The heartless toy-soldier heart.

There is. Indeed. A heart. For everyone. Even for those who kill. Even for those toy-soldiers who decorate shelves because they get sold. And they get sold because their job is to protect by killing or just to kill.  Stop killing your toys with other toys. Stop. Give your toy-soldier a heart.
 

 

The melting-colours heart. 

Whoever wears this colour-melting hat starts seeing life from a different perspective. With a hat like this one on, you've got nothing to be afraid of. A shield will form. Colours will start melting all over creating a thick layer of frost-looking colour lava.

This is the only way to freeze your heart, protect it, and defrost it in the future so you can have a cup of pollution remedy tea with your great great great grandchildren when they are at the same age as you at the exact time of defrost.

Enjoy!

 

The Snoopy heart.  

That is not nice. Snoopy has expressed an interest in bying a heart. At the same time, Snoopy is after a balloon heart. Now, I say, anyone would automatically assume that poor Snoopy ain't got a heart and that's why he's after one. But he does. And that's what most kids believe so stop ruining it and grow young for once.

Thanks to Kim for sending me this picture. 

 

 The confused person heart.  

There was always something confusing that raised questions and made my drawn person unhappy and unable to deal with the situation. Something with the likes. Something with dislikes. Something with the hormones. And something with the thoughts. Something was definitely wrong. 

My drawn person didn't give up. With its confused heart, my drawn person first wanted, then decided, to let it be. The behaviour kept changing with the days and that was a fact. Among all the different selves, my drawn person preferred the Thursday self. 

In the Thursday self, there was a world of selves. The selves of the Thursday self were better people. Brave. Honest. Proud. Hardworking. Kindhearted. Passionate. Optimistic. Spontaneous. Not greedy. Not rude. Tolerant. Fun.  On Thursdays, the drawn person had a mixture of the best qualities of the human race.  Thus, the drawn person only socialised on Thursdays and stayed out of sight during the rest of the week. 

On Mondays, Tuesdays, Wednesdays, Fridays, Saturdays and Sundays, the drawn person fought with murderers, psychopaths, liers, wrong-doers, dwarfs of the mind, tolerance-lacking freaks, zombies, money-thirsty vampires, killer trolls. In other words, he fought with all his non-Thursday selves.

Gran's rebel heart.

Gran Vaia is not a bad person. Kind hearted and smooth, she narrated numerous stories to me during my childhood. She spoke of the war, of granpa, life in the village, goats, high life, egg pancakes with sugar,  secrets for leek pies, her idea of happiness.

On one of my last trips from Athens to Tokyo, I promised her I'd find some time to go and say goodbye. I got there late and found her at her balcony. The one with the breathtaking view. She'd grown  anxious, terrified that I'd forgotten all about her.

She offered to make me a cup of coffee but I had no time so I refused. I stayed with her for about half an hour. We hardly spoke. We only exchanged a couple of words, I remember. She was sitting on a comfy chair near the balcony edge. I sat on the floor right in front of her. I lowered my head and let it lie on her lap. With clean, long strokes, her strong hands went over my hair. Again and again, my head became lighter, all real worries evaporated and only one heavy feeling was left. The realisation and fear of leaving her behind.

That is the last beautiful memory I have of my Gran.

She walks all over my daydreams now. With a shooting gun, she tries to spot the ones that do me wrong. And there are plenty of wrong-doers.

The time has come for the aged people to take on arms and bring some light in the darkness of this world.
 

The queen heart.

Kingdom queens, music queens, fashion queens. They can all secretly touch whaterver they like. But with a heart to show, they look more timid.

Pre-heart image found on a wall in the centre of Athens.

The tattoo heart.

Vie is a chatter box, a flirt, a mad big spender. With golden spoons, porcelain tea pots and vintage beds covered with vail. Vie is a tease, a laugh, a catchy concept. Vie likes flowers, the changing seasons, the wrinkled hands, the photo frames. Vie knows how to hate and how to kill. But Vie knows better how to hide all weapons, dress in pink and dance away the worries in rose gardens and fountain drops. Ahhh. Vie is so large. She's like a song, a great belief, eternal pose. That's only if you know what I am talking about and truly see la vie en rose...
 

