Murva, Croatian word for mulberry tree, closely connects me to my roots, but also to my personality. It evokes memories. Its presence through the centuries in the Mediterranean area, and so my birthplace in the Dalmatian Zagora, makes it tame, so familiar. This is probably why it does not attract any particular attention, this tree, unobtrusive and modest. And its massive, compact and masculine trunk bears disproportionately thin, slender branches. It is like this connection is mirroring the power of a man and the tenderness of a woman. And it is this interweaving of presence and modesty, strength and sensitivity, which refers to me and my work.
Murva speaks of how I think and live. Murva is a reflection of my faith in naturalness, the origin of things and life. I see beauty in simplicity, irregularities, raw reality. My woman is natural-looking, real, and intense in her persistence; as strong as she is fragile, a dreamer as much as a realist. She walks the earth with ease and comfort, playful and free. However, in spite of curiosity, a certain modesty is present, which is expressed through her need for intimacy.