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Pričam ti priču / Telling a story / Eu vă spun o poveste


Pričam ti priču / Telling a story / Eu vă spun o poveste

Zabok, 2012. godine


Snježna mećava / The snow blizzard Sarajevska zima / Sarajevo winter Sarajevo je ćejf / Sarajevo is pleasure Armija u nošnji / Army in the traditional national costumes Ples života / The dance of life Na srcu nema bora! / The heart has no wrinkles!

Srednja škola primijenjenih umjetnosti Sarajevo / BIH


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Snježna mećava

The snow blizzard

Nisam rođena u Sarajevu, ali ne dam nikome da kaže da nisam Sarajka. Ovaj grad mi je dao sve, porodicu, ljubav, posao, stan, sve. Kad smo, moj muž i ja, bili mladi naše društvo je zimovalo na okolnim planinama. To je bilo veliko društvo, nas pedeset. Sjećam se jedne Nove godine, tek sam bila rodila sina i ostavila ga kod muževe majke radi naše proslave sa prijateljima. Bili smo na planini, uživali u radostima sa prijateljima kada je počela strašna mećava. Sam plan je bio provesti par dana na planini, ali smo ostali zavejani deset dana, bez hrane i pića. Nakon desetog dana nismo više mogli izdržati, iskopali smo put van iz kolibe i pješke krenuli niz planinu. Do tada se već saznalo za nas, čak su i na radiju spominjali grupu koju je zatrpao snijeg. Tako smo kroz duboki snijeg pješačili mnoge kilometre, prolazili kroz sela, gdje su nas ljudi dočekivali sa čajem i sendvičima. Trebalo nam je dva dana hoda da stignemo do Sarajeva, mada nas je na posljednjem dijelu puta čovjek prevezao sa kamionom. Nekako je čitav život u Sarajevu bio takav, jedna velika avantura.

I was not born in Sarajevo, but I never give anyone the permission to say that I'm not a native. This city has given me everything: family, love, work, housing, everything. When we, my husband and I, were young, we spent winters in the surrounding mountains together with our friends. It was a great company of fifty people. I remember one New Year's Eve,I just gave birth to my first son, and left him at my husband's mother’s place, so that we could celebrate with our friends. We were on the mountain, enjoying the time with our friends when a terrible blizzard began. We planed to spend a few days on the mountain, but we were buried in snow for ten days, without food or drink. After the tenth day we were no longer able to endure, we dug a way out of the hut and started walking down the mountain. At this time everybody knew about us, they even mentioned on the radio that a group of people is buried under the snow. So we walked through the deep snow for many kilometers, passing through villages where people welcomed us with tea and sandwiches. It took us two days' journey to get to Sarajevo, but on the last stretch of the road a man gave us a lift in his a truck. Somehow the whole my life in Sarajevo was like that, one big adventure.

/ Nada


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Sarajevska zima

Sarajevo winter

Ja sam u ovom gradu upoznao sve, kao i dobre tako i loše strane života. Ali se posebno rado sjećam zime u ovom gradu. Uvijek je sve bilo okićeno, uvijek bučno i živo, puno svijeta pored velikih hladnoća. Ljudi su se okupljali u kafanama, razgovarali, prepirali se nadmetali se u poljima umjetnosti, kulture. Živjeli smo u zajedništvu, zima nam je donosila radost, još jedan razlog da se okupljamo, družimo. Sjećam se jednog događaja, bio je decembar, ja mislim, kafana u kojoj je moje društvo sjedilo je bila opljačkana, razbijena. Svi gosti se zajedno sklopili dogovor i obnovili pokvarena stakla. Jednostavno smo se brinuli jedni za druge.

In this town I've met everything, good and bad sides of life. But I especially remember winter in this town. It was always all decorated, always noisy and lively, streets full of people despite great coldness. People gathered in coffee bars, talked, argued, debated in the fields of art and culture. We lived in communion, the winter brought us joy, it was another reason to gather, socialize. I remember one incident, it was December, I think, coffeeshop in which my company sat was looted, smashed. All its guests jointly signed the agreement to restore broken glass. We just took care of each other.

