The last days of this year are strange. Not stranger than usual, but still. We could call them "closing". Paying the bills, giving ends to stories that should have closed long ago, finding who's in and who's out for the next part of the trip. And betting, of course. Lucky games are part of the whole ending situation. You can never know the ending of the story if you don't try. Even if chances are against you.
The last days of 2013 are gonna be fun. And then we'll see...


Walking in high heels 'round Exarcheia and other paradoxalities

Ok, so this post is gonna consist of brief comments about those holidays.

1. I finally understood why I shoot nothing lately. It's because of my utter disinterest in almost everything that I go through. Been there, done that, shot that. And the digital camera (even my beloved x100s) doesn't help because it makes things more complicated. Change the white balance, change the iso, look at the picture, shoot it again... It's a bore. I so miss the good ol' days when I shot one or two pictures and actually saw them in a month or so. Things are going too fast nowadays. So, in the midst of trying to fix my general nihilism, I might also try to shoot digital like film. And we'll see...

2. Looking like your parents when you're only in your twenties is an alarming fact. Going to sleep early, being upset over casualties, skipping things with your friends is wrong even in their age. And, getting over the fact that it's disappointing for you, is it a bearable situation for them? I wonder.

3. This year smells nothing like christmas. Be it the thousands of homeless people on the streets (and the sweaters dressing the trees, not them, for Christs sake), my age or the sleeplessness, I haven't felt the utter joy yet. But the holidays ain't over anyway.

4. I'm getting onto very nice music. And even working. Oh, joy.

So, happy holidays everyone and I hope the next post will be less sarcastic. In-between phases are tough.


The pains of being snob at heart

It's a great post for late at night (while listening to songs that I've fished on facebook, another big hobby of mine). Since the days of this year are coming to an end (and I'm almost nothing but happy for that) I'd like to admit a sin of mine. Sometimes I'm being snob to the core.
Let's analyze snob, because it's a term that's often misunderstood. The word SNOB is made of the initials of the words Sine Nobilitate, which mean without nobility. It seems that it was first used in a prestigious university two centuries ago to distinguish the poorer students from the aristocratic ones. The meaning was soon inversed, and here we have today's word. Even though a snob is usually associated with the upper class and money, it is not always the case. Because a snob is most of all associated with pride. So, what about me?

I have a strange case of snobbism. I am a snob against the "exhibitionists". The ones who want to show you they have money, charm, knowledge. If one of those is around me, he'll never leave unharmed. You could say, sofar, so good. Noone actually likes those guys. So why the theatrics?

Because being snob never helps. Even though these people might be shitty, by snobbing them you could never change them. And snob is like an expansive illness: first you're against the ones who deserve it and then it widens. And let me tell you what happens when you're angry... oh, you've guessed right.

So, one of my new years resolutions would be to abolish snobbism. It's gonna be a tough one...


Y tu novia tambien

Things change. I've started listening to electronic music extensively. And many much more...


About the unexpected (and how to get over it)

Since a tender age, I've had a flair for the unexpected. Not believing in metaphysics has helped, but not quite. I've been wondering, "what if...this thing happens at that time". The thing is, it never does.
Waiting for something concrete to happen unexpectedly is absurd, anyways. So, what do you do?
First, if you truly believe in the unexpected, don't make plans (that doesn't apply generally) . Even if they become true, they'll always be less spectacular that the ones you've dreamt of. Second, if you truly don't believe in the unexpected, don't wait for it to change your life. There's no third. Just a song.




There is something amazing and scary at the same time with things we tend to do daily. I'm a person who gets bored easily but at the same time indulges in doing the same shit again and again. Confusing, isn't it?

For starters, that would be my cup of tea. When I have time at home, there's always a big one around. And when I say big, I mean around 0,3-0,5L. Probably green tea with some flavoring.A tiny tiny bit isn't drunk, to remind me that the cup is too big for tea.

Then, the web. Architects tend to be stuck on their laptops, but I think that I'm one step further than that. It keeps my away from books, which I dislike.

And, of course, cooking. I cook almost daily. Today, I managed to burn a bit of my stew once again. Stew is a food that still puzzles me.

In the end there's Tapas. The place where you can find me most of the nights. It become something of a guilty pleasure. I try to avoid going there and in the end I still find myself there, tidying up at the closing. What the hell?

I bet this was the king of nonsense posts. But there's something really mysterious about the things we swear to hate and still do. And doesn't everyone have them?


Just a few tips from a second time visitor and Vienna-lover

For starters, my tips are very subjective, but that's obvious, isn't it? So, let's begin.

1. find a place to stay in the centre, or at least at walking distance. Let's just say that I'm not an avid fan of the metro when it comes to tourism. You lose your sense of direction and all those amazing things you could see on foot. Plus, it usually costs you a lot of money. And in Vienna it's kind of superfluous to use it, since it's quite a small town and the usual sightseeing is done in a very short distance. Plus, you have the bonus of being able to walk home at night and not having to use the nightbus. And I know there are some very reasonably priced hostels close to the city centre.

2. Visit the museumsquartier. I've been in love with this pace since my first visit and it hasn't diminished ever since. Even if you're not very fond of museums (which is not my case), it has events, and restaurants and ateliers, and shops and amazing gluhwein in the winter months. A must see.

3. Learn a little german. I was always embarrasingly fond of my languages and thought I could conquer the world with them. But when I went to a lecture of n Austrian architect-writer I couldn't understand a thing. And then, when the conversation with people I've met here went to difficult topics, I comfortably switched to english. But there was a problem with that: not everyone was fluent in english! so, if you'll just do tourist talk around here your english will probably be fine. But if you have other aspirations, it wouldn't hurt knowing a word of german or two.

