a little place to call my own (art and fashion blog)

Split city. The crickets are so loud you can't hear neither the traffic nor the people. You can't hear  any of the usual urban sounds for that matter. You feel like the city has stopped being a city and has turned into something magical. The air is warm, the breeze from the sea is gentle and full of restlessness. From every courner the crickets sing their ode to the sun. Their song is stubborn and magnificent. When you eyes turn towards the sea, you feel as little bits of eternity are entering your soul. The city and the sea seem to be reaching to one another ever so gently, it makes you wonder do they crave for each other embrace. Your hair is full of sea salt and messy as it can be, but you couldn't care less. Summer has bewitched you with its song. Once again it has hypnotized you. What was that you were  worrying about? You can't remember. It does matter. All that matters is Split city. Now. Grad Split. Cvrčci su toliko glasni da ne čuješ ni promet niti ljude