When thinking of this feeling of deep longing, I always refer to a specific part of a poem written by the Greek poet C. P Cavafy in 1911.
Ithaka gave you the marvelous journey. Without her you would not have set out. She has nothing left to give you now. And if you find her poor, Ithaka won’t have fooled you. Wise as you will have become, so full of experience, you will have understood by then what these Ithakas mean.
It all starts with a pull. A tug in your heart and mind towards a place that you love, a place that you miss, the aromas that bring you to a certain afternoon with a coffee and the smell of jasmine floating trough the air. It’s the longing for your home; the familiar; the place that we all leave and sometimes take years to go back to. Yet the journey away is far more important than the return. The journey changes you, and even though you cling to images of your past and aromas that make you yearn for the things you miss the most; the journey away from all that you love, can and does change you for the better. Nostalgia is a deep pain that no matter how many places I’ve been, how many trips I take and how many places I’ve lived; it is as strong as the first day I left my home. I look at images of Athens and I just can feel the spring breeze wafting through the eucalyptus tree in my grandmother’s garden at 4pm after a siesta. I remember the feeling of the water after a long summer swim. There is no water like the Mediterranean sea and that is the smell of Nostalgia for me.
Nostos- Longing to return / Going toward the place you love
Algos- The sweet pain of separation from that place.
Day 11 of 27. This image was snapped in a private club in New York City. I was invited to a lovely classical music event, with mostly very interesting people. I left feeling I got a small glimpse of the elite high end world of New York, that even now is a thing of legends, stories, fact and fiction. There a very few times in my life that I have come across this secret world of the wealthy and privileged. I don’t say this to be a bad or good thing, just something I know very little about. I thought about what it would feel like to be part of this societal and economic stratum, and I can’t wrap my head around the concept. It somehow doesn’t feel normal to me, yet here it is; alive and well and right next door to us. Two worlds exist in New York more so than any other place I’ve visited; ( ok London may be more extreme in this). And this one struck me as a world stuck in time; unaware of the societal and social changes the rest of us see every day. This world of wealth and privilege seems very isolated and unaware of the rest of the world.
The space I visited exuded isolation and exclusivity in every part of its existence, yet it was absolutely beautiful and captivating to be there. I felt like I was a fly on the wall absorbing this ” other” world and the rules that form it.
I am glad I have the opportunity to see glimpses of this world but at the same time knowing full well that I’m a visitor; staying a short while, only to return to a life I’m enjoying fully.
What do you observe in everyday life that captures your attention ?
There is something about poetry and spoken word that can’t be expressed in any other way. This evening I am performing at a gallery, event opening in Brooklyn, and I’m terrified and excited to perform my work. This piece of writing among others is very personal to me. Over the past two years I’ve been doing some open mic performances, and although I’m no stranger to performance and being on stage, spoken word and poetry is something I never had the courage to perform- until now.
This is dedicated to the one I love(d).
I’M DONE
No you don’t get to fuck me and say there’s a hundred ways to love me and then disappear.
You don’t get to be “friends” when you don’t trust me and fill me with fear.
You don’t get to share my heart and then then tear it apart.
That’s not art.
I’m not a pretty girl but at least I’m smart
I have fire and desire and I know how to play the part.
You don’t get to be in my movie and have a cameo role
I want a leading man not a stand in.
I’m not a hole
You can’t fuck me when it pleases you.
I told you I’d be there for you and I needed you.
And what did you do?
You got your hand in my pussy and you thought, I’m all for the taking.
but you’re mistaken.
I’m not making this up.
Your times up.
I gave YOU my fire, you gave into MY desire and your face lit up.
That’s what’s up.
But you chose to quash it and wash it away as a casualty of your half assed reality.
Bull shit. I call it and you’re full of it.
You’re emotionally bankrupt and you’re asking for a loan?
I know I Look like a charity but this is moral depravity
I guess you missed my clarity when I told you it was all or nothing
Your legal tender is of no value here.
But since you don’t understand I’m going to tell you once more….
I can’t be seen with a man without a passion for life.
You wanna stay with your half-baked excuses and look for constant muses?
When you know there can only be ONE.
And I’m done…
Check out more and maybe see a live performance tonight Friday March 9th on Facebook live or Instagram
“Women will save the world, but first they must start by saving themselves.” — DL
Today is International Women’s Day — Women’s achievements, sacrifice, tenacity, willpower, beauty, and presence is celebrated around the world.
Yes but…. there is a but.
What is lacking in all this celebration of togetherness is the sheer lack of self care that most women give themselves. Over and over women are celebrated by being the healers, the nurturers the caretakers, as of late (only in American Culture) the fighters; the true heroines. More often than not these same women are time and time again put into positions to care for others more than they can care for themselves.