4. You need cheap, plenty and delicious food? go to dewan! It is a place near the university and very close to the freud museum, in which you can fill (and refill, if you want) your plate with different kinds of pakistani food. After 3 days of expensive eating, this was heaven.

4. Visit the musa. After three days of extensive museum-visiting (when I wasn't busy with the symposium), I can assure you that this was the best art exhibition I saw in Vienna. And the entrance is free.

5. Be wary of the christmas markets (if it's that time of the season). Having been to this kinds of things a lot since I was a kid, I am quite sure that the Viennese ones are on the expensive side (I mean, gluhwein for 4.50? no way!). And since I know that all those chocolate strawberry sticks must look amazing when you first see them, I wouldn't say "don't buy a thing". Just try to be frugal.

6. Walk! As I sais in point 1, Vienna is a small town. And a very beautiful one at that. So walking or biking is the best way to see it. I believe ther are even some free bikes in some corners of the city (but you'd have to check that with someone who's actually tried to use one). There are many roads to take. My favorite one would be from the Museumsquartier to Votivkirche via Herrengasse and Stephansplatz. Another one could be a tour of the Universities, from die Angewandte to the University of Vienna, via the polytechnical school. Or anything else.

7. Drink Booze. I'm not saying you must do that. But sofar Vienna has passed my alcohol test with distinction. It has great local wine, even when it's cheap, great beer and great cocktails. Visit the Loos bar and you won't be disappointed. If you're interested in Architecture, even better. I'm not even talking about the gluhwein, because it's an obsession of mine.

8. Go home early. Clarification: when I say early, I mean by Greek standards. Because I always believe in "doing it like the locals" and being sober while everyone else is already dead drunk is never pleasant.

So, that's it from me. And 9. Don't forget to have a nice time!


Second time, pretty time

I've started writing this blog the summer of my first year in university. One of the first posts like, four years ago was about our trip to Vienna. Guess what: I'm back.
Thouroughout these years I've been to a lot of places and to some of them a lot of times. But I've always longed coming back here. And I jumped to the first opportunity that I had (which I hope is as promising as it looks like).
Truthfully, it wasn't the right time for a trip at all. But maybe the scenery, the homely feel, the different experiences, the gluhwein (exageration, especially since it's not that cold) will help me settle down. The gigantic schnitzel that I ate in the evening definitely helped a bit.
So,I'm leaving you to sleep because a long day of museums, delicacies and symposiums awaits me. too-loo!



Inability to perform as expected. Sleeping late. Walking on thin soil. Having a smoke smelling exactly like it shouldn't. Being sleepy, because you sleep too late.

Good night. Good morning.


Living like a first year again. And getting over it.

The word "last" is a tough one usually. One that makes you want to enjoy it a lot more than all the previous ones. One that makes you anxious about what will be the "first" that comes after the "last". One that can make your head go round. It happened to me too. Being the last year of university life, I found myself partying like crazy. And going out on every occasion. And starting a bunch of new things. And somehow I found myself dazed and confused from all this shit. I understand that anxiousness can lead you to a lot of shitty decisions, but I couldn't concentrate on what I believed anymore. Plus the fact that I'm not in the end of the path but a mere step ahead. And then, I decided to calm down. Because, in the whole anxious rythms, I comletely confused what I wanted to prioritize. Plus, let's be realistic, it costs a lot to be a first year again. :P

PS. I hope the next thing I'll show you here will be a photograph and not my shitty personal situations



One of the shitty things about capitalism and even more of neoliberalism is the mess that becomes of time. You have no time to think, no time to rest, no time to love. It is a system incompatible with human rythms.

And when you've got no time, except the one you work or the one you despair over not working, you have to squeeze everything else in the little time that remains. So, you have to hurry everything. Eat fast, drink fast, get drunk fast, fuck fast, sleep fast, wake up fast, fall in love fast. Except you can't. If you eat fast, you'll get a stomachache and you won't be able to digest for the rest of the day. If you drink fast you'll puke. And let's not even talk about sleeping fast or falling in love fast: they are nonexistent.

I'd like to live in a world where I'd have to work less and do something creative. Where waking up wouldn't be the end of the world and drinking wouldn't always lead to getting drunk. Where I'd take my time to eat and love wouldn't be connected with pressure.

End of a week with a lot of events.


About mood swings, expectations and disappointment

Strange post, considering that I've just returned from a very fulfilling weekend. But mood swings are a tough phenomenon, anyway.

The first thing you can do is accept their existence. Things aren't always rose-colored in our minds and in our environments, so being in a 24/7 joy would be abnormal. The gravity of the feeling depends on the person though. As does the frequency.

One could stay there but I'm not a believer of easy solutions. Next step would be get over it. But not in the form of ignoring it. Getting over it, for me means learning to live with it and not letting it get you out of track. Having violent mood swings feels like walking on a thread. One false step and you're hanging upside down. But, with the right push from the people around you, you can do it.

As for disappointments, they've been a very frequent occurence in my life for the past three years. I could even say that the past year has been a series of massive discouragement. These might be tougher than mood swings, because they teach you not to expect anything, in order not to get hurt. And what life, what struggle can exist without expectations?

Anyway, I'm done with the foolosophy for today. Let's catch a glimpse of the weekend.


Strange days, wonderful days

It's the time of the season (beloved song whose lyrics are always around in this blog) when you don't know if you have to wear boots or sandals. You get mistaken again and again. You start running when others are walking and appreciating the things around you. Eventually, you crash against a wall. You live with anxiety, everyone does nowadays. But you have to slow down, because otherwise you can't think. And these are tricky days which need a lot of brainstorming.

