Poetic Movements

To snow is to enjoy laziness; to stay in, read the books, brew your coffee, play with the DSLR and mark your footsteps by the porch. And laziness is a key ingredient of creativity. Creativity comes at this moment of laziness, when you wander off to fantasies, just like snowflakes dance their way in the storming air!

We are drowning in darkness, but you say life flourishes even away from the light. I cannot find my way to serenity.

Το λίκνισμα του πλοίου νανουρίζει σώμα περπάτημα και βλέφαρα. / The ship's wobbling besleeps body pace eyebrows. Στην πορεία η Σαμοθράκη υψώνεται μπροστά μας κάστρο θαλάσσιο. / Along the way Samothraki rises in front of us a castle of the sea. Ο βυθός χωνεύει όνειρα βλέψεις βγάζοντάς μας απαλλαγμένους ρεαλιστές στα βράχια του · νησιώτες . / The depth takes in dreams aspirations taking us out discharged realists on its rocks; islanders. Στο τελευταίο φως του δειλινού αναμασώνται σύννεφα κύματα και γίνονται βοριάς καθάριος. / Under the last light of the eventide clouds waves ponder on to become the strongest norther. Παράλληλα της Παλαιάπολης θεοί δαίμονες σιγομουρμουρίζουν τώρα και από πάντα τον ρουν όλων μας και καθενός ξεχωριστά. / Siding Palaiapolis demon gods whisper now and since ever the path of us all and of separately each. Θεοί δαίμονες

Raindrops; and I fear consequences. A bag full of stars; but does it rain in paradise? Raindrops; your clothes full of dust. Raindrops of meaning bare; what is a home? 19 November 2018, Athens.

Αλάτι στα μαλλιά και λίγη θάλασσα · χέρια κύματα δροσοσταλίδες της αυγής · πού με πας; πώς πάω μακριά σου;                        τρέχει ο ορίζοντας. Νοέμβριος 2018, Σαμοθράκη – Αθήνα.

Have you ever noticed in Eastern European Time when it's no longer summer time and we are deprived of the sun that following the deep dark less darker dark less dark deep light blue opaque blue light blue there is a white shade a white cloth stretched across the sky and hanging above the mountains, before the azure comes and brings the sun one more day for even lesser minutes? Have you noticed the smokey looks of the eyes in the elusiveness of early mornings? Samothraki, November 2018. Photograph: landscape before winter comes; Samothraki, 8 October 2018. 

I. Warmth. Unknown warmth. As if birth has never occurred. Bodies like branches. I move & move, but never too much far away. Silent song primal tastes. The fog & the wolf the hug & the blood. The night falls as a dress over a naked body a dead body an unborn body. Breath across the starless darkness. II. Deep fog. A figure obscurely reaches out to apples springing from the womb of the earth. Who are these people? And what is their purpose? Showing up grasping at the solidified extension of the fields & hills. It’s November 3 rd . III. What is a home? Should it have you? Entail you? Remind of you? Is T his an imperative condition? Where is my home? And why should we - any “we” – expect a sky opening, when the sky constantly comes & comes & comes but never really reaches any place… IV. I can build up the world