Confessions on the dancefloor 2014 style

I'm back in my beloved village, enjoying all the small things, after a month of hard labour. My hands smell like ilford fixer (god knows why), the local joks are dancing in almost empty bars and things are as usual, only less crouded. Gastouni feels very pleasant this year, especially since it comes without any anxiety. New bars open, that play lists from kasetophono, but when you need your usual dose of bad greek music, the old ones are still there. I might even get my camera out this year. Let's see...


Underneath it all

People have certain particular characteristics, don't they? But you never notice them until you start having stronger feelings about them. Be it friendship, love or even hate. And they become essential to your way of seing them. I'm talking about the little things. Like dipping your fingers in a glass of alcohol while you're drinking it or making a vowelless sound in the end of a phrase when you're perplexed. Things that you love learning about someone. To see who is hiding underneath it all. There will be a sequel to this


Spring in the city

These days have been super busy and mostly happy, which have led me to not posting here. This Spring has been one of a kind. Work, building, flirting, fighting, coffees, saying goodbye, welcoming new things. The festivals ain't here yet though. The one thing I haven't done in a very long time is shooting seriously. But we can't have it all, can we?

The future looks pink right now.


Living near a strip club

This post should've been full of words to cover up for the absence. But after long hours of suffering and organising and creating there are hardly words left. My life has been going with helluva rythms lately. So, here's for your enjoyment:


One's achievements

(being 24 is quite dull but this is something I'm proud about)


The beginning of all stories

I've noticed that not writing in my blog for some time probaly means one of two things: either I'm blantantly happy or extremely busy. This case was the second, with some anxious sickly blues added. But I'm fine now.
I'm turning 24 in four days. It not a signature age and I won't get a coup-de-blues. But I guess I've learned a lot through it. I've been depressed, happy, extremely angry, bored, done things very important for the rest of my life, felt like a teenager again, forgiven people and situations, got my self esteem back, admitted a lot of things. I'm at a good point for my life.
Some days ago, I've decided to stop telling stories and start living them again. Today seems to tell me that they're still necessary. To help people keep going on.
In the end, is tragedy worse than mediocrity? Think about it... and good night.


Playing cupid

...has been my thing since I remember my preteen self. Talking about love and giving a helping hand for its realisation has always been my thing. A little talk here, a little situation arranging there, done. Or not. Experiencing love through everyone elses love story can be amazing, can't it? Otherwise we'd never read romance novels. But it can be quite difficult if your own love life keeps your hands full. And also, if it has made you experience lost friendships, ugly misuderstandings, too much involvement. I had stopped playing cupid for a very long time and also for very good reasons. But time has betrayed me once again...

(my new pride)


The first cockroach of the year and other stories

This year has been as charged in events as any other sofar, but, being liberated from the semi-calvinism that ruled the last four, counts the biggest times of laughter with friends. Seing your graduation coming closer can make you do a lot of foolish things. Bt it can also lead you to having countless, well deserved fun. The first cockroach of the year, which I've seen dead near my appartment building's staircase looks like a warning. "Careful with the fun, sis' it's not over yet and it needs hard labour". But still, it's a long way to having fun in the making.


Been there, done that

It's a nonsense post, de facto. Looking at torn photographs never helps, that's a fact. And yet, it can remind you of what you've done right and what wrong. Shit happens. But it's still under controll. Good night to all of you


A certain sensitive Thursday night

It seems that this city won't see winter this year. So, with your upper cover open, you can roam around. I was always one of the curious kind. Three rooms are lit in this appartment building. Why is there a blue one? And what are people doing inside? Taking a peek at others- imagining what their life looks like. Keeping yourself from looking back even though you know something delirious is going on. Smelling the heavy perfume of a late night female wanderer; one that wears a printed skirt and high heels and you'll probably never again notice. Maybe that kind of curiosity is the one that brought me to photography. Another night bites the dust. Blink and the new day will come.