Shorts and boots, concerts, festivals, madness, alcohol, denial, laughter, decisions, arrogance, fatigue, cheesecake, birthdays, photography, this is what my days have been all about. Next wish: inner peace. Tough one.


First things first

I've had my first tooth filling today. And a job prospect. And a gazillion things to talk about, as usual. But it's only gonna be questions today.

Are we happy? are we making ourselves unhappy? are we fretting over nonsense? are we not concious enough? Are we afraid? do we have to hide our desires? would it be better if we all got on the streets until the end? How do we approach people that have left our camp? how do we fulfil the void? is sex a matter of concern, or is it just a sentimental defect? Do we leave people or do they leave us, or maybe both? Do we want to smash the security light next door or do we want to put it in our home too? Who's sane anymore? In the end, is it better to dig around facts or to let them be? This could be an eternal list of cries of agony. But one can answer on his/her own. And thus, humankind still remains. We'll see




I recently rememberd my best date sofar. It was in a chinese restaurant, we argued over metaphysics and started dating three days later. Those were good days. But I don't really want to pout over them or complain about now. Being glad for your past but also over it is something that cannot be neglected. It's a big step towards mastering your fear. Because in reality you're chicken, as Holly Golightly loved saying.
If you've already decided the course of events, how can you live your life? So, cheers to tomorrow. To the unexpected. To not being chicken anymore. To akwardness.



About job seeking and other calamities

The topic has been quite recent on this blog because it's been quite recent in my life too. Imagine being an almost graduate of architecture school. And then put this in the context of Greece 2013, in the midst of crisis. Tough, huh? For the moment, I haven't found a thing. Truth be told, I also haven't looked all that much. But things ain't gonna be shiny, for all I know. I've made two kinds of CVs and I might have to make a third one. Hello hell.

It's kind of a nonsense post but I bet it's the start of a serie...   


Losing part of your tooth and of your sanity

Yesterday, part of my tooth stuck on a chewing gum and left to see the world on it's own. I was utterly shocked, particularly because my teeth had never shown any kind of defect before, no matter how badly I treated them. But I guess there must be a first time for everything.
These days have been...quite paranoid. Why are we all looking for the same thing, yet why is it so complicated?  


Cold feet

This used to be one of my favorite songs in my pre-teens. It was part of the music playing on waky fm, that is now long gone. I've discovered it anew when the age of the internet made it easier.
While smoking a cigarette, wearing my old sweater with a monkey on it (damn teenage fashion) and having cold feet I've realised that summer has indeed moved on. And here we are. Let's hope the best for tomorrow.


Finding a job is the new finding love

...and it's amazing (in a bad way) how those two things ressemble each other.
I was recently thinking that in every office I apply for a job, they'd prefer me as a client. The resemblance with "I like you...as a friend" is scary. Plus there's all the headache and the heartache and the rejections. I'm kind of a romantic, I won't object about that. But honestly, if my professional life gets worse than my personal, it'll be an achievement. And that's how little me understood crisis better than ever.



Do not accept it... it's fine but... you're waiting for something


Walking without crutches is tough but we'll make it, I swear

It's quite strange and dazzling at the same time, seeing how much people can change. And how the conversation changes, too. In the summer of growing up, this could be the best ending. Two people recognising the shit they've been doing all along and moving ahead. You don't really need to marry a gay friend, nor compromise in a relationship that's not moving, even though you're struggling for it. You don't have to use people to make you feel better for a little while. You have to move on an learn how to do it alone, or with a little help. It will work. It has to. And then comes the balance. We'll really make it, wont we?


A little fairytale about romance

(in Greek we call it κατάθεση ψυχής)