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/ Marko


Sarajevo je ćejf 

Sarajevo is pleasure

Bila je jedna kafana u mojoj mladosti kojoj se dobro pratilo na koji način su gosti pili kafu, jer se kod nas kafa pije na poseban način, i u kojoj je uvreda bila za vlasnika kada bi se neko našao ko nije znao uživati u kafi. Naša čaršija je uvijek odisala tim duhom ispijanja kafe, čak se kafa naručivala, uvijek, jedan su dva ili jedna džezva i dva fildžana radi samo mogućnosti da bi netko mogao da svrati na trenutak. Ja sam ono što je Sarajevo učinilo od mene. Bilo je lijepih momenata a i loših, život je takav. Imao sam ženu i troje djece, a sada imam jednog sina i jednog unuka. Najteže mi je bilo kada mi je sin, koji je bio vojnik, u ratu, u tunelu na izlazu iz Sarajeva izdahnuo na mojim rukama od srca.

There was a coffee bar in my youth where there was well attended how the guests were drinking coffee, because coffee drinking is very special here. The owner would be insulted when he found someone who did not know how to enjoy the coffee. Our čaršija (neighbourghood) has always exuded the spirit of drinking coffee, coffee was even ordered as one with two which meant one džezva (coffee pots) and two fildžan (cups), because there was a possibility that someone could come over for a moment. I am what Sarajevo made me. There were nice moments and bad too, life is like that. I had a wife and three children. And now I have one son and grandson. The hardest thing in my life was when my son, who was a soldier in war, died in my hands from heart in the tunnel at the exit from Sarajevo.

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/ Hadžija - Suljo


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Armija u nošnji

Army in the traditional national costumes

Nikada neću zaboraviti, kada sam tek došao u Sarajevo, 60-ih, i prvi put prošao čaršijom ljude u tradicionalnim nošnjama koji su izlazili ispred svojih radnjica ujutro i pozdravljali se sa čitavom čaršijom. Kao ni svoje vrijeme u vojsci i razne ljude koji su prošli kroz moju jedinicu, raznih nacionalnosti i vjeroispovijesti koji su se našli zajedno na jednom mjestu bez nesuglasica. Vojska i jeste bila razlog mog dolaska i boravka u Sarajevu. Sjećam se smiješne situacije sa vojnikom koji je stigao u moju jedinicu i pravio strašne probleme, radi obećanja koje mi je dao da će on održavati mir u jedinici. Morao sam ga poslati nazad kući i s njim pratnju jednog od mojih najboljih vojnika, mirnog i malo manjeg. Nakon povratka mi je vojnik pričao što je sve doživio, kako se osjećao nelagodno i kako je onaj koji je pravio probleme u jednom trenutku čak i pobjegao iz voza.

I will never forget when I came to Sarajevo, in the 1960s, and for the first time walked through the čaršija and saw people in traditional costumes in front of their workshops in the morning who were greeting everybody on čaršija. I will also remeber my time in the army and different people who passed through my unit, various nationalities and religions who have found themselves in one place without disagreements. The army is the reason for my visit and stay in Sarajevo. I remember a funny situation with a soldier who came to my unit and caused terrible problems because he gave me a promise that he would maintain peace in the unit. I had to send him back home accompanied by one of my best soldiers, quiet, a little smaller. After returning, my soldier told me everything he experienced, that he felt uncomfortable and that, the one who made the problems, at one point even escaped from a train.

/ Luka

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Ples života

The dance of life

Nikada neću zaboraviti svoju prvu ljubav koju mi je dalo baš Sarajevo, bili smo mladi i živjeli u istoj mahali, dijelili klupu u školi. Zvao se Amir i uvijek smo se zajedno divili baščaršijskim radnjama i tim nošnjama kao što je i Luka rekao. Tada su se praznici kod nas slavili unutar mahale i okupljali kod porodica, posebno za Božić i Bajram. A ni mladost ne zaboravljam, ni plesove na koje smo išli. To je bilo drugačije nego kod vas sada, uvijek smo znali ko nas simpatiše, čim nas pozove na ples par puta. Sređivale smo se, uvijale kosu, oblačile lijepe haljine, pa čak i bježale od kuće samo da odemo na ples. Bilo je uzbudljivo, kao iz romana, osjećala sam se tako živo. Znate, Sarajevo je bilo posebno. Lijep je ovaj grad bio.

