driving

Yesterday I took my first driving lesson!

Learning how to drive has been in my mind for several months now. Being behind the steering wheel. Driving. The symbology behind it. Driving my own life. Not being dependent on others for my transportation. Getting Freeda into a car. Going to the river. The mountain. The sea. Anywhere.

My years on the bicycle helped a lot. Figuring out the details of how the pedals work is to be learned.

fairytales

Yes, the five-year-old inside me likes to make up fairytales about monsters and dragons and locked up princesses! The five year old gets stressed and the adult is not there. I would not have this blog if I did not like fairytales and stories. 

I do admit it.

My beloved monster was there and now it's gone back to its' cage. 

Two free mornings and the stress is gone. No, not free mornings. Mornings working for myself. Work for my classes. My beloved classes. Research. 

My Monday Art History class for adults. The difference between Baroque and Roccoco. Johannes Vermeer. My Friday Crafts class for kids. Leonardo Da Vinci. He drew the first parachute. So much fun. So much love. So much relief.

The smile is back on my face. 

Have a good day!

question

I am angry these days. Angry and stressed. Remember when I said yes to a voluntaly job in a gallery? Well I want to stop working there. I want to have time to organize my lessons, start sewing again, start my driving lessons, finish my book... The gallery is taking too much of my time. And this is eating me. Swallowing me like a monster. I want to scream, to say "enough" and the words just don't come out of my mouth.

This is not unfamiliar. In fact, it is the commonest pattern of my life. Back in Italy I could not say "enough" to Lorenzo. Back in Skyros, I could not say "enough" when I was tired. Back in the days when I had normal jobs, I could not say "enough" to my bosses.

And this word becomes the monster. "Enough". The monster with the burning eyes. If I dare utter it, it will not only destroy me, it will destroy everything I have succeded so far.  It might be simple, yes. When you are dancing outside the circle. When you are in the circle it is different. Difficult.

I do know, that once I have done it, it will seem like a ballon which has lost all it's air.

So why is it so difficult every single time? I will never stop wondering.

last year - now

 Time is an illusion. However, we tend to review every passing year. Where were we? What was going on this time last year?

Last year.
2011 going to 2012.
In the hospital. A dying boyfriend. New year presents in the hospital. Trying to keep hope alive. Trying to make a dying soul happy. Trying to understand our own mortality.

Then February came and his death came.

What was I going to do? How was I going to live? Was I going to live the life I always wanted? I changed everything. Moved to a new town, a new house. My family was close. Old friends where deep inside my heart. New friends were just around the corner. Elina emerged. Started living again.

This years' christmas celebrations were intense. I said yes to every invitation, I would stay out all night. No alcohol, just drinking the moments. Drinking life. Being happy in a dull moment, as well as, a sparkling moment. I sang and danced and had a good time. Defying mortality.

Enjoying nature. Enjoying the river. Enjoying the sunny crisp cold weather.

Breathing.

In less than a week my hectic schedule will start again. And I'm greatful. I'll start teaching more kids and hopefully more adults. Theatre classes will beging again.

And a gift to myself. A driver's licence. I never allowed myself to drive anything else but a bicycle. I was always expecting someone else to drive. Someone else to lead the way. But now I dream of having my own car. Get into it, get Freeda inside and off we go. Anywhere.

Have a good day and happy new year!

New letter to my dad

Christmas day.
I am not as loyal to this blog as I used to be. I used to write almost everyday. And now I write a couple of posts every month.

It's on my mind all the time. I am thinking about the new letter I want to write to my dad. A new letter to thank him for everything he is. Two years ago I wrote him a letter. I knew he did not read it back then. This time I know he will read both letters. And he will understand both of them.

So.

Dear dad.

Thank you. Thank you for being so patient with me. Thank you for disagreeing. Thank you for the loving, understanding environment you provided for me when I was a child. Thank you for keeping the door open for me. I knew the door was always open. And that is what gave me the courage to do every crazy thing I could think of. I knew the door was always open. To return.