The conception heart.

Something's cooking in the womb.
Throw spices, add spices, stir with a sperm looking spoon, simmer and taste.

Drawing made by Alexis.

 

 

The rooster heart.

 

Mr. Rooster, Mr. Cock, was born black like ash.

 

His feathers, erect and unbent like tree branches.

 

His face was long like a stretched out bean.

 

An object of laughter and bullying in the community, Mr. Rooster had a pretty tough life. Securing his pride and manly force took him a long time. 

 

Since his birth, he'd only been accepted by one. Since his birth, Mr. Rooster's been in love. And now, he's old and mature enough to get married.

 

The Purple Rain heart.

Just before the great jump, the heart was in a state of trance. There was a scream coming from the purple rain..

Dancing away with the scream, off it went in the wetness. Drop after drop, the little heart felt the freedom expanding in its chest. A chest so wide, full of forrest air, oxygen and herbal scents from the autumn grounds.

The chest was freedom.
Freedom in the purple rain.
 

The Amorgos heart.

One of the most beautiful islands of the Cyclades in the Aegean sea. Breathtaking view. And when you don't look up, you might as well look down. And see this.

Thanks to Vicky for the picture.

The abstract table heart.

I eye my leg with a horse bone. My foot stays still on the moving earth. My breath smells of punk junk and two days ago someone knocked on my head to tell me I was standing next to myself. I told them to piss off and drew more lines on my spine. I munch wood and take naps on half eaten tables. I am nobody and I know it. Whoever thinks of being somebody is nobody.

In all my madness, one is certain. That I have a heart.

Drawing made by Diana.

The street girl heart.

I found this girl during one of my strolls in Athens. She got my attention because she was screaming out strange stuff, incoherent, random. Like sentences made up of words that don't exist in any dictionary, words which were put together to form sentences that had no meaning to us, the passers by. So I took her home. I gave her a heart. And the most brilliant thing happened. She now talks the same way. Except that I understand her.

The 'welcome home' mat heart.

A place for feet to step on, say hello, and enter.


Heart mat found in an Athens shop.

The toilet rug heart.

A place for wet feet to dry.


Heart rug found in an Athens shop.

 

The loveboat hearts.

This is not a peaceboat. It's a loveboat. In peace, people try to be friendly with each other. Loving is a very different concept where peace is included. Also. In a loveboat, people who find mutual liking, touch each other. Sometimes peacefully. This also doesn't happen with peace.

Drawing made by Diana.
 

The pirate heart.

If you feel like laughing coz this pirate looks like a pussy, think twice. This is Santarosa. He saved a mother and a daughter. He also killed a bad guy. He was like the Robin Hood of the oceans. Right. I won't tell you anymore now coz you'll start dreaming about him saving you too and he's only got time for me.

Drawing made by Diana.

 

The maze heart.

Can you help Lou find the right path and get to her heart?
 

 

The bunny valley hearts.

The two little bunnies munch heart leaves every morning, afternoon, evening and night. Then they go cuddle up and go to sleep till sunrise. A new day begins. They do the same.

Picture taken from a Greek painter painting.

 

The bench hearts.

Eastbourne, in the south of England near Brighton, is a beautiful place. My friend Tim comes from Eastbourne. Once, I went to visit him and we went for a walk near the beach. The long wooden path was full of lined up benches next to each other. Of dead people. Each bench was dedicated to a dead couple. We sat on one that said ''Mary & Jim''. We looked at the distant horizon, the sea, the seagulls and the pier. Just like Mary and Jim.

Drawing made by Diana.
 

 

Mr. Childhood's heart.

Oh, hello there, Mr. Childhood.