Νομίζω έχουμε όλοι πλέον αποδεχτεί ότι δε μπορώ να τελειώσω μια ιστορία άνω των τριων σελιδών. Αρχές επί αρχών μυθιστορημάτων ξεκινούν στο κεφάλι μου, μετά στο χαρτί και τελειώνουν- στο κεφάλι μου και μόνο. Η μέση έχει γίνει γαργάρα. Κοιτώντας τα, ένα μόνο μου προκαλεί τη διάθεση συνέχειας και νιώθω ότι έχει μια κάποια αρτιότητα σαν έργο. Δεν είναι όμως αυτό που θέλω να πω πλέον. Όταν ξεκινάς να γράφεις μια ιστορία στην 3η λυκείου και την ξαναπιάνεις στο 5ο έτος υπάρχει ένα χάσμα στο ενδιάμεσο. Και σε αυτό που είσαι και σε αυτό που λες. Ας ελπίσουμε λοιπόν ότι θα καταπολεμήσεις το κακό συνήθειο να γενάς καλές ιδέες και να τις παρατάς στην αρχή- μέση με τη φωτογραφική σου ενασχόληση τουλάχιστον. Αλλά τα γραπτά μου, παρότι μικρότερα σε μέγεθος, δεν έχουν πάψει να υπάρχουν.Γιατί? γιατί ειναι μια μορφή ψυχανάλυσης- κατάθεσης ψυχής- λύτρωσης.
Τι σημαίνει λοιπόν ο τίτλος αυτού που θα μπορούσε να είναι ένα σατιρικό αλλά και λυρικό δοκίμιο πάνω στη σημερινή κοινωνία και τις ανθρώπινες σχέσεις- αλλά δε θα γραφτεί ποτέ μάλλον.  Σχολιάζει, που λέτε, τη δυσκολία εύρεσης ανθρώπου που να αποκαλέσει κανείς το άλλο του μισό. Έχοντας μια αλαφροϊσκιωτη μάνα, αυτό το ζήτημα πάντα με απασχολούσε. Υπάρχει το άλλο σου μισό; Είναι ένας άντρας με τον οποίο διατηρείτε μονογαμική, σεξουαλική σχέση (κατ’ εμέ ο ορισμός της σχέσης) ή οτιδήποτε λιγότερο; Όχι άντρας ή όχι μονογαμία ή όχι σεξ ή συνδυασμός. Ο τίτλος ξεκινάει από μια απ’ τις μακροβιότερες μου θεωρίες. Ότι, δηλαδή, το σεξ σκοτώνει το μακροχρόνιο. Κοινώς, το άλλο σου μισό είναι ένας άνθρωπος ανεξαιρέτως φύλου με τον οποίο δεν διατηρείτε σεξουαλική σχέση, αλλά μπορείτε να συνεννοηθείτε με τα μάτια, να γελάσετε με τα ίδια ηλίθια αστεία και να είναι εκεί για σένα πάντα. Until death do us part που λένε και οι Άγγλοι.
Σκεφτείτε πόσο πιο εύκολο θα ήταν υπό αυτές τις συνθήκες. Να μένετε μαζί, να είναι ο ένας το αποκούμπι του άλλου και κατά τ’ άλλα να έχει καθένας τη ζωή του. Στα 40-50 τι άλλη εναλλακτική έχεις; Τη σχέση εκ συμβιβασμού. Αλλά αναρωτιέμαι: έστω ότι μέχρι τότε (η τρομακτική ηλικία μου) δεν έχεις βρει τον τέλειο άντρα, τον άντρα το σωστο (κλπ) τον μεγάλο έρωτα, γιατί να βρεις έναν μέτριο για να σου καλύπτει τις ανάγκες για συντροφιά, δευτερευόντως για σεξ; Μάλλον οι γιαγιάδες που πλέκουν παρέα είναι το πρότυπό μου.
Αν ήσουν gay θα σε παντρευόμουν, λοιπόν. Και θα ζούσαμε ζωή και κότα. Εγώ θα γελούσα με τα βρακιά σου κι εσύ με τα ντεμοντέ του δικού μου γκόμενου. Και όταν ένας από μας χώριζε, θα λιώναμε στον καναπέ με παγωτό και χαζοταινία παρέα. Και θα σε πήγαινα στο γιατρό κι εσύ στον Παρλιάρο για γλυκά. Και θα τσακωνόμασταν για το πιστολάκι, τη μουσική, την εκπομπή, αλλά ποτέ γιατί «Δεν μου φαίνεται ότι με θέλεις αρκετά». Και οι γείτονες θα μας κοιτούσαν περίεργα. Και θα τρώγαμε πρωίνο μαζί με την κακιά κάλτσα απ’ το κρεβάτι χωρίς άγχος. Και δε θα χρειαζόταν να προσπαθήσουμε να είμαστε όμορφοι, ελκυστικοί, αφύσικοι. Και θα αγαπούσαμε ο ένας τον άλλο με τα ελαττώματά του, έτσι όπως μόνο οι φίλοι ξέρουν να κάνουν. Και θα ήταν για πάντα. Και θα ήμασταν αστείοι στα αστεία και σοβαροί στα σοβαρά. Και δε θα πατούσαμε ο ένας τον κάλο του άλλου παρά μόνο –ίσως- για να συνεχίσει τη ζωή του. Όταν κάνω αυτή την περιγραφή, σε ωθώ να εκτιμήσεις του φίλους σου παραπάνω, έτσι δεν είναι?


Something new, something borrowed, someone (a little bit) blue

And somehow like this, my summer is over. Not oficially, but leaving Gastouni always means that the new year is about to begin. In a way that I barely understood, I've passed from "I'd like one more month of vacation" to "Autumn, here I come". This summer hasn't been full of great and life-changing events, though it held some bad ones. But it has been quite full of little surprises. New relationships are up and coming. Old ones are changing and some don't even matter that much anymore. But in the end, what matters most is how you feel about all of that. And, come on, I can take you.

And, feeling a bit nostalgic, I shot this picture today. It's in the same swing I had shot this four years ago. I was a toddler then (laughs). A good year to all of us.


Refreshing your lipstick is the new everything

It's the time of the season when my wish has come true. I'm not bored anymore but I can't really follow the speed of the things happening. "What's your name? who's your daddy?" is something that doesn't need to be said around here, since everyone knows everyone. And the heat makes it all more dramatic. But who the hell cares. It's the end of the summer and anything goes, 'cause things are geting serious any time now.



A mature summer

Cocktails. Beaches. Nights. Raki. Flirts. And then, you realise that they're not your top focus anymore. The way it is happening is nothing to be happy about. But, hand-in-hand with big, vital problems comes our maturing.

And, btw, happy birthday blog! It's been around for four years now and it's definitely matured too...


Drama queen

Truthfully, lying around and reading manga on pay-per-minute internet ain't very wise. But since my plans for the evening were ruined, I won't be much more creative than that.

Imagine now a girl... she wears heavy perfume, red lipstick and a black dress. She's a heavy smoker and drinker. She hangs around in mysterious places and lives deep and untained love stories. If you recognise this persona, you might have heard about her before in this blog. She ain't real. She could be the character of a movie, or a book with a very twisted plot. Sometimes I tend to confuse myself with her, waiting for my next love to come dramatically or dramatising the past ones. But when you're stuck on your couch wearing the dress you first got confessed into (and that was a loooooong time ago), sweating after midnight in August, you can't help but see things cynically. Life ain't a fairytale, not even a dark one and the world isn't turning around you. And you cannot expect things to fall onto your lap exactly when you need them. What you can do with all this frustration, though, is creation. Hell, what would I become without it.

