At Sip Coffee Bar, the gregarious sculptor Zoran Mojsilov introduced himself and sat down beside me. He’d noticed me taking in some of his works in progress in his yard across the street. He asked if any stood out, and I mentioned one. He is constantly working on commissions, and I see his sculptures around town. He referred to us both as “grey-heads” as we chatted about the Old World, compared notes on Yugoslavia in the 1970s, and agreed socialism can be good.