I will never forget my first love, which gave me just Sarajevo. We were young, we lived in same mahala (settlement), we shared the same bench at school. His name was Amir and we always admired čaršija stores and those costumes. Then, the holidays were celebrated inside the mahala and within the family, especially for the Christmas and Bayram. And I'm not forgetting the youth, or the dances which we went to. It was different then than it is now, we always knew who liked us, as soon as we were invited to dance with him for a few times. We had make-overs, we curled our hair, wore beautiful dresses, and even escaped from home just to go to the dance. It was exciting, like in novels, I felt so alive. You know, Sarajevo was special. It was a beautiful town.

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/ Anja


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Na srcu nema bora!

The heart has no wrinkles!

Kažu da ljubav ne zna za godine. To nam je potvrdio jedan sedamdesetogodišnji bračni par. U ovom gradu - u ovom našem Sarajevu našla sam ljubav u ovom domu, ljubav s kojom već 10 godina dijelim sobu i srce. Prije deset godina došli smo ovde i zaljubili se na prvi pogled, kako kažu. Isprva su nas zabrinjavale naše godine, jer smo zaista dosta stari, ali s vremenom smo shvatili da one u ljubavi nisu bitne, da na srcu nema bora i da naše posljednje godine života želimo provesti zajedno. Mi ne dijelimo samo sobu, krevet i slicno, mi dijelimo život, dijelimo zrak, dobre i loše stvari. Kroz sve prolazimo zajedno. Sve ovo nam je dalo naše Sarajevo, zbog njega smo saznali za ove ljude i zato smo mu zahvalni na tome.

They say that love does not know years. This has been confirmed by a septuagenarian couple. “In this town - in our Sarajevo,our home I found love, the love with whom I've been sharing a room and heart for 10 years. Ten years ago we came here and fell in love at first sight, as they say. At first we were concerned about our age because we are really quite old, but over the time we realized that years in love are not essential, that the heart has no wrinkles and that we want to spend our last years of life together. We do not share only a room, a bed, we share life, we share the air, good and bad things. Through all of it we go together.” Our Sarajevo gave us this story, Sarajevo made us we hear about these people and that is why we are grateful to it. 017

/ Kaja i Bajro


Nepoznata žena / The Unknown Woman

Škola za umjetnost, dizajn, grafiku i odjeću Zabok / HR


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Bio je šesti dan promrzloga siječnja – dan Sveta tri kralja. Padale su krupne pahulje snijega. Uske ceste nisu bile prohodne. Gospođa Josipa i njezin sin jedva su se probijali kroz snijeg na putu do crkve.

It was the sixth day of a frozen January – the day of the Twelfth Night. Big snowflakes were falling on the ground covering the narrow roads with thick snow and making them hard to be walked on. Josipa and her son were on their way to the church. They were walking through the snow with great difficulty.


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Pokušavajući progledati kroz gustu maglu, Josipa osjeti prisutnost treće osobe i nenadani nemir koji joj obuze um i tijelo. Ugleda pred sobom ženu nižega rasta omotanu u bijeli rubac, odjevenu u crni kaput - mrtvilo crnoga gavrana koji navješćuje smrt.

As she was forcing her eyes to break the thick fog, Josipa felt a presence of a third person. Her mind and body were forced into a sudden feeling of intense anxiety. All at once, standing in front of her, she saw a rather short woman wrapped into a white head scarf, dressed into a black coat – black raven announcing death.


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Na nogama su se vidjele čarape bijele poput anđela koje su se stopile sa snijegom. Tu je bjelinu prekidalo i uništavalo i opet mrtvilo – glomazne crne cipele. Kako li je samo mogla hodati u njima? Izgledale su kao da imaju tonu.