(this photo was shot at a time of big frustration six months ago. I don't usually shoot photos like this, but I think that the way it depicts the Berlin tower is nice)



and the living is easy. Back from the camping trip, on a short break before the second island of the summer and few hours away from a timeless event, I'm lazying out on the couch, thinking about the year that's coming. Soon, the conversations are gonna shift from eternal summer loves, cocktails, the gym, swimming and beauté to elections, famine, revolts, employment, decisions. We're already past the middle of the summer but we're not saying "hello winter yet". I can't help but sense that the big things are yet to come. For now, lazying out in couches and chaise-longues seems the right thing to do to recharge for the long year that's coming...



Cocktails. Driving lessons. The sea. My cousins. The fucking heat. That's what my summer has been all about recently. It's still a bit dull here in Gastouni, but the dullness is sometimes better than the drama. And I can sense the last one near us. The summer is still going on... And, bu the way, the roommates are also still going on, even though I'm thinking about ending this project quite soon, because I feel like I've grown out of it. And here is Kallia and Bella.


Transitions. yet again.

I remember, when I was smaller, I used to love travelling, escaping reality, changing sceneries...I can't say I'm on the same level nowadays. People around me are finding new lovers, graduating, changing houses, cities, countries, losing their precious ones, finding new people, dreaming of the future. And I do too. What we once had in mind as solid is now slowly turning  to ashes. I'm happy and sad about it, at the same time. What could we have done differently? Is there any reason to wonder now? And what does the future hold for us?

Who knows. The only thing you can do is hope. And fight. And adapt. And set your limits. And all over again.


Gastouni next level

Back in the village, things are changing yet again. The title is a very accurate description of my cousin about what's going on in Gastouni: tablets for teaching, chic one-pieces on the beach, phone appications against the "bad eye", crime after hours. This summer doesn't seem spectacular just yet. But with all those people around in Greece...who knows. We'll see


Despicable me

It happens eventually, even though it doesn't on a daily basis. It usually does when you're so full of yourself for a period. I'm talking about feeling realy and truly despicable. It is usually accompanied by people telling you what you've done, because you don't usually realise it. And then it comes and gives you a blow. Truly you can't be doing great all the time.  There surely are times when you hurt others and you don't even realise it. And when you do, you feel despicable. Thinking about it might help. Thinking before you speak might help even more. But it will probably never go away for good. Despicable me, in the end is a way to get down on earth and realise what you're doing to people.


Postpartum depression

I'm writing from a mac today (that's not mine) and it feels akward. I've presented my research project today, at last. I thought I'd feel happy. At first I felt satisfied. But that quicky turned to ashes. How can you feel happy when almost noone can feel happy with you? When you know that your lax summer will be their trip in hell? And let them be. But how can you feel happy about those other ones who were with you but one step forward and are leaving for the big bad world? where they may as well easily leave all the things you've believed together? Truth is, even though I was shouting all those things about wanting to end this, leave etc. I'm fucking afraid. And now that I've delivered the first baby, I'm suffering from post partum depression.



I don't know what country you're from, it's nearly impossible to not have noticed the shutdown of the Greek public tv (ert), the one I was mentionning in my last post. Here in Patras things are calmer. The station can broadcast locally and we haven't yet seen policemen around. There are times when I want to be in Athens, in the middle of everything that's happening. But I would probably never have the chace to leisurly chat with people I just met that I had here. And therefrom, a new project is born. It's not ending any other. But I have found the urge to photograph again.




...when you at least expect it.

It's been busy lately. I'm writing my thesis, due in 14 days, they are closing the public television and everything is up and coming. We're all in a panicky state lately. But, in the middle of all this (which is my first preocupation from the moment it's started) I found something that had gone missing a long time ago: my inspiration. What we're living now will be a big historical event in some years and my urge for photography has come once again.

And today, after a very long time, I shot a picture that I liked. It's neither important nor serious. But it's fine for a new start.



Once upon a time (not far back, really) I thought that I wanted to fall in love. And that was my greatest trouble. What a kid I was. It's been more than a year since that, and really, what does falling in love means? You do, and then what? do you live happily ever after? Or are you in a continuous suffering? Nobody ever tells you that. Even fairytales end in weddings. And is happiness something you wait for Minerva to send you? Or do you have to fight for it?
I was a big idealist at some point. I thought that all my troubles would go away if I fell in love. But recently, I understood that it's not about love. It's about happiness. You can be happy even if your heart doesn't skip a beat every time you see the other person. If it weren't like that we'd need to change partners for forever. And who do you need in your life to be happy? Are friends enough? Are they even more than enough?
They say that you can't appreciate something unless you lose it. It's true. And they even say that there's not only one answer to a question. That's also true. But, concerning some things, you have to be sure to give an answer. So I'll wait. Final station: Happiness.


Confessions of a dancefloor in Patras (with blood sweat and tears optional)

Sometimes I can't understand myself, really. But what I can understand the least are some others. The thing that I like less in this world, I think, is uncertainty. I know it's inevitable. But I hate it the most in cases where it could be otherwise. I hate not knowing how to react when I see things I'd rather not. It's the natural course of things, I know. But the uncertainty drives me nuts. And I don't want to react passively to it again. Not drinking myself to despair. Someone wise would ask me "why still?why are you still upset over him?". I'm not sure myself but I mostly blame it on uncertainty. Another thing I hate in this world is separating with someone and losing them completely. Because it's absurd to think that, from one day to another the feeling of love (I emphasize, love, not passion) is lost. But I've come to accept that. If I can no longer be part of your life, than so be it. I've come to the altruist state to be able to say "I just want you to be happy, either I'm in your life or not" and mean it. But it's not even like this. I know nothing, I'm sure of nothing. If we have to separate places and say that we're going to exchange a rational hello on the few times we're together, then so be it. If we can have a normal (and that's a big word) relationship where we can talk from time to time and be able to meet each other on the road with that someone new and be able to say hello like decent human beings, then so be it. I just hate in betweens. And I'd love to resolve that before I leave this town for good, because otherwise it'll just be "Go to hell, I won't ever see you again and I'm happy for that".


