Showing posts from June, 2014


I've realised that there are whole genres of music I can't listen to without being reminded of my mum and being sad. Almost ALL greek music now brings tears to my eyes, so I usually avoid it. There are some days though that I wake up missing those Sundays when the four of us would pile up in the car and drive to the mountains listening to the radio. I miss the music, I miss the mountains, I miss my family, I miss the innocence of those sunny Sundays and the long road trips and listening to my parents talk about so many interesting and stimulating things. 
Part of project GRIEF is to bring back those memories that comprise my identity, and face the music, literally! This is an album that my dad got my mum when I was 9 years old. I loved it so much that I asked them to let me buy it for my favourite teacher in school (who was extremely surprised to receive it) and then in my first year in high school I sung one of the songs in the album acapella in front of my class as part of …

Musical Interlude

This is a cool album from 2011. Give it a listen!

Who am I?: Indonesia

I think: Indonesia was so magical. How do you explain the massive butterflies, the eerie sounds of the forest, the edible colour of people's skin, the smell of clove cigarettes and their crackling fire like tiny lighthouses in the darkness of night, the myriads of metallic coloured bugs and moths, the shapes of the leaves, the waving children, the canopy, the landscape...
Indonesia was so magical, I left a part of me there. I know because I go there in my dreams. I fly above the world on the back of a giant Hornbill, whose loud beating wings stir oceans and bend trees. Indonesia changed me, as I questioned my notions of time, normality and among others, freedom.
I saw cocoa fruits hanging from trees, and wild orchids growing on the side of the road. I saw a hornbill's nest with a little hornbill chick's head poking out, and a langur monkey dying alone on the soft forest floor. I heard stories of spirits entering people, and of brutal beheadings carried out by flying paran…

A Change Is Gonna Come


After heavy rain the back yard smells like the rainforest. It really transports me as I sit there in the early morning sun, watching the dog play. She runs through the grass, droplets of water splashing from her feet and getting caught in the light - diamonds sprayed into the morning! She is so happy to be alive. She takes such enjoyment out of sticking her snout in the earth, smelling the fresh grass, rolling around in the mud. Puddles are such a delight for her, as she jumps into them head first, then belly and, with an agile swiveling maneuver, feet up and wriggling, like a muddy little pig. The prospect of going out in the back yard every day is so exhilarating, that she is so happy to see one of her humans in the mornings, greeting us with one of her broad pit bull smiles, the corners of her mouth curling up to show her teeth, and her tail wagging at our feet. Usually I have to reach for the coffee pot grumpily before thinking of doing anything, but today I am as drawn to the ou…