You always wanted me to be strong. And I was. You wanted the best for me. And I did not always choose what was best for me. You wanted me to be fearless. Independent. And I was scared. Dependent. And I denied it. You wanted me to use my knowledge and strength. And I did not. People saw the outside. The package. The package was just this. A package. My soul deep deep inside was hurting.

Whatever I did in the past was an accumulation of images, adventures, experiences. With or without you. Mostly without you. I was the big girl. I could do it alone.

The time has passed. We both left the edges and we came closer to the middle. The middle is nice, safe, warm, loving, understanding. I'm so grateful we managed to find the middle before you check out. I am listening. You are listening.

And this time is not about approval. It is about two equal adults discussing. It is about sharing. It is about accepting. It is about listening.

Thank you.

This quiet happiness...

December. Nine months in this city. This city that keeps giving me thrills and joys. I used to hate this city. I was 17 and the world was ahead of me. It was normal.

Now I'm back here. I'm different and so is the place. I keep meeting new, wonderful people. I miss my friends in Athens. But I'm here now.

This crisis business will either work positively or negatively. There are two kinds of people.

One kind sits and adores its misery, indulging in worst case scenarios and blaming everyone else.

The other kind is perpetually searching for a deeper meaning, finds light in the dark, creates from ashes.

This city is giving me good photographs. And lots of inspiration. One day, I saw my friend Sophia's photos. She had taken her photographs and put them as cover to some notebooks. It was a really great idea. And I took permission to do the same. My photographs haven't been used for a long time and it was time to do something about it. I worked on it, made samples, got help from a graphic designer and made them. The result pleases me and I have already sold many. If you want to know more about my new notebooks, check out my artifacts website here.

This crisis blessing - as I prefer to call it - has made many young, talented, inspired people to come back to their roots. The more we are, the more change we will bring in the city. We are educated, we have travelled and we have the strength to make some changes. Sometimes I can feel the magic sparkle when I meet someone who has just arrived or is here for a year or so. The sparkle of recognition. The sparkle of someone who probalby feels the same. A sparkle that we can make into a fire. This fire might burn the old. I am a dreamer. I believe that this town I used to hate can be transformed into the town I love. The town I will always have as a base between my travels.

I am quietly happy.

art, soil, theatre, colours

I have so much to say!

A couple of weeks ago I became a teacher for kids! One painting class, two craft classes. I was supposed tο teach art history, but I knew I would not keep the attention of 10-year-olds for two hours unless they created something while I talked to them. My subject was mr Vincent van Gogh... 

Painting class was easy. They saw "The Starry Night" and the "Vase with Sunflowers" and tried to copy them. In the mean time I asked them at least one hundred times for his name, his place of birth and other little trivia which were easy to remember. It became our little shouting poem! It amazed me how they grasped the colours and even surpassed the great dutch master in brushstrokes... I was so nervous, I forgot to take pictures...

The following week I was going to teach the craft classes. Mr Vincent again. I was terrified. A group collage of the sunflower painting. The class had to cut, colour, paste their flowers and paint the final background. One hundred times the mr Vincent poem. We just about made the two hours and all I was left with was a bombed class! I had to wash everything and tidy up after the storm! In truth I didn't mind! I had so much fun! The result was a bit intimidating and weak just like I was! Such a mirror! 

The next day I was less scared. This time they had to do a group collage of the starry night. I was ready. I separated them in teams. One team had to do the stars, the other the waves on the sky and a third team the tree in the middle. This time I was calmer, had learned the mr Vincent poem veeery well - we repeated it one hundred times... Once more, both classes amazed me with their sense of colour and understanding of hues. The result was simply breath-taking and I do hope they had as much fun as I had. This time I asked them to help me tidy up, wash the brushes and pick up their chairs. I'm kinda falling in love with teaching!

Next month it's Picasso month. I have to find an idea for the craft classes. They will be bored if they do a collage again... I am open to suggestions!

before

after

after two months

The other thing I have been doing for the past two months is a small garden in the back of the block of flats I live in. When I moved there, I saw these HUGE flower beds and I thought about all this free soil that had to have food grown in them. I planted parsley, dill, two kinds of lettuce, coliflower, broccoli and rocket. All this, next to the 2 big rose trees that where already there. I think the roses felt really happy because as soon as I cleared the soil from the weeds and started watering them regularly, they gave me the most amazing roses to cut and keep in my house! My little plants are growing and I find peace of mind when caring for them...