Male friends

...are a great pillar of my life. As crazy as it might sound, it's very comforting to have men in your life that just don't see you like that. I'm not trying to compare them to my female friends, which I love. But it's yet another feeling. It comfortable, never antagonistic, simple, even stupid at times but I love it. I love talking shit with them, eating and drinking like crazy (though they tend to have a better metabolic rhytm than I do), dancing far after midnight. I consider their opinion on men far more than the one of my female friends, because we tend to get lost in the details. "He sighed on that moment so that might mean that he's not over his ex and incidentally he might have a great oedipus complex..."... sometimes, "he's not that into you" is very comforting, especially when your own thoughts were full of threesomes and abducting aliens. I believe my friends have heard enough crazy things from me, anyway. Male friends, I love you to the depths of my heart!!!! 


I wake up and they're gone.

A lot is going on in my life right now. Whether it's ending a big chapter of architecture and approaching to the end, thinking about leaving Patras (but not realising what that would mean), having all your friends in the same situation, talking about you shitty love life and so on. But I can't put them on paper. At night, I thing about a gazillion things, a great deal of titles. And then I go to sleep, and when I wake up they're gone. None of the issues I'd like to adress are unimportant. It's just that at night, my spontaneity goes on top and I guess it sleeps more than the rest of me.

But since I've begun I'd like to talk about story telling. For those who know me, it's impossible not to know my stories. Maybe that's the reason I've kept this blog all this time. My stories ain't always the innocent kind. Because they're based on facts, they can be embarassing, insulting or even plain bad. But I don't always know when to stop. I have a very lax relationship with privacy and I work along those lines. I guess one of my exes will smack my head one day :P.   



The last time I've worked (not for free) was five years ago, as a secretary. Since then, I've dextrously avoided it, since there was no need to. But the innocent years have come to an end, and I've had my first phonecall for a job today. Not exactly, because it's "powered" by the university, but even though. And they asked for my CV and portfolio. And here's where the stress begins. I wasn't ready to be asked for these. I haven't made them. I don't wanna work seriously just yet. Or do I?


POFPP festival 2013

Here's to one that talks about what's happening now in the outer world. Tomorrow's the beginning of the festival of the Cultural Student teams of University of Patras. Overcoming a tad of difficulties, we arrived to be able to offer four full days of dance, music, photoraphy, cinema, litterature, theater, visual arts and many more. If you're in the city, you're very welcome to come by the A.S.T.O building, in Valtetsiou str.

And here's the (puzzling, I admit) poster:


Should'a would'a could'a

It became clear to me, yet again today, how people see things differently. I'm done and they're not, I'm not and they are. I don't give a damn anymore. Who's even thought that this day would come. But I've realised this: you can't have two people in the world that can change your feelings top-down at the same time. I've had two of these kind in my life. They've both had a big longevity and they can't exist together. People that can bring you to heaven and send you to hell with one phrase. They probably signal all the important relationships in your life. If I had been a different person, an important ex of mine wouldn't ever be looking at me today. But that's the way things've happened and I can only turn to the future.

ps. I'm still looking for a certain chill version of "sing it back". If you've got any idea about it, just send me a comment


The easter luncheon tragedies

It happens every year. and the more tired you are, the worse you want to shout and leave the table.
The easter supper (and lunch on Sunday) is the perfect opportunity for the family to gather around delicious food (holy thing), drink homemade wine, apprecite the nature (if you're in the countryside) and chat carelessly. You'd say, where's the tragedy in all this?
It's quite concrete. You love your relatives, we all do. But there are times when you can't bear them. For me, talking about politics is one of these moments, where I either have to start screaming or leave the table. And especially after some cups of the pro-mentionned homemade wine, the "stay and repress your anger" is not a valid option. In easter tables you are once again reminded of why this whole country is going nowhere and you have no future. Well, I'm overdoing it, but talking about the level of people's concience, easter tables suffocate me. It's not about having a different (opposite, I don't care about that)opinion. I can discuss with that. But what I can't stand the most is listening to them and hearing the arguments that media magnates are using to put them to sleep. My head is shouting "wake up! You've lost all your money and you still believe in that shit?!". But that's not a way to convince people. And the closer they are to you, the worse you get (your parents are the best example for that). And then you become the crazy leftist (laughs). Wha you can do: a.yoga b.express your ideas in the calmest way you can (avoiding swearing carefully) c. drown your sorrow for the world in wine and then go out and play.
I don't know if this is gonna obtuse with time. The only thing I know is that easter luncheons are bad to my stomach, my face and my nerves.


