record billboard # 1

close to my flat there is this billboard where they put on new record posters every 2-3 weeks. I will be updating this picture every time they change it. There is a big fuss about the arctic monkeys at the moment.

clear morning

It was supposed to be snowing this morning in London. However, the sun decided to pay us a little visit afterall. It's so nice to wake up to a clear blue sky, even if its -1 outside.

bright, sparkling eyes

I met her when I was around 15-16, maybe younger. She was a year older than me and she had the prettiest face. Bright and sharp, her eyes were sparkling. She used to wear these bandanas over her short, blondish hair that intensified them. Different to most of the girls i had met before I was drawn into her. We kept staring at each other, someone introduced us and before long we started going out on these dates. I remember we walked and walked, talking about the things that were important to us back then, music and films. She was smart, cheerful and interesting. There was this bench (it is still laying there today) where we sat until it was late and we had to go home. I kept coming up with these random topics of conversation because I was too scared to kiss her, but I wanted her to stay. It was agonising. One particular night we went to the movies together to see ‘When a man loves a woman’. She had her legs hanging on the top of the front chair and as I was trying to get closer I had my legs underneath hers. Waiting, hoping rather for something to happen. It was all about getting as close to her as possible. At one point she dropped her legs and rested them on mine. The feeling is hard to describe but its still with me. As happy as one can be I guess..

Eventually I did kiss her at the end but things just did not work out between us. Soon after I left home to study abroad and so we lost contact. I would see her from time to time and I‘d always find out how she was doing. Not very good, seemed to be the answer the last couple of years. Today’s news I find hard to believe though…

No matter what, I think I will always remember her like she was when we met. Just like a little girl. I guess there is no earthly way of knowing what was in your heart when it stopped going.

για αλλους Ρωμαιους και αλλες Ιουλιετες.

-Oμως θα πρεπει να ειναι την πρωτη Παρασκευή της σεληνης. Τοτε αγοραζεις μια γαλαζια κορδελα που το μηκος της να ειναι αναλογο με το ονομα της κοπελας που αγαπας...Κανεις ενα κομπο και απαγγελεις το εδαφιο 5 της σουρας 30 που αλλιως την ονομαζουν ‘Βυζαντινη’ η ‘Ενετικη’ αν προτιμας...Αλλα προσεχε μην σφιξεις τον κομπο πριν τελειωσεις ολοκληρο το εδαφιο. Μετα δενεις την κορδελα στο χερι με το οποιο θα χαιδεψεις την κοπελα που αγαπας....και ολα θα πανε καλα.

-Και αν εκεινη δεν θελει να την χαιδεψω?

-Τοτε βρισκεις αλλη.....Υπαρχουν τοσες....

CM.

Buenos Aires

I have trouble remembering her name these days. It is not important anyway. Women should not really have names since they are all the same…She was travelling from Alexandria to Marseille with her mother. Her father’s wool-trading business had bankrupted and he had killed himself. She wore black, read songs, and spoke in the most simple of ways. She was pure and full of kindness. She gave me a wallet made out of fish-leather and I gave her my little golden cross that I had hanging around my neck since I could remember. 3 years later, at Buenos Aires I slept with some woman. In the morning I got my wallet out to pay her and she shouted something as soon as she saw it. I shouted something back when I noticed a small cross pinched on her robe…Maybe it was just a dream. All women seem to be the same now.

Taken from Nikos Kavvadias’s ‘Diaries’.
Photo by Sheila Smart.

Neighborhood #4 (7 Kettels)

..................................................................................

Neela jumped out of bed at 9.15 in the morning. She couldn't waste another minute in bed. Not on such a bright, sunny Saturday morning. After having a simple breakfast she put on a white hat, matching scarf and gloves and left her warm, tiny flat. She walked straight down to Mike's Cafe and got herself a large cup of a cappuccino to go. The way she likes to spend her time on days like these is on the front seat of the upper deck on bus route number 9. From one side of town to the other, sipping her coffee, just gazing out on the packed, colorful streets. She always sits on the left side. No reason, just likes that side better.
Erman had a heavy Friday night. He opened his eyes instinctively just after 10, only to realize that this was not his bed. He could kill for a Marlboro he thought. He got dressed quietly and walked out on the street. He caught the number 9 bus soon after, went upstairs, sat at the front seat, leaned his head against the window and closed his eyes. On the right side. They travelled through London exactly like that but not for a single moment did they notice each other. Each one being the exact opposite, perfect match for the other. That night they both listened to the same songs.

