We are making photographs to understand what our lives mean to us.

(Ralph Hattersley)

Who are you, the man in the tent?

I find it more and more difficult to separate photography from life, because photography comes from life, from what I am, what I do, what I think, what I love, what I experience. I am also looking more and more for meaning, purpose, content in photography. It is no longer just about light, composition and a beautiful motif. More and more I am asking myself where God is leading me through photography and where I can lead others through photography. 

When you start out, you're excited about all the new things - the equipment, the technical settings, learning the art - but as you mature, you start to question the meaning of what you're doing. And you start on a different path. Because all art is broader and deeper than the initial impression of what you see or hear. Music and painting, if we give ourselves over to them, can speak of the incomprehensible in a way that no words can. Photography, on the other hand, reveals two truths: the truth of the world that is captured and the truth of the heart that has captured it. 

Through what I am, I share with others what I see, think and feel: the wonder of creation at sunrise in the high mountains, the frustration of social systems while walking through the slums, the joy of God at the exchange of rings during a wedding mass. Looking back, I can see how many insights my desire for photography has led me to, as it has driven me into the mountains, motivated me to travel, forced me to approach strangers, shown me the beauty of relationships within families, and inspired an admiration for local places, traditions and everyday tasks.

I capture the colours, the soul of the world, in photographs so that in their light a seed may germinate in you: an impulse of wonder, joy, sadness or anger. So that something in you awakens and something new grows. In these years, as you mature, as you grow in the Spirit, become the salt of the earth and the light of the world. For in our tents there is a lack of emphatic and warm relationships. Let the photographs encourage you to recognise the beautiful, to accept, to show solidarity and love, while at the same time being aware that there are still many tents in the world that have been torn down.

Žiga Lovšin

The earth is inhabited by humans, but humans live here only in tents. A tent is a family, a village, a community.*

Man was created in and out of the tent - out of communion, out of relationships.


man is and will always be looking for the tent – home – relationships.

Man finds himself in the reality of relationships. 

In relationships he discovers his gifts and his poverty, 

Love and darkness, he asks himself questions about the meaning and the goal of his path. 

In relationships man lives the essence of his existence – he loves and is loved. 

Relationships are a tent.

The tent is mobile, dynamic. You can pitch it anywhere, under the blue sky. It grows with you, it changes.

The tent is colourful. Its canvas is woven from our personal stories, the stories of the environment and culture we live in, the threads of Love that visited us on the way, and the scrapes of the darkness of this world.

The tent also collapses – when one fails to recognise Love and rejects it. 

From behind his lens, the photographer invites us to get to know the man in the tent - the man in relationships. As a curious traveller and attentive observer of creation, he takes us into the dynamism of family relationships and children's play, into the tenderness of a mother's care and the mystery of friendship, into the colourfulness of a child's smile and the smell of a home hearth, into the solitude of growing up and discovering one's mission. Through the harmony of colour and composition, she testifies to the harmony of relationships, and through photographs she also speaks of the destruction and senselessness that evil brings. 

It asks you and me the question: who are you, the man in the tent?

Maja Lovšin


A hearth is a place where the spirit, soul and body are nourished. It is a meeting place where we gather, tell stories, eat and, of course, cook a meal. It can be in the kitchen, outside the house or on the lawn where we camp. Its flame is in our hearts, even when we are not physically together. It warms us when we are far apart, when we are thinking of each other. It is a place of memory, not only of the stones and the embers, but above all of the relationships that were forged in its warmth. It is a centre of family and friendship.

Photos: Jodhpur (India, 2016) - Andes (Bolivia, 2015) - Kolkata (India, 2016).

Jodhpur, Indija, 2016.
Andi, Bolivija, 2015.
Kolkata, Indija, 2016.


The family is a place of closeness; of touches that heal and words that bless. It is a place where you are accepted fully - just as you are. Family embraces you when you need comfort and support. It is a centre of education and faith. When you grow up, your mother and father let you go to make your own. You watch and become a parent yourself: knowing that tender cares, sleepless nights, children's illnesses, accidents and adventures await you. And you accept it all with open arms. You open your tent to life.

