Marine Life of Dreams

I come from the sea; three fourths of my grand parents come from Istanbul, Silivri, Epivates, my dad lived his childhood in Rodosto and I was born and raised in Thessaloniki. Only one grand father came from the mountains.

Now I live on the rolling hills of Missouri after having spent 6 years in the valley of Arno.

Inevitably my dreams usually take place in fictional sites by the water.

Εδώ παραπάνω χταπόδια με τις βεντούζες τους παίζουν στο μεταξένιο σώμα της νέας, γύψινες φάλαινες γίνονται ερωτικοί κρυψώνες στον Άγιο Λουδοβίκο, χέλια γλιστρούν ανάμεσα σε κοιμισμένα πόδια.
Και στο φουστάνι της τρικυμία, να πάλλεται το νήμα το φτιαγμένο από μεταξοσκώληκες μεγαλωμένους στον κόρφο νεαρών γυναικών

Getting ready to fly

In two nights I'll be on a plane going for the summer in Greece. It is the first time I feel a lack of enthusiasm going overseas. I look around me in St. Louis and I enjoy the trees and the gardens, the easy life, the evenings with live music, the party season just starting... Usually I would scorn at all this, and would be impatient to set foot at the tarmac at SKG airport feeling the excitement of nostos.
This time I am going solo, not knowing what I will have to deal with, without being able to make plans since it is all depended on my mom's health...
Never the less I am looking forward meeting old friends, spending my birthday at home, meeting new people, going to outings, gallery openings, museums and all there is to be seen in Thessaloniki. I am going to try hard not to fall under the spell of the end of a personal era, the end of the line where I come from.
I am taking along, as a security blanket, my art work that I will show this summer in Greece, a small book of unpublished poems I can work on, and the urge to get my self out there. May the wind blow my direction and bring fulfillment of my dreams.

Η καρδια μου, γιατρε, στην Ελλαδα βρισκεται

Looking for the original poem by Nazim Hikmet that I have paraphrized for today's title, I came across this one:

Because

They'll go to the moon

and beyond,

to places even telescopes can't see.

But when will no one go hungry

on earth

or fear others

or push them around,

shun them

or steal their hope?

Because I responded to this question

I'm called a Communist.

The aesthetic of decay