Mi confesión

I won't talk about anything concrete today. Just scrape thoughts.
People talk much about life after university nowadays. I do too. I've been through many phases. Screaming out that I want to leave, staying in the place that I'll leave but hold dear, even when I'm not really supposed to, hurting people in the process. Am I satisfied with the situation? not really, but how can you handle smoothly things about whose function you have no idea? Crying doesn't really help. Makng declarations of war doesn't either. And in the process you loose things as important as hope. What does really "fighting for the long run" mean? can you run a marathon? Are you losing the point while saying meaningful things and discarding others that are still meaningful, even though not as much? And why is it that loving people in any way becomes complicated? And then you can't do it anymore, because you're tired of being the only one who's trying. Even if you do it in the wrong way. Cause noone in this life is a given. And you lose people if you don't try to keep them. You do even if you try, many times. But there's still hope. Being frustrated helps, in the long run. You express your feelings and you work on them. Not beeing a goody-two-shoes also helps. Because that's a big lie. Can you hear me? Can you understand what I'm saying? Being a (little) ass helps me communicate. If not, there's nothing else I can do. But I won't believe that until I have to admit complete and utter defeat.


Not sure about what I've gotta do

What the hell is everyone doing on their laptops? my depression ain't gonna end like this. Neither wasting all my body liquid in tears. Go to sleep, close your eyes. Noone'gonna hear you now. Tomorrow's gonna be another day


Bad intentions

It's the first time that I'm staying in Patras so much in the vacations. There are various reasons for that: the big essay that I have to present in June, the fact that it might be my last easter here, the wish to avoid Athens. And maybe more underlying reasons. Wanting from the couch to be your best friend would be a bit problematic, indeed, but if it's what you need this time then so be it. Creativeness only comes when you've rested enough, I'm afraid. And being supposed to be in two, even three places at the same time doesn't help. I'll rest. And write. And appreciate my lovely couch, appartment, life. And maybe dig into the underlying reasons. Maybe.


On circumstances

I'd have a lot to say, certainly about human relationships (and maybe the ache that the gym is causing me nowadays). But the way that I am now, words would be superfluous. Just listen to the song.


Troubles of a not-so-grown up

I've said today, in a foul mood that I'm tired of talking about, thinking and doing only serious things and that I'd like to sleep late, get drunk and fall in love. It's not entirely true. I don't want to do things that I've done a gazillion times, that have lead to nothing. I'm too old for that (laughs). I might even be too old for sleeping too late. But I'm never too old to fall in love.


What a strange girl...

If I was an egoist, I'd say this song was written for me years before my birth but I guess I'm not the first and only noir heroine around. Enjoy

(with fear of my troll friends, I'll try to translate the verses)

What a strange girl you are
what passions do you have that make you suffer
you've thrown yourself to the wine for hours now
and I can see your eyes crying

What a mysterious girl you are
one day you're all dressed in satin
the other I see you drinking like crazy
and you're very badly dressed

What a strange girl you are
I don't like the life you're leading
Leave the taverns and the wine
I tell you, you'll die miserable



I'd like to call that post sleeping in beds with boys (paraphrasing this movie) but that's not the whole point of the thing. I have always wondered if everybody on this planet has that severe blues. And if they do, how do they deal with them? Do they also do stupid things? Are they also ambiguous? And what is this severe disease that keeps me from wanting to see my own bed?I'd say it's name is loneliness and it's a major issue recently. The major lack of money inevitably gives a lack of extroversion. People today, especially the young ones are lonelier than ever. But what do we do? another major issue. Some people do nothing. Others look for cheap thrills that momentarily make them satisfied, but can do nothing on the long run. And there's the third choice: looking for something real. It might be the hardest of all. You might trip and fall on the road. But it's the only way to be.



flâneur (very accurately described by Walter Benjamin, inspired by Baudelaire) is a person that wanders "aimlessly" on the urban streets and boulevards. I'd say that a. sometimes I wish I had the time and money to do that b.he is the ancestor of the classical street photographer.
I find myself wondering why I've almost entirely given up on street photography even though I love it. The answer lies above; I cannot be a flâneur. I don't have either the time or the money to stroll around endlessly. Well, let's say money ain't that much of an option; you can be peniless and still be a good photographer(and an even better flâneur). But what about time? Is that objective? how many people have you seen mumbling on their phones that they don't have time doing nothing. So this justification wouldn't be legitimate, either.
You don't have to be a flâneur to be a street photographer; I've seen many -and excellent ones- shooting between job, kids and sleep. I am the one that needs to be a flâneur to do it. Because usually nowadays when I walk on the streets, I have tens of thousands things that need to be done on my mind and forget to appreciate the simple things. So, no street for me for now. I strain over my documentary and wish for the best. 

PS. the roommates are advancing, slowly but, oh well...


A vicious circle

Sometimes, the absurd sameness of the way that I react to things discust me. There's a certain pattern that I've followed every time I was upset with/about/because of the same one. And every time it shows royally that it DOESN'T work. At some point, my liver will start screaming, I know it. This isn't a cry for help. Because it's the last time it's happening like this. ever. I'm free now.


About decisions

I've been doing the roommates for a year and a half now and it's going on slowly. Things have changed a lot of times and they have been decisive. For, one thing might be stuck on my head but the results of my work show another one. So I chose this photo from all those I shot of Aggeliki and Fasois. It wasn't even meant to be part of the project. But I think it's the best, the most natural of all. Even though it looks nothing like the others, I think it's one of them.
Aggelikh+ Dhmhtrhs


My dad's best friend

Well, since the last post I've become 23, but there has been no birthday post. March has been shitty and it's been a tradition since last year. I guess what won't kill you makes you older(?). Anyway, my subject today will be my fathers best friend who is 53 years old and appears a pre-teen. I don't mean that he has wonderful genes but that his behavior includes things like jumping in the air several times, calling everyone "my little bug" and believing that everyone is and acts good. He's a great combo with my mom (one that I've always despised since I could lift my right eyebrow). I've always thought he was adorable but that some screw was missing from his head. I was so naive. Because after 23 years of knowing him, only now I've realised that it's just an act. There are many ways of surviving the big bad world, and it's still big and bad even if you live in a rural town. One of them is to play dumb. I would never do that, but recognising that it has offered a caring father and husband and a positively thinking friend, I finally gave into it. After all, we all love "Mr Dinoulis".