On her legs there were white stockings, white as angels, white as the snow around her. The whiteness was broken and destroyed by death again – on her feet there were very big black shoes. How on earth is she able to walk in them? They must weigh a ton.


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Josipa je bila očarana prizorom sve dok nije ugledala raspuštenu neopranu kosu koja je odavala dojam neurednosti i zapuštenosti. Imala je osjećaj kao da zna tu ženu odnekud, vidjela je već tu kosu negdje! Rekla joj je : "Dobro jutro!“, no žena se bez odgovora udaljila.

Josipa was overwhelmed by the scene until she noticed the woman’s long, greasy hair which gave impression of untidiness; negligence, too. Josipa felt as if she had known the woman; she had seen that hair somewhere! “Good morning”, she said. The woman moved away without saying a word.


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Mlada se žena izgubila u magli dok je Josipa uhvatila svog sinčića za promrzlu ručicu. Želja da sustigne nepoznatu ženu natjerala je Josipu da počne trčati. U jednom je trenutku ostala bez daha! Uznemirila se! Koliko god da trčala, Josipa se neznanki nije mogla približiti!

The fog hid her and Josipa reached for her son’s little frozen hand. The wish to catch up with the woman made her run. Suddenly she was out of breath! And she felt really restless! No matter how fast she ran, she wasn’t able to reach her.


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Iscrpljena, upita sina: "E si ti to videl? Kak to more biti, kak?" Nastala je mukla tišina. Ušavši u crkvu, Josipin je nemir rastao. U nadi da će vidjeti nepoznatu ženu, dizala se na prste tražeći je pogledom. Omamilo je mnoštvo koje se guralo, zasićeni zrak, nelagoda. Otkuda taj osjećaj nemira koji je nastao pojavom neznanke? Želi li joj nešto reći, nagovijestiti, pokazati, upozoriti?

“Did you see that? How is that possible?! How?! “, she asked her son exhaustedly. A silence fell all around them. As they entered the church, Josipa’s uneasiness grew. Hoping to see the unknown woman, she stood on her tiptoes trying to see her face amongst all the people. She became stunned by the crowd, burnt incense and anxiety. Why did this stranger make her feel so restless? Does she have something to tell her or does she want to warn her of something?


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Josipa mladu žena više nikada nije vidjela, ali i danas u sebi nosi sliku bijeloga rupca, glomaznih crnih cipela, raskuštrane svijetle kose. Nosi nemir koji je u njoj ostavila, a ne zna tko je ona – tek slutnja najdubljih strahova na životnome putu svakoga čovjeka?

Josipa has not seen the woman since, but she still remembers the white head scarf, giant black shoes and tousled hair. She still feels restless not knowing who the woman was – maybe a hint of every man’s deepest fear?


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Bunicul meu - Veteran de rトホboi / My grandfather - A war veteran

Licuel de Arta Margareta Sterian / RO


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La intrarea României în război împotriva URSS, la 22 iunie 1941, ca aliată a Germaniei, aviaţia militară română avea în serviciu 621 de avioane; Aviaţia a îndeplinit sute de misiuni, contribuind efectiv la eliberarea provinciilor româneşti Bucovina de nord şi Basarabia, ocupate cu forţa armată de URSS în iulie 1940. Aviaţia română a obţinut între anii 19411944 un număr de 2000 victorii aeriene. De veteranii de război ne amintim cu mândrie, iar aceştia ţin să ne reamintească, purtându-şi cu onoare ţinuta militară şi decoraţiile, că poate România ar fi avut alte graniţe dacă nu ar fi bătătorit la pas şi în zbor, Rusia, Ungaria, Cehia şi alte tărâmuri măcinate de cel de-al Doilea Război Mondial.

