WOMENSTOURSCRETE

HER

The earliest memory I have of myself … is diffused with the light of my country (and found through all out the Eastern Mediterranean) and the sweet scent of the soil in spring, as I sat listening to the bees. The light reaches directly into the soul, opening all the doors and windows of ones heart. One feels exposed naked in a metaphysical bliss and all is clear without somehow being known. I bathed in this light much earlier than my favorite element and word The Sea! I had a box full of praying mantises that needed feeding: I found them so fascinatingly beautiful! In my native tongue they are known as the ‘Horses of the Virgin Mary’. I absolutely loved horses, with their far-away eyes, but why on earth would the Virgin Mary choose such a mount? I wondered what a obscure vision it must be to see the Virgin Mary riding such a strange creature each time I found them and tucked them away into my cardboard box wanting to observe them better.   -Greece in the 1970s was the cradle of my childhood. My parents travelled the Greek islands – museums and ancient sites by day, with Leonard Cohen taking hold of their nights.We where all wrapped up in thick veil of cigarette smoke, as they played cards: the one that lost had to wash the dishes. I was without realizing it emerging into an Era, a culture, a way of life and understanding that shaped me for the rest of my life. Words such as Democracy, dictators, kings and invasion were people that visited us frequently in the evenings. It took me a long time to recognize their faces finally, but once I did I never forgot them. It was then that I was given my first music tape by George( My father)of Edith Piaf – and was I chuffed! I used to descend on my parents in the evenings while playing cards wearing Elizabeth’s( My mother)shoes in a black t-shirt singing at the top of my voice claiming the night and the attention triumphantly. I thought Leonard sounded like a tom cat on a roof, that smoked Assos Export cigarettes, non-stop! I revised that opinion later on in life ... Today both the little sparrow and Leonard are two of my favorite artists and the springtime of my life as I enter autumn. A large part of my escape-route while in Greece to happiness was by playing in ancient sites, picking up pottery sherds or gazing on ancient statues for hours. That is when I learned the art of gentle stillness and clarity of the moment. The Greek myths for my imagination and shrimps for my belly is what I was dished out with, as my parents with their friends enjoyed their ouzo and meze in the cafenions at the sites and museums, discussing what else politics! Once I finally acquired names (and stories) to go with these statues that looked straight through me with their melancholic eyes, I fell down my personal ‘rabbit hole’ – and part of me has until now refused to return ...  I learned to speak later than was expected of me: it happens we were told when many tongues are spoken in one household. But Greek came to be for me and still Is the language of infinite blue, of tsikadas, wine, fresh limewashed houses sliding down a mountain like bread crumbs on a tablecloth, a glass of water on a hot summer day and August figs, giagias (old little ladies in black )with raisin-like eyes amidst the wrinkles of their lives – and above all, the overlapping of drama and comedy in almost every aspect of everyday life. Somehow life and death like a night with two moons in Greek is seen observed felt as if rehearsed as it has been done centuries now. (A night with two moons a sky with fish verse of famous Greek song) -In this way the ancient ways become an everyday reality in modern times, the unusual even can be accepted as usual. Everything in Greek carried with it strong emotions and melded together strongly connected: from the preparation of food to the quaffing of a final coffee or cognac. Nothing was just ‘this or that’.   I realized all this but gradually, as the quality of the air and rhythms of being changed, upon my learning the use of a different tongue. I also learned the ways of the world, the ways of people, the ways of violence, the ways of hatred, the ways of success, the ways of power so many of these ways a source of great pain, conflict and destruction.  But my work always made sure I was in her realm in her presence even if I was absent at the time. Either in museums and ancient sites She was there as we swam round her like a school of fish silently as I guided hopefully, eager visitors. Indeed, it was not until years later I realized that even if I stood outside of, and at best beside, Her -- that She always inhabited me. As She has done for centuries: commun(icat)ing but not being really heard, seen but not fully perceived -- until she grew silent and solemn, and we deaf and blind as a result. It was an apocalypse when I realized that I had her on the tip of my tongue all these years when I finally recognized HER and in the middle of my sentence as I was describing HER to my group the unbroken mistress and goddess without mercy all in one had her celestial glow once again.