We meet only to part

Alright, I cheated because this is the title of a song I really appreciate. I'm going to Berlin tomorrow, bringing my dear camera with me. Even though I'm photographically veeeery tired. Relax and shoot, wouldn't they say? I'll see you in a week


We love this city.

Now that my time here is slowly ending, I'd like to confirm this maybe laughable fact. I love this city. It's the kind of love that you keep for your parents or relatives. If you'd ask me about the negatives of Patras, I'd have a lot to tell. It has no charm whatsoever, it's too small, you can fall on someone you know in any corner of the city (and onto veeery akward situations of any kind). But you can walk freely at night, say hi to the people because you actually know them, go near the shore whenever you want to cry (alone or not), meet your friends in five minutes because you can. I'll never forget here.


Cheap smokes.

Another night turned to day. Once again. The usual guiltiness emerged while she bought early crackers from people who had recently woken up, while going to sleep. She had found herself in a quirky spot. Allergies, morning, no cell phone. And she wanted to share everything with him. The cat's embarassment, the baker's smile, the rising sun's colors on the morning sky. In the end, she decided to share them with the morning crackers, chewing them while slowly going to sleep.



If I've learned one thing lately is that when something is about interaction, it can never happen if both people involved don't see things in the same way. And you can't pressure someone to interact with you the way you like, if they don't want to. You'll have to wait and give turns. Even though you like things to happen your way.



Early morning story.

These hours are tough, especially when you haven't slept yet. While you're removing your gown and wonder why you ain't sleepy, things about the complications of human relationships come to your mind. Why does every insignificant thing told in such hour looks like it came straight out of a movie? who knows. Directors might. The sky becomes lighter and you look like a damn superhero. And the you take off last night's clothes, you go to sleep and when you wake up again, the extreme dimension is gone and you're a human again. Goodnight. Good Morning.



To those who've left us. And to the rest that stay.



Yet another stupid post. Lately, as my student of architecture years are coming to an end, I'm feeling glad. Of the people I've met, of the ones that are my friends, of those who care. When you're in the verge of losing something (yet another sign of growing up, because usually, you learn from things you've already lost) you can appreciate it's value fully. I think that, after many years of useless suffering, I've come to appreciate, once again, the little things that matter. And if they don't distact you from the bigger things you shall fight for, it's a clear win. Goodnight.



Oh, surprise.

...my project goes on too. And pretty decently, I'd say. Can't wait to get my ass out of exams and shoot more.
Spyridoula + Marianthi


Exceeds expectations part II

When I was a little girl, my mother used to tell me I was perfect. The most beautiful, smart and creative person in the world. She didn't really scold me when I did shitty things, but each and every of my little acheivements seemed to her like a confirmation of her theory. You'd say, how cute, moms are like that etc. I'd say you give a greater look to the non-scolding part. This was the beginning of a blessing and a curse. Having others convinced that you're perfect makes you very confident and very fragile at the same time. Because you have to live up to their expectations. I always remember not understanding things at school and not daring asking, because I'd lose the status. And this went on. You know, if you want to convince someone that you're the way they expect you to be, you'll have to tell a bunch of lies. And if lies seems like too harsh of a word, you'll have to not tell anything that counters the image. And it's fucking shitty. Because we all do it. One makes a superhuman out of a man and then the other has to be a superhuman  to live up to your expectations. And then you get deceived... because that's the end of the story. But the deception is both people's fault.
So, how does one get out of the vicious circle? I think that, after having done and lived everything of the above, the answer is simple. Be truthful. Do not deny expectations alltogether but be aware of who you're doing things for, why and what they are. You'll get a little bit of freedom.


...and then came this song...

...that always keeps me company when I feel like I need something. And it works


Post mortem maritimo

I went to the old lighthouse today. I'd never been there, at least further than the taverns. And then came the mixed feelings. My first thought might have been that it'll be the perfect place to go jogging, that I'd never found in Patras and then came the sea. And the rocks. And the scenery struck me, because it reminded me so much of one person, one era. Of all those emotionally charged moments that we'd talk in front of the sea of this town. Of the times that I was grounchy and strange and he brought me there. And I still couldn't relax. The appreciation of little things had always been my motto so why? I still don't think I've got the answer to that. So today was melancholic and akward. But not in a bad way. And I wondered: what comes post-mortem? I haven't been able to answer to this question sufficiently each and every time something died. It's complicated and needs time. It has limits to what one can or cannot say, but not definite ones, I think. I left the lighthouse wanting to mourn quietly an era that's already over and to welcome a new, uncertain one. That, in the good case could even reintroduce rocks and shores. And even laughter. I've learned to appreciate some more things, after all. 


Exceeds expectations

For starters, have a nice year! It's been calm and nice and thoughtful around here.
I'd like to talk about expectations. or the lack of 'em. As you grow up, people expect more and more things from you. And you can make yourself available to them, or ignore them. There are less-than-necessary expectations and over-the-top expectations. There might be balanced, too, but for the almost 23 years of my life, I don't think I've seen any. And there are the expectations you have for yourself too. What are they, anyway? I've found myself thinking that others expect acting like an adult from me, while I'm still acting like a child. Hearing the words "If I was a client, I'd have liscenced you" should have sent me to the right place. They weren't enough, but I appreciate them. Will they send me to the right direction? I hope so. But let's face it, at 23, you're no child anymore and none is willing to treat you as such.