And yet…. there is a yet; women are still abused, by their husbands, boyfriends, fathers, lovers, relatives. Wives and girlfriends are battered in more households across Greece than I care to mention. I’ve heard it with my own to ears. I’ve heard it here, in New York right next to my own home. Because violence physical, verbal and mental; despite this rah rah mentality of celebrating women, still exists.
We, women; are strong, unrelenting in our abilities to do whatever we want to do. And still, yes there is a still; we have to deal with the abuse, the control and the pressure of society to be nice, pretty, agreeable, convincing with our bodies and not our minds and lastly and this is not easy for me to say, become blind of all that has happened and continues to happen to us and get on with it.
I celebrate women, I revere their strength their ability to get things done in the most difficult of circumstances but above all; I celebrate their ability to forgive; love unconditionally, and bring communities together when no one else can. My biggest heroes are not the famous faces; everyone knows them. My heroines are the women in my family; the women I call my sisters, and the women who despite illness, financial difficulty and incredible odds against them; still get shit done. These are the role models that young women need to look up to.
We are the healers, the negotiators the ones who raise families, our own and of others, we are strong, we are survivors, we get up when life throws us down, but we must never forget that in order to heal the world, we must begin with ourselves.
Tonight’s post is a double edged sword if you will. It’s about those two very sharp, dangerous turns we encounter in one way or another in our lives. They may not define us or hinder us from trying again; but they do exist. There is something to be said about having expectations of people. Some of the time they lead to disappointment, some of the time they are met with disapproval, and in most cases they are never realized. Expectations are a set up… a trap that inevitably leads to failure.
Failures on the other hand are a path to growth. We fail because we try, we fail again and again, and eventually the formula works and we succeed. We fail in a grandiose way because we gave it our all. Success can’t come without a good dose of failure, and a massively determined spirit. Inevitably no matter how hard we try, there is something we will never be good at. And that is where expectation and failure collide.
I am excellent at failure… It’s the success that alludes me, but tenacity I’ve got a plenty.
Athens isn’t what you would call a beautiful city or even a picturesque one. A friend described it as a place where someone threw a bag of Legos and wherever they landed that’s how Athens was built and developed after the second world war. This huge uncontrollable expanse of cement, metal and marble is a basin engulfed by 4 mountain ranges. Parnitha, Penteli,Hemetos and Egaleo. Except for the Parthenon, Mount Lycabettous, and the Panathenaic Stadium (Kallimarmaron) there aren’t distinct recognizable features in its landscape that define it like other sprawling metropoles.
Athens is an ugly modern city. built around on the glory of ancient wonder.
What Athens has that other cities in the world don’t is its ability to constantly renew itself and reinvent its story. This does not stem of capricious artistry but because of necessity. Ever since the second world war, Athens has been a city of change, tumult and pathos. It’s an experimental, dramatic place filled with history and constant change.
Fluctuating Governments, Regimes, Geo-Political importance, invasions, occupations, war and turmoil. Its streets are paved over layers upon layers of history. Every building quite literally stands over ancient cities and past glory. At every turn there is an ancient site tucked between the cacophony of 1950’s chaotic rebuilding post WWII.
View of downtown Athens
Despite its misfortunes, Athens is a grand, triumphant city taking its name after its most powerful female symbol. The city is dedicated to the goddess Athena, she rains over this basin as a goddess spawned from fierce strength and magnificence. The Virgin Goddess (Athena Parthenos) protects our city, and you can feel her presence looming over the polis every night as the Parthenon lights up over the night sky.
Like every one of its citizens, its loud, nosy, loving, boisterous , nostalgic, hospitable, suspicious, dirty, and mystical. You will come to this city a stranger and you leave a friend. Its not an easy friendship mind you; it will demand a lot of you, but its a deep and genuine lasting friendship that will be there for your through the hardest of times. She is a city that has been battered, used, taken advantage of again and again but still has life to give and love to share for those who are willing to look beyond the scars and the misfortunes.
In 2010 the economic crisis started to bear down on the soul of this beautiful city goddess. This was one wound too many for some neighborhoods. I saw once vibrant street corners turn into drug infested sewers, I saw its people live in fear of their neighbors and let the mistrust and anger brewing around them seep into their daily lives. Yet despite the destruction, the riots, and the strikes that crippled our city for the past eight harrowing years, it’s people and most importantly it’s young people are starting to find ways to bring sunlight into even the darkest spots.
New Life built on the shadows of the crisis.
New businesses are being created, replacing once empty neighborhoods with bars restaurants and cafes. New companies are being founded with innovation from forward thinking Greeks, who left, the country for years at a time, and came back, with renewed courage to give back to the city they love.
