All in It's Personal
It was the Gypsy Summer of 1988 –
Tracy Chapman was talking about revolution; for about a year Nina Simone has been wayfaring through MTV charts as a play-doh sultry cat; the whole Wimbledon stadium and the rest of the world were chanting “Free Nelson Mandela!” and we were still perplexed for four consecutive years how Madonna managed to be "like a virgin"…
Edessa is a small picturesque town not far from Thessaloniki, in the heart of the green Northern Greece.
I first visited Edessa when I was 8 years old, 41 years ago. In my fading tunnel of memories, the mosaic of recollections about this place is like shining light...
I always believed and preached how much is important to visualize when creating my photography work. But it all goes to shattered pieces like porcelain plates on a Greek dancing floor when it involves my girls and some of the distinguished members of our backyard feathered upper class...
Calmly, with a careless wave of her hand, she stretched down on the daybed. This day was planned for nothing –
Fragrance.
Gentle fragrance.
And nearly impossible to describe, delicate sweet scent, that can draw in people and insect…
Moonlight was streaming through the open window and the hoary gramophone's horn was howling at it. The record was wobbling on the misbalanced turntable and made the pin jump, skip a beat and screech when landing on the disk again...
I have only sensations beyond the written word when holding a ripe fruit of quince.
Today I invite you to be my co-writer and let’s dive into this imagery story.
“Cooking fish tonight?” he greeted, happy to see again her sunlit smile and wished he can dive in her beaming blue eyes.