Photos: Isfahan (Iran, 2018) - Jodhpur (India, 2016) - Jerusalem (Israel,  2018 ) - Isfahan (Iran, 2018) - Matanga (Madagascar, 2013).

Isfahan, Iran, 2018.
Jodhpur, Indija, 2016.
Jeruzalem, Izrael, 2018.
Isfahan, Iran, 2018.
Matanga, Madagaskar, 2013.


Friendship is a place where joy and sorrow are shared. It is a place of trust - often greater than between siblings. It is a place where ideas for adventures and pranks are born. It is a place where there is a lot of silliness and laughter, as well as seriousness and tears. Where we encourage each other and rest beside each other. There is plenty of room in this tent. The more we open it, the more people will enrich our communion.

Photos: Tehran, Isfahan and Tehran (Iran, 2018) - Bukhara (Uzbekistan, 2019).

Teheran, Iran, 2018.
Isfahan, Iran, 2018.
Teheran, Iran, 2018.
Bukhara, Uzbekistan, 2019.


The will of matter is to be ever more transparent. When light passes through matter, it becomes coloured. Colours testify to the soul of the world. Matter has a will of its own. The world has a soul. Things are alive and the universe has a heart. Colour is the flesh of the world. *

The joy of being is the prophecy of childhood. Children full of life are the flesh of the world. They colour the world with their light in such a way that even the most bitter adults can feel their heart. They still have a long way to grow, but the memory of it is in us. Do we still remember our childhood longings, or have they already drowned in the bitterness and overwhelm of adulthood?

Photos: Tashkent (Uzbekistan, 2019) - Aran (Iran, 2018) - Ukhum (Uzbekistan, 2019) - Thar Desert (India, 2016) - Farafangana (Madagascar, 2013) - Matanga (Madagascar, 2013).

Taškent, Uzbekistan, 2019.
Aran, Iran, 2018.
Uhum, Uzbekistan, 2019.
Puščava Thar, Indija, 2016.
Farafangana, Madagaskar, 2013.
Matanga, Madagaskar, 2013.


As you grow up, you realise that all great longings are realised in the simple everyday, at work, in the relationships you live every day. I used to think that I had to become a great leader who would change the world in a big way. But today I see the beauty in being a shepherd, a musician, a fisherman and a pastry chef. Someone is called to help others by unloading things under the roofs of the bazaar, another to transport them outside along muddy paths. Every profession, every path leads somewhere. And so life itself leads one day to death, which some people face every day when they purify the saints by fire.

Photos: Jerusalem (Israel, 2018) - Varanasi (India, 2016) - Asraf (Uzbekistan, 2019) - Vaingandrano (Madagascar, 2013) - Bukhara (Uzbekistan, 2019) - Isfahan (Iran, 2018) - Farafangana (Madagascar, 2013) - Istanbul (Turkey, 2015).

Jeruzalem, Izrael, 2018.
Varanasi, Indija, 2016.
Asraf, Uzbekistan, 2019.
Vangaindrano, Madagaskar, 2013.
Buhara, Uzbekistan, 2019.
Isfahan, Iran, 2018.
Farafangana, Madagaskar, 2013.
Istanbul, Turčija, 2015.


The light makes the contradictions dissipate into the spectrum of communion. Love is the power that creates harmony out of contrasts. The heart of the universe wants unity without mutilation.*

The harmony of relationships is reflected in the harmony of colours. Communion functions as a whole, as unity. Red on blue: God came among men so that all might be one. Orange on green: in the fruitfulness of interconnectedness, God's children lay the foundations of this tabernacle, the mosaic of communion. God as Father desires for his children unity without mutilation, coexistence without hatred. Here the youngest brothers are our greatest role models.

Photos: Jodhpur (India, 2016). 


Evil brings destruction and meaninglessness, inequality and discord. The rapacity that comes from fearing for oneself, for one's own existence, tears down many tents of people who are strangers to us. The conscience that we silence - even we who only indirectly participate in the global trade - does not have a strong enough voice to move us once we are entrenched in our comfort. We need to get out of ourselves, out of our armchairs, into the streets, to see the ruined lives with our own eyes.

Photos: Samarkand (Uzbekistan, 2019) - Kashan (Iran, 2018).

*from the book Barve sojnosti