You live by the sun, you are mates with the birds.
Your life is bananas, you hear whispers through your fins.
You think of balloons, you paint dwarfs in fairytales.
You show up in parties with notorious butterfly gangs, you all sip flower coctails with gummy-melting straws till your cheeks get so rosy like blossomed flower petals.
You don't mind people, Mr. Childhood, you make friends in no time.
You sunbathe on the beach and you dream of watermelon fields.

Well, and if you can't speak Mr. Childhood, that's fine.
Stop looking at your mouth, little Mister, just look at the stars.
Take action in your hands, you need no words for that, history says.
 

 

The Wild Mushroom heart.

This Wild Mushroom is made of clay. It grows on city plants and promises to never go away. Unless you find it not to be in harmony with the city environment. In which case you'll take it out of the city plant, break it to pieces and throw it in the rubbish bin because you think it has nothing to offer.

Damn, but it does have something to offer. Can't you see?
 

 

The eye pupil heart.

The only way to deal with reality is this. So stop weeping. There's a child in you that knows how different things were at that age of innocence.
 

Mr. Wood's heart.

Hey, Mr. Woodcutter. Just letting you know that Mr. Wood wants to let you know that he hates you. I transfer this message on his behalf. Why, you must wonder. Well, coz Mr. Wood is now dead.
 

 

The Secret Wardrobe heart keys.

These keys fit but you don't really need them if you feel like taking a look inside the wardrobe.

And it's not at all like in the movie where the little girl goes in and steps out on a whole different world full of witches, bad spirits and snow.

Here, the doors slide and you find yourself facing a man made crypt that fits only people the size of your hand. If you push your whole arm inside the crypt, your fingers will soon touch a hairy ground. You'll straight away think it feels disgusting but that's only coz you won't be able to see the little place at all. Think of the hairy part as a patch of greenish fake grass. Work your fingers round the space until you find some kind of toy. You'll know it's a toy because it will have wheels and it will be made of plastic.

Pull it out carefully and dust it. If you haven't grown too old, try playing with it. If you can't figure out how to play with it, ask someone younger than you for directions of use. Don't phrase it this way though - ''Directions of use''. Phrase it differently, something like "Can you show me how to play with this toy?'' This way you won't scare kids off and they'll think you are their age, just a bit heavier and bigger in size, something like a giant human.

After you play with it for a while, sit down and take a breath. Did you have fun?

If you decide you had fun, go back to the wardrobe, put your arm through the crypt and repeat what you did before.

What's your next toy gonna be like, I wonder?
 

Patissia sign heart.

Random letters, coloured swears. Keep in mind that turning right is all you need on this fairly small street in the centre of Athens. And a last minute add: do it with love before another one goes weed picking.
 

 

Small boobies' heart.

Unidentified tit heart is looking for medium built body to fit in. Clay transforms into real flesh once the pasting is done.

Piece made by Boobie-Lover.

 

 

Big boobies' heart.

Mature woman, a confident loner for a while now.
Been through a lot, masters good tricks n quality play.
Never fakes pleasure, gives no damn for cash,
No prosthetic surgery, she's what she's got.
She likes to swear, she's eloquent.
Now, this whole package, is quite rare.

Piece made by Boobie-Lover. 

 

The cow heart.

Someone very close to me told me that on this drawing, I should have drawn the head heart the other way round with the tip of the heart being the start of the head. I think the cow would have been very dissappointed as its already autumn and she likes to look up.
 

 

The toilet floor heart.

Have you ever been to a toilet?

Have you ever been to a toilet with a star-flowery floor and a love-me note in it?

The eternal question still remains: Were they loved?
 

 

The 3 Dragon heart.

This heart was claimed by three powerful master dragons.

After years of conquering and escalating death numbers on the battlefields, the three sides came to a generous decision. The front line fighters of the three kingdoms were to be spared from the War of the Heart and sent to other trivial grounds. The back line troops were sent back to the interior grounds of the kingdoms. The aim was for the three master dragons to be left alone on this historically significant fight.  