On June 1941, when Romania entered the war as an ally of Germany against the URSS, the Romanian air force had 621 aircrafts on its service. The air force accomplished hundreds of victorious missions, contributing in releasing of the Romanian provinces, northern Bucovina and Bessarabia, occupied by the Soviet armed forces in July1940. The Romanian Air Force obtained between 1941 and 1944 a large number of 2000 victories. We proudly recall the war veterans and they keep remembering us, wearing their military uniform and decorations, that maybe Romania would have now had other boundaries if they did not beaten the ground and the skies of lands such as Russia, Hungary, Czech Republic and others destroyed by the Second World War. 031


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În anul 1940, bunicul meu, Gheorghe P. Gheorghe, era elev pilot la Şcoala Militară de Pilotaj, pentru a primi brevetul de pilot de război. După absolvirea şcolii, a fost înrolat în Flotila 2 Bombardament. Aviaţia de bombardament, din care făcea parte şi bunicul meu, a executat 107 misiuni cu 487 ieşiri avion în 374 ore de zbor. Acţiunile de luptă duse pe teritoriul Cehoslovaciei au durat din luna decembrie 1944 până la 12 mai 1945. În această perioadă au fost lansate 210 tone bombe asupra a 37 noduri de comunicaţie de cale ferată, 36 de concentrări mari de trupe, reuşind să distrugă 61 maşini auto, 3 tancuri, 30 trenuri, 6 baterii de artilerie antiaeriană. În dimineaţa zilei de 6 mai, după o puternică pregătire de artilerie şi aviaţie, a început ultima operaţie din timpul celui de-al doilea război mondial din Europa “Operaţia de la Praga”, la care Corpul Aerian Român a participat cu toatele forţele sale. În prima zi a ofensivei, aviaţia de asalt şi aviaţia de vânătoare au lovit rezistenţele hitleriste de la Holesov şi Hulin şi concentrările de trupe de la Prostejov.

In 1940, my grandfather Gheorghe P. Gheorghe was a pilot student at the Military School of Pilotage, in order to receive the pilot certificate. After graduation he was enrolled in Bombardment 2 Flotilla. The Bombardment Aviation which my grandfather was a part of, executed 107 missions with 487 aircraft routes during 374 hours of flight. The battle held on the territory of Czechoslovakia lasted from December 1945 to may 1945. During this period of time there were launched 210 tons of bombs on 37 railway communication nodes and troops, managing to destroy 61 cars, 3 tanks, 30 trains, 6 anti-aircraft artillery batteries. On the morning of may 6, after a serious artillery and aviation preparation, the last operation of the Europe Second War began "Prague Operation", where the Romanian Air Force participated with all the forces available. In the first day of the attack the fighter aircraft hit the Hitler resistance from Holesov and Hulin and the troops Prostejov.

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Efecte asemănătoare a avut şi atacul formaţiilor Grupului 1 bombardament din care făcea parte şi echipajul bunicului meu, Gheorghe P. Gheorghe, asupra garniturilor de tren militare hitleriste din gara Prostejov, în urma căruia s-au produs incendii şi explozii. La 9 Mai 1945, sub loviturile concentrice ale forţelor Naţiunilor Unite, Germania nazistă a fost silită să capituleze necondiţionat, astfel cel de-al II-lea Război Mondial declanşat de axa Berlin - Roma - Tokio, în anul 1939, a luat sfârşit în Europa. Pierderile armatei române în cel de-al Doilea Război Mondial 1939 - 1945 au fost de peste 850 de mii de militari morţi – răniţi şi dispăruţi, iar din 1944 - 23 august până la 25 octombrie acelaşi an 62.000 militari, pagube materiale şi mari distrugeri comise de armatele germane şi hortiste ungare.

The attacks of the Bombardment Group 1 that included my grandfather's crew had similar effects on the Prostejov train station, producing fire and explosions. On May 9, 1945 after the concentring blows of the United Nations, the Nazi Germany was forced to surrender unconditionally, as a result, the Second World War ended in Europe. Romania also takes place among the victorious states. Romanian army losses in the Second World War 1939 – 1945 counted over 850000 deaths, injured and disappeared, and from August, 1944 to October 25, counted 62000 soldiers, material losses and huge destructions committed by the German and Hungarian armies.

