then the day came in which i left the island; an entire month lived by the changing moods of the sea and the wind. walking desolate roads and becahes with no one on them
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days so windy that it blew away everything: a table, cigarette stubs, the wifi. i went deeper into my cave and remembered the beauty of my kaleidscopic mind - after a long absence.
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i took a bus to a tiny village inside mountains and fields of olive trees. I walked ancient footpaths to a byzantine church surrounded by the sound of bird wings. the villages are mostly empty in november. i listen instead to the silence inside me.
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a greek beach cat made himself at home in my lap today, and i was sad to leave. even after 15 minutes. i wanted to take him with me. instead i biked 8km home again, in early darkness.
the day i biked 17 km (to and from) plaka beach to lay down alone on the sand, feeling like the only soul alive in a desolate place. back again through winding village roads reminding me of a spring in rural japan — except with the smell of goats and olive trees and mediterrean sun.
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the sea so calm today it was almost a lake. i call my mother and remember that other world as distant as a dream - home - where people know my name. i make noodles for dinner and sit in a silent dark bath where, underwater, i can hear the sound of my own heart beating.
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sunsets these days are early and dark. i watched his boat arrive, and then later from the balcony, i watched it leave, a fading spark of light
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alone in the darkness of autumn days, where wind can blow away all things, all dreams — i watch korean crime TV in bed
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the beginning of windy days, of a jellyfish sting like eating hot chili, of waking up at 4 in the morning and unable to fall back asleep, sitting here watching waves, dreaming of fish
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the sea after days of wind: full of fragments of trees like unfinished sentences, or omens. i swam here with a stranger who came to me like a half remembered dream…
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waiting to be smoked. the day so windy i’m almost blown away again
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today so windy you cannot think. i sat here trying not to be carried away.
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i biked 6.6 km there and back to see the beach - more gentle than where i usually go swim, with lounge chairs and umbrellas.
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have i really only been here a week? it feels like a month has passed. i live by the changing moods of the weather. tonight the sea is so loud like a white noise machine.
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it was rainy all morning, but then the sun came out and i did what i do everyday: my greek island ritual — climb up to the highest hill to be blown by the wind, fall down rocky cliffs to lay down in the cold sea, half lit in sun
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i biked up and down winding hills to windy villages smelling of sheep, frozen in time. i jumped fences, climbed down rocky cliffs for a lonesome piece of the sea. i saw in strong waters, sat on those cliffs for hours, facing the sun till its end…
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i climbed up a hill to a tiny chapel built into stone. it was only one little room - i was afraid to open the door but i did it anyway (and did not regret it). that night, there was lightening, hidden inside a cloud
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i swam naked in the sea and then two dutch men arrived. i ate in a tavern alone and treated myself to ice cream (mastic flavored) while watching sunset over the town by the tempo of apollo. i woke up at 3 am to a mosquito and a clear night sky, rich in stars.
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i woke up in a peaceful place, alone with the elements, where i only hear the sea and myself breathing. time is slow here. i measure it by how light changes over the sea, how clouds move —
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being alone on a greek island in autumn feels like being the last guests at a party. shops are closing and even the hosts are leaving. but i am here to be with the ruins and the wind, the rocks and the sea, the weather, the stars, time, beauty.
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