Neighborhood #4 (7 Kettels)

I am waitin' 'til I don't know when, cause I'm sure it's gonna happen then. Time keeps creepin' through the neighborhood, killing old folks, wakin' up babies just like we knew it would. They say a watched pot won't ever boil, well I closed my eyes and nothin' changed, just some water getting hotter in the flames.

blue silk

'Orange was the colour of her dress, then blue silk'. That is the name of this Jazz tune by Charles Mingus that i have been listening to a lot lately. This is what happens....i think.

It’s a rainy Saturday afternoon you see…absolutely pouring it down and she is running down the street. She is soaked, her hair is wet and sticky; her dress almost transparent; you can see the lining of her hips and the shape of her beautiful breasts. And she is carrying shopping bags, loads of them. Her legs are delicate and a small pond of rain-water forms around them as she walks into the coffee shop. First thing she does, takes a pack of smokes out of her tiny bag and lights up a cigarette. I mean she does not even look around. She has no acknowledgement for anyone else. She is looking outside where the rain keeps falling and people keep running. A few minutes pass like this. Quietly people are staring at the rain as its sound is arguing with the music coming from the shop’s old speakers. Then she slowly turns around, picks up her bags and walks over to the counter. A cup of steaming coffee is what she is having, and another cigarette. It had been such a warm, sunny afternoon she is thinking, she despises rain. Romantic-dreamer’s stuff….that’s what she thinks about rain. Herself is not into romance; her heart was once broken by a romantic dreamer you see. Now it’s all about different things. What if she is actually only pretending to hate rain and fairy-tale stuff? No..can’t be….Although...a gentle whisper of sadness floats around her exquisite face.
Suddenly the rain stops and the sun is back at all its glory. She stands up and walks out the door. Just like that. She has not even touched her coffee. As she is passing by the window the sun strokes her from the side.

Blue silk…underneath an orange summer dress.

Charles is sitting at the corner, by the window thinking about jazz. He gets up and walks out of the door. It smells like rain.

Εδω γυρω η θαλασσα πλεκει την μοιρα των ανθρωπων με τροπους ακατανοητους

Στην οικογενεια του Τζωρτζη μια παραδοση που κρατουσε επι 5 γενιες μεγαλωνε τους πιο τρανους καπετανεους του νησιου. Οταν ο καπεταν-Χριστος Φουντας ειδε τον τεσσαρων μηννων γιο του να σπαραζει στο κλαμα με την πρωτη βουτια στη κολυβηθρα της εκκλησιας ενιωσε ντροπη. Η γυναικα του καταλαβε πως ισως ειχε ερθει η ωρα να σπασει η παρδοσοση και δυσκολευτηκε να πνιξει μεσα της δακρυα χαρας και οχι λυπης.
Το χωριο βουηξε και ο Καπεταν-Χρηστος εκανε 6 μηννες να πατησει το ποδι του στο καφενειο. Το σημαδι ητανε ξεκαθαρο. Προσπαθησε ανελπηστα να συνφηλιωθει με την ιδεα οτι o γιος του δεν θα εβγενε στη θαλασσα. Δεν τα καταφερε ποτε. 16 χροννια αργοτερα, στις 16 Φεβρουαριου επιασε μια φοβερη φουρτουνα. Ο καπεταν-Χριστος δεν αφηνε ποτε τα δυχτια στα ανοιχτα οταν ειχε καιρο, και αψηφοντας τις συμβουλες των δικων του βγηκε να τα μαζεψει και δεν ξαναγυρισε.

'η θαλασσα ειναι ακαρδη και δολια, δεν συνχωραει ευκολα, επειδη της στερησα τον γιο μου..μου πηρε τον αντρα.'

Ο νεαρος Τζωρτζης κατηγορησε τον εαυτο του για τον θανατο του πατερα του. 6 μηνες αργοτερα μπαρκαρε στο φορτηγο Αρζεντινα.

Neighborhood # 1 (Tunnels)

And if the snow buries my, my neighborhood. And if my parents are crying then I’ll dig a tunnel from my window to yours, yeah a tunnel from my window to yours.You climb out the chimney and meet me in the middle, the middle of town. And since there’s no one else around, we let our hair grow long and forget all we used to know, then our skin gets thicker from living out in the snow.


Arcade Fire's album 'Funeral' is on constant repeat on my cd player. Absolutely mind-blowing record. Go find it and listen to it.