These changes are not with out their set backs of course. The crisis still looms heavy on every day living but instead of giving in to the roller coaster crippling economy that has been Greece’s reality, Greek entrepreneurs and business owners have learned to adapt with the times. Etsy and online stores are now replacing physical storefronts which are expensive to maintain and don’t draw the foot traffic they once did. Yes we all are very weary when stores that have been in the center of Athens since the late 1800’s close, but innovation has to take place in order for new blood to enter a ill fated city.
Online business is on the rise, as crippling capital controls are still in place, but have allowed for more online commerce to develop. Greeks and specifically Athenians have long been trained in loopholes, and this is no exception. Old abandoned houses are being transformed and given new life as hip cocktail bars and gourmet restaurants. Greeks although strapped for cash themselves have found a way to work outside the localized economic restrictions and build businesses that are not only successful but profitable as well.
Just underneath Philopapou Hill in Petralona what was once a working class neighborhood in the 1950’s has now become a gathering place for new restaurants, and bars. Old taverns that were only frequented by the locals are now a destination spot for people who don’t live near these neighborhoods. I witnessed the beginning stages of this transformation starting in 2010 when I still lived in Athens. Beautiful neoclassical buildings are transformed, and transported to a time and place that has no historical reference and recreates these streets from the beginning.
The northern suburbs of Athens are also getting their taste of new glory days; with local restaurants and bars choosing to set up shop in smaller venues there rather than take their business in more prevalent or central neighborhoods in Athens. Off the tourist beaten path, these neighborhoods are usually strangers to foreign visitors so they keep their authenticity and are loyal to their patrons are they are to them.
Chalandri, Cholargos, Kifissia, Marousi, Agia Paraskevi to name a few are the northern neighborhoods receiving a fresh spotlight after their initial heyday in the 80’s and 90’s.
Even more “working class” and immigrant neighborhoods such as Ilion, Nea Smyrni, and Egaleo are reinventing themselves in their own unique way.
The under represented and often overlooked jewel of Athens in my opinion has always been Piraeus. Its a busy, dirty, port with overly antithetical ideas about itself. In the 30’s and 40’s part of it was a very upper class neighborhood, next to a sprawling lower class and immigrant population constantly coming in from Asia Minor and the northern outskirts of the Greek villages. Many families who had shipping or trade businesses would live and work there. One of them being my grandmother and her 3 siblings. The northern suburbs now considered upper class, were all but non existent, and only for “summer vacations” of the wealthy Athenians, seeking refuse from the overcrowding Athenian metropolis.
Philopapou Hill in the early 1800’s and 1900’s
Pireaus on the other hand was and is for many a separate entity of Athens set apart for its glory and Academic centers, Pireaus was a city of the people and by the people. Its like no other part of Athens. The residents call themselves Pireotes before they would ever call themselves Athenians. And I can completely understand their pride and camaraderie to their neighborhood.
This is true for other neighborhoods in Athens, as they are slowly revamping, reinventing, renewing their re-imagined surroundings.
Athens is always forever struggling with the city that it once was, and now slowly growing into the city that it will be. Its Renaissance comes with many growing pains and crises of identity yet I’ve always had faith in this crazy lego-land built on the ruins of ancient civilization. This faith is born not because Athens is the home I was born in, but has become the home that I’ve grown as a person, as a woman, as a friend as a professional, with countless others who worked hard and made it their home too. We are not Europe and I hope that one day we realize that and define this city with its own colors.
For more information about the places you’ve seen here — Get on a plane and visit!
What comfort and beauty lies beneath receiving a warm embrace even from a stranger? How can we comfort and be comforted without saying a single word?
This universal gesture that is common in so many cultures. This simple act of sharing kindness, camaraderie, love, lust, friendship, caring and unity. Who do you embrace in your life? What do you share where no words are needed? How do you embrace Life, love, challenges and all that comes with it?
I remember those times when I needed it the most, those who truly cared gave me the embrace and shelter I needed from the storms of life. It’s a port of protection, it’s a showing of a connection beyond words. In Greece we kiss on each cheek with mast strangers but we embrace with fire and love those who mean the most to us. It’s a closeness one cannot dismiss or take lightly. Tonight embrace those you love even if that person is only you.
The coming of spring always brings with it moments of reflection, renewal, and shedding the old proverbial skin. Spring is about replacing, restructuring and doing away with many of the things we may have buried in our winter minds.
How do we measure a happy life? How do we measure a successful one?
How do we know that we are on the right path to self realization, and our “highest self”?
