The road had its own history
someone wrote it on the wall, with a color
it was only one word, 'freedom'
and then they said that it was written by kids
And then time passed and history went on
it passed easily from memory to heart
the wall (now) said 'unique chance!
inside are sold materials of any kind!'
On Sundays from early in the cafes
and then, football, bets and fights
the road had its own history
but they said that it was written by kids
since Amsterdam we read the whole of the Odyssey in the street. 2 days, more than seven hours each day. It was an epic endeavour, filling our souls with the magic of the greatest storyteller ever. and we want to do it again. and we will.
Pup Argos is growing, he is older that I thought, he is nearly 5 months old. He was malnourished and parasite ridden- the contest for food at the sheep pen must have been fierce, and the other dogs look like small lions...I am gently training him, with rewards only
I've been experimenting with old tshirts, I have tons of them
encouraged by alabama chanin who uses cotton jersey
it works..I'm looking forward to making some clothes..
Birthdays came and went, I wasn't in warsaw this time. hard.
Telemaco asked me to take him to Athens so he could place a flower on the memorial for the students who were killed in an uprising against the Dictatorship on the 17th of November 1973.
Every year since 1974 there have been memorial/protest marches on that day, sometimes with very violent riots. The central slogan then, and now is bread-education-liberty.
I did take my 12 year old, because he asked to do it
we went in the morning, before the demonstrations. There were tears in my eyes the whole time we were there.
for the youths who gave their lives believing they are changing the world
for the memories of my youth. I never missed a march until I had children.
for my sons who are youths in these troubled times
and because now, so many years after the sacrifice we are still looking for ways
what was amazing is that this year there were many many families with children of all ages who went to pay tribute
time passes, and the pomegranate tree is showing off
puppies grow, dreaming of fighting with wolves
this guy was lonely, jumping fences, mooing for attention. we were harvesting olives for a neighbour, and the calf made a lot of noise until he figured out a way to come close. he had two brothers, there were three, now there is one. People around here are raising animals for food, again. Not enough time has passed to forget how it is done, the traditional way.
There were many people sleeping in the street in Athens. Workshops start and end earlier now because it is not safe to be out late.
I was greeted by our prime minister (the previous one, now) on a giant television outside the airport
I didn't see much of the city, only from afar, but I did see the old shipyard. got to know it a lot, walking up and down
some rehearsing, a little music, telling, meeting people
and a flag..Greece was on my mind a lot, since we are being turned inside out by political powergames
a greek question mark in one of our singing bowls
colours on walls. the grey sky seems relentless, just as I suppose our sun is to people coming from grey skied countries
language learning outside the mens rest room. looks like broken english..I know its the other way round. And, Martine, do women need telling?
bench floor patterns during nightime
swans in couples
saw a raven
and fat self satisfied seagulls
ducks, and black ones that I learnt were called coots
I didn't spend much time in Amsterdam, but I saw people, met some I'm glad to have met, hung out with members of the pack, told and listened to stories
a good trip
maybe another time I will see the city, and, who knows, a blogging friend or two....
in the middle of the olive harvest
done as the people of this land have been doing for thousands of years
(image from here)
I am leaving, to play for Gilgamesh and to tell the story of Odysseus in Amsterdam..
this little guy, named Argos, will be waiting for my return, keeping Luka and telemaco company. when he grows up he will look more like a lion than a lamb..he is a greek sheepdog, now little soul, psychoula, as we say
the country may be falling to pieces, or not, but these dreamers are reading our founding tale aloud in the streets of Athens, to comfort, to dream, to find a way, to not be silent, to continue