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O projektu / About the project


Projektom Pričam ti priču Škola za umjetnost, dizajn, grafiku i odjeću Zabok uključila se u Akademiju srednjoeuropskih škola (ACES), te je partnerstvom sa Srednjom školom primijenjenih umjetnosti iz Sarajeva (BiH) i Liceul de Arta iz Buzaua (Rumunjska) odlučila učvrstiti veze između škola i lokalnih zajednica, odnosno, domova za starije i nemoćne, ali i stvoriti nove veze između učenika umjetničkih škola ovih triju zemalja. Svaka škola je u suradnji s domovima za starije i nemoćne osobe sakupila priče njihovih štićenika koje će spasiti od zaborava ilustriranjem i objavljivanjem zajedničke slikovne knjižice pod nazivom Pričam ti priču. Svi sudionici projekta njegovim će zadaćama ostvariti zajednički cilj ovogodišnjeg ACES programa, odnosno, izgradit će mostove u društvu volontirajući u domovima za starije i nemoćne, gdje će njihovim štićenicima pokazati da nisu zaboravljeni i da iz njihovih priča o djetinjstvu i mladenaštvu mogu jako puno naučiti o prošlosti svoga kraja. Slušanjem će se stvori nove stare priče koje će ispričati zajedno učenici triju zemalja i štićenici svih uključenih domova. Najosnovniji i najmoćniji način kojime se povezujemo s drugima je slušanje. Samo slušanje. Možda je najvažnija stvar koju ikada pružamo drugima naša pažnja... Rachel Naomi Remen

School of Art, Design, Graphics and Clothes Zabok (Croatia) has become one of the 105 schools whose projects were awarded in the 2011 project competition of the Academy of Central European Schools (ACES) whose overall theme was: Building bridges in societies volunteer in your communities. Together with the School of Art from Sarajevo (Bosnia nd Herzegovina) and Liceul de Arta from Buzau (Romania) the project Telling a Story was applied to the contest and was successfully accepted by the ACES board. Telling a Story is the project within which students from these three countries will collect, illustrate and publish typical or forgotten stories of their communities in a booklet titled Telling a Story. The stories published in the booklet will be told to the students by the people who live in old people's homes in their communities. The project's main goal is to establish contacts and cooperation between schools and old people's homes, that is, to broaden the volunteering experience of the students by visiting and spending time with elderly citizens of their communities. However, through this project students from three different countries who all attend art schools will also exchange experience and knowledge among themselves thus building bridges outside their own countries. The stories will be heard and then retold in a new way by all participants, young and old, as an inspiration to all of us to have an open mind and open heart to things we have already labelled as outdated and irrelevant. The most basic and powerful way to connect to another person is to listen. Just listen. Perhaps the most important thing we ever give each other is our attention… Rachel Naomi Remen

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Impressum Izdavač / Publisher Škola za umjetnost, dizajn, grafiku i odjeću Zabok Urednik / Editor Nikola Sinković Uredništvo / Editorial BIH Amela Ajanović / Marija Pudarić, Benjamin Panjeta, Admir Šurković HR Barbara Hanjilec, Carmen Bačura Potočić, Sonja Keča / Ivana Grbec, Klara Vitković, Sara Vrgoč, Vesna Munđer, Ivana Funtek, Samanta Petruša, Jelena Benger, Valerija Djanješić, Kristina Košec, Željka Malbaša, Barbara Micek, Marta Čaržavec RO Alina Scarlat / Adriana Gheorghe, Andreea Lăcătuş Web stranice / Web site www.pricastoy.com Nikola Vidović Tisak / Printed in Škola za umjetnost, dizajn, grafiku i odjeću Zabok CIP zapis dostupan u računalnome katalogu Nacionalne i sveučilišne knjižnice u Zagrebu pod brojem 799261 ISBN 978-953-96996-5-7

Škola za umjetnost, dizajn, grafiku i odjeću Zabok

Licuel de Arta Margareta Sterian


789539 699657 9

ISBN 953-96996-5-7

Pričam ti priču / Telling a story / Eu vă spun o poveste


Pričam ti priču