There are moments that all these thoughts keep circulating in my head, after many years of practicing yoga, going to mindfulness workshops and trying to figure out what is the best path in life, and am I on it?
I’ve been thinking where I’ve been and where I’m going, what I’ve accomplished, what I set out to do and didn’t complete, what roads I have traveled that lead to places I didn’t expect to go to, and what lies ahead as I approach my 40th year on this planet.
I spoke to a friend I’ve known for almost 20 years, and as I usually do;
I asked her… “are you happy?”
Her answer of course didn’t surprise me as I’ve thought exactly the same thing.
She relented: ” I’m getting older, I am very lonely at times, my parents are getting older. I fear for their health and well being, I wonder what it is I’ve really accomplished in this life. I’ve not had a family, and do I still have time to have one? I feel like I’ve missed the boat” she said.
As we approach those ages, where the “milestones” of accomplishment are not always visible; we are unfairly placed against a timeline of who and what we “should be”. I related with my friend’s conundrum, as I’m sure many of us do. I don’t like this feeling of getting older having not reached those “milestones”. I am weary of my parents getting older and having to take care of them in their later years. I try to “snap out of it”; I told my friend, and remind myself of the journey that has led us all here. The wonderful projects I’ve participated in as an artist, a yoga teacher, a performer and now as of late a beginner writer, often allude me when I’m at a loss for what’s next.
It’s perfectly acceptable to face our fears, our loneliness, and our realizations of “have I done anything useful with my life? We are facing an age where the expectations weigh heavy. In Greece women my age “should” have had kids by now, they “should” have settled down and figured it all out, and the wild and free and unsettled energy that women have is often quashed for a more “sensible” family oriented path. Yet there are beautiful examples to the contrary.
I don’t want to be misunderstood as some “desperate wannabe housewife”, waiting for her turn to be realized. Women now more than any other time are allowed to be whatever the hell they want, do whatever they want, and navigate their lives in their own way, and yet there is something in all of us that wonders…
Have I done enough? Who will take care of me? Is THIS all there is? Am I successful enough? Did I miss the boat?
Even the most confident women I know have admitted to me, after much objection to the contrary, that these thoughts cross their minds from time to time, for what is this life without, personal accomplishment, companionship, friendship, camaraderie and a deep understanding that we can beautifully navigate this life with others beside us.
Have you met your expectations?
Did you set out goals that you didn’t manage to accomplish?
What is a passport but a doorway for freedom, and a way to go wherever you can and want to go. It’s an opportunity and a way to see the world. It’s a chance to broaden your horizons.
I’ve been blessed to be born in one country but given two passports, two nationalities, two identities, two ways of life, often conflicting and opposing each other. I am a Greek with an American mind. An American with a Greek soul. I was always asked which one I preferred the most ever since I was a little girl.
I have a sense of belonging, identity and a way to see the world that very few have. It’s also difficult to defend both in my heart and mind. Passports have given me the opportunity, the gift and the privilege to see the world, to travel and to be influenced by many different cultures. I have lived in many places and continue to want to explore more of the world. I belong to no country and I hold all identities as my own. I’ve adapted to different cultures and had the immense luck to call many places my home.
Home is where the heart is they say; and I’ve had many homes in my heart, but as Odysseus completed his journey to Ithaca, no matter how long he was away and how many lands he saw; his home was where his longing was fulfilled. He spent years apart from his homeland only eager with renewed passion to return.
My home is everywhere and no where. And one day I will return to the home in my heart.
On this third day of my 27 day posting project I’m looking into my memory bank. What are we but a collection of memories ? What are we but a gathering of our stories and other people’s stories of us ? What are we but the story we build for ourselves ?
I think often of the stories that people tell about their lives, the lives they have lived and the memories they hold close; to comfort them when they need it the most. I am often looking at old pictures of myself, my other lives; my childhood in Greece, my teenage years in the U.S, my adult years in London and back in Greece, and now my present life. It’s all a scrap book, for the next chapter to be written. Yet I find myself clinging to memories, my memories of my grandmother cooking in my old house in Athens, my American grandmother watching television with her saltines and peanut butter, my Greek grandfather and his brother playing backgammon on the balcony of his home on a warm summer night. The first time I saw snow on a trip to Austria with my parents when I was five, and my insistence of carrying it home back with me to Greece; my first taste of culinary greatness at a restaurant at Place Dophine in Paris, my first kiss….
I often think of how it would be if things turned out differently with the man I loved but who didn’t love me back.
Memories haunt us, comfort us, remind us where we’ve been and where we are going.
Day 12 of 27. What is Nostalgia to you?
Day 6 &7 of 27 Days.
Post 4 of 27.
Eleana Kouneli 