Mythology has always been somewhere inside of me. As a child, I loved reading Greek myths — stories of gods, heroes, and strange creatures that felt bigger than life, but at the same time so deeply human. Now, as an adult, I can see how much those stories still live around us. They mirror the same desires, struggles, and relationships we’re still navigating today. What fascinates me most is how queer many of those myths actually are — something we tend to forget, but which deserves to be remembered and retold.
One of the most important people in opening this part of my work was my friend Rastko. He was the first person I ever photographed naked, and he shared my fascination for mythology. In many ways, he was the one who noticed the mythological thread already present in my images and encouraged me to follow it. For almost a decade, we’ve created together, weaving bodies, masks, and poses into photographs that hint at something timeless, something sacred.
In 2016, I had the chance to bring this thread fully to the surface during an exhibition at Belgrade Pride. The project was called Antikus: The Gods and Heroes. I photographed different people, with different kinds of bodies, and reimagined them as figures from Greek mythology. The idea was simple but important to me: gods and heroes don’t have to live in marble or museums — they can live in us, in ordinary people, in queer bodies, in forms that don’t always fit the “expected.” This was the first time mythology became the center of my work, rather than just a passing reference through poses or costume fragments.
Since then, mythology has never left me. About a year ago, I began re-editing Antikus — revisiting those images with new skills and a new eye. The series of 12 portraits has grown darker, more textured, more epic. The black and white edits, the scratches and layered backgrounds, make the figures feel even more eternal and yet more vulnerable. They carry both the weight of antiquity and the urgency of today.
This blog is not yet about those re-edits (that will come later). Instead, it’s about reflecting on my own mythology journey — from childhood myths, through the intimate collaborations with Rastko, to Antikus, and now to a body of work that keeps mythology alive in a queer, contemporary language.
Because for me, mythology is not just something ancient. It is a living force. And in my work, it’s a way to remember that we are all capable of becoming gods and heroes, no matter what body we live in, no matter how the world sees us.
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