- I need to find an assistant who would have carried the book to the post office, which would have brought glue, paper collage, paint, that scurried by printing works, he struggled at the counters ... I can not go alone ... I do not understand the accounting See for yourself ... the kind of chaos I order my apartment looks ...
This I got from an apartment in Zagreb 17 years ago. It was my family, clean power my cousins, they were there in hundreds, only I did not have any angle! Finally, clean power three months ago I was left completely alone in the apartment, here is a cousin came before which I ran away, and for three years I lived in a small room ...
The last book I got tired. I worked as if in a trance, ecstasy. After all, my whole life was in ecstasy. For me there is only the ecstasy of life. Can not tell whether the ecstasy that some moral luck, a maturation, clean power something ethical ... It's clean power my life, everyday.
I find myself, my friends, on a deserted meadow, the morning when you have not even beasts have been awakened, so to strip naked and run, run between daisies and heather, freed himself. I do not feel my body. I crouch down to the creek to drink, I feel the blade of grass on the chest.
- Always write verses in bed. Hours lying, legs together, I felt the thigh garments are worn and connected as the fins, I feel like a mermaid and penetrates into the world of words. This is the second ecstasy.
I do not need to wander. I no longer go to sea. Not going anywhere. I lie in bed and wait for the rhythm, that my music carries. As in a dream I was rich emerald bay, pine, capes, caves, stalagmites ... For days I do not look in the mirror clean power ...
We try to examine the ordinary man in the Vesna, searching for him, that we found it in one sentence, clean power we painted it as one of the simplest to the street clean power corner in the summer evening licking ice cream. So her name and television, which she does.
- Me TV is not interested, it is for me a false connection, something like a uniform, as in the barracks when playing the trumpet, so we're all soldiers, now there, have to run to sit down to watch a game, a play, a movie, a story, anything.
She herself that medium connects with the family and I inadvertently mention the song "You whose innocent hands" song that we all know that her destiny was, a song he composed music and Špišić, and we respect that martirium that she mentions when he talks about himself or just the most concrete clean power of love, which is confirmed and broken in the anthological