Something about this view itches rightly at my brain. The luscious greens, the grass with its yellows, the shade of the fruit-filled canopies inviting you to lay your head upon its fresh coolness and take a sweet, fig induced nap, and the looming hill standing guard in the nearby distance. It is a place I would come back to, and perhaps I someday might.

When I was about twelve, my mother took me to Athen’s for the first time. I knew only of Olympus; the mountain of Gods. Greece for me had always been a land of the sea -home to the adventures of Odysseus, who conquered the Aegean waters with his sails, or the Ionian sea, which protected his homeland, Ithaca. But as I climbed the rocky outcrop of Acropolis, I began to notice vast oceans opening up before me, devoid entirely of water. I saw, instead, something else. I gazed upon land and life; great, awesome heaps of it, and I saw Athen’s, in all its everlasting glory.

My beautiful mother near the Akropolis, circa 2017

The metropolis of Athens, a sea onto itself

A sea of green

Here is a picture my mother took of me around the time that I photographed the film above. I am holding Maile, my beloved cat. She is gone now, living somewhere in the sky -someplace not unlike the Akropolis, I would imagine.