 Finally, I enrolled to the town's amature theatre classes. Every weekend I will be exploring the wonders of theatre - I'm not a newby on stage, but I've never done theatre before...

Meanwhile I enjoy the winter temperatures and the bright November sun that shines every morning! In my walks with Freeda I take wonderful photos... All these reds and oranges, all these trees and vines losing their foliage... Autumn is such a magic time of the year! 

Mind you, I do all these wonderful things which do not require money. The theatre classes cost me 30 euros per year and the seeds for my plants reached the astronomical amout of 10 euros. 

The classes I teach give me enough to get by. The gallery work is still voluntary and requires a lot of time and effort... I think I'll try and reduce the hours I spend there... On the other hand, I have so many wonderful things to do and I meet so many wonderful people!

Life is a wonder!

on words and silence

Words we say.
Words we don't say.
Words that have another meaning.
Words camouflaged as feelings.

There comes a time when you have to feel beyond the words you hear. And this is very tiring. I wish each and everyone of us had a way of using words sincerely, honestly. I wish this was taught to everyone from a very early age. But we haven't. We want to say something and then we say something else. We want to communicate and we make humorous remarks. We are jocking when we want to say we're not feeling very well. We say angry words when we want to say "please listen".

Silence. There is comfortable silence. There is awkward silence. There is the silence filled with joy and understanding. There is the silence which is filled with unexpressed feelings. Weird energetic chemistry about to explode.

How do you treat words?
How do you feel in silence?

I have been wondering about this for a few days.

do not leave your blog without posts...

It's good to have blogger friends, you read their posts and you get the feeling you want to write too.
Except you don't always have a subject.
No.
You have too many subjects and you don't know where to start.

This past week was spent near nature. Near the sea. Away from my life. I was blessed with good company. I was blessed to be able to do it. To travel. To see landscapes from the buses' window. I love passing landscapes. Different colours every season. This time it was red and orange and all the hues in between. I even got to see the sea. We forget the sea. I wish I could live next to the sea and see it's colors all winter long. See how she changes with the seasons.

That does not mean I do not work. I had to prepare for my next lecture in art history. I literally get lost in Renaissance images. I am re-learning all the religious games between the Popes and the Protestants. The propaganda behind the masterpieces. I think my mind is mature enough to filter through the information. When I was younger I did not grasp all the sociology-philosophy behind the imagery. It is more exhiting these days!

Hope your days are bright and filled with love!

travelling in the city, working, living

 Weather report. Grey sky, temperature down.

My need to travel is there. I try to remind myself I have decided to do it according to a plan. I am going to do it when the time comes. Like a small child I am impatient. Slow down kid, you will get your sweet sooner or later.

These days teaching takes part of my time and I enjoy it more than I thought. The more you do it, the more you relax and give out your true self. I am lost in the stories of the past, the anecdotes of art history, I try to make my class interesting and not dry. They seem to like it. At least I like it. I'm so greatful for that chance I got!

I'm also a volunteer in a gallery. It's not easy being a volunteer anymore. But... It keeps me busy. It gets me out of the house. But... I need the money. But... I can't work for free. But... I can't use all that knowledge and time and not expect something in return! All the "but s" are there. I try not to moan. Everything is my choice. I know my worth and I'll do it for as long as I please.

There is no internet in the gallery. So I sit down and write my book. Listen to music. Not many visitors yet, so I get a lot of time alone.

For the last couple of weeks I take care of a stray. He is very much like Freeda. Black with white toes and chest. He is young but a giant. Every morning he welcomes us in the park and they play like dogs do. I'm so glad Freeda has a friend! The rest of the dogs do not play, they are just strays, afraid of people, afraid of other dogs... but he is different, a sweetie, a real getleman. I hope I find him a home so I get the chance to see him every once in a while. Otherwise he might just dissappear and I will not know where he went. For the time being, I take care of him and I feed him.

My days are fine, busy and wonderful.