On the day of the battle, the three of them started devouring the heart grounds, chopping off pieces, spitting out pips and scratching each other with their sharp nails in a dire need to eat as much heart as possible. The master dragon with the fastest and largest appetite was to be crowned the winner and sole occupier of the heart.

The battle is on going, digestion is galloping, the heart is slowly disappearing, its sacred grounds are vanishing from the face of dragon earth, another catastrophe is unfolding, for once again, the power will be left alone with gaping mouths staring.

And when this war is over nothing will be left. Not a dot of the heart. Let alone ethics. Just fat stomachs and neverending greediness.
 

 

The wooden box heart.

Ten drops of chestnut oil,
first simmer, then
bring to a boil.
Three spoons of tea tree from virgin woods,
throw them in pan
stay in good mood.
Cinnamon sticks, lavender dust, rosemary leaves add in with trust.
Keep in cool place, far from sun's heat,
heart box preferred, and with a blink,
you will transform it
the dead man's meat.
 

 

The silver box heart.

Grandma used to keep her heart pills in a silver heart box.
Granpa had prostate and he had a silver box too. A silver box where he kept his own pills and which we never saw.
 

 

The fishbone heart.

Sardines. Mackerels. Trouts. Rainbow trouts. Swordfish. Yellowtail. Blacktail. Pinktail. Name it. Any fish you can think of. They all have heart shaped heads. Seafood and tentacled creatures are to be explored...
 

 

The cookie heart.

Any cookie can be dipped in a hot cup of coffee. Except this one.

If you dip this one in your coffee, it will get soft real quick and break in seconds. Tiny, crunchy pieces will ''unglue'' and  sink to the bottom of the cup. You might think of using a spoon in order to try and get the crumbled pieces on it. Afterall, the idea of hot coffee mixed with soft buttered cookie pieces (fished from your cup) in your mouth is irresistible. Like a desert. A warm cheesecake but without cheese. If you feel this is ok, then let me assure you that what you are having with your coffee is not a cookie heart but the impression of a cookie heart.

If you are up for a proper cookie heart experience and you don't want to witness your cookie get destroyed in a shitty looking lake of coffee, do this: open your mouth and form a hole ten times bigger than the hole of a straw. Push the cookie heart in the hole and give it a strong bite with your side teeth. Then quickly take a generous sip of hot coffee.

This is how a cookie heart should be enjoyed.  Good luck.

The pan hearts.

Egg fried hearts with oregano and soft salmon flakes pieces. Yum!

Drawing made by Diana.

 

The boy with the finger heart.

This boy's got many birds on him.

And two hearts. The second one is made of fingers. It is with his second heart that he tries to promote peace, unity and love for the people.

At first, he tried using his first heart. But no one really noticed him. Or his first heart.

So now, he walks around with his finger heart. Everyone knows him in the city and suburbs. The boy with the finger heart. But don't underestimate this story and pull his leg for promoting what he believes in when you come across him.  Coz his fingers can change direction in no time.
 

 

The dolphin heart.

Why do people eat dolphin parts? Are they that tasty that they can't resist the temptation? Is it because fish that are not under extinction taste less better? Are they maybe like the forbidden fruit but cuter and more intelligent?

What makes fish cute? I think baby sharks are cute. And squid. I was offered dolphin once. Raw. I didn't eat any.
 

The fish bait.

The mommy showed this sketch to her daugher.  "Do you think this fish will die"? asked the mommy.
Let us be the daughter.

Drawing made by Diana.

 

The CD heart.

Vinyls, tapes, cds, mp3s, hard drives, soft drives. Music is everywhere. And you know what the best thing is? That when music is not recorded, when music is not performed, music is still there. Behind the human yelling, the bus horns, the traffic jams and the plane takeoffs.
 

 

The stone heart II.

Once I went for a walk on the beach. I found many shapes living in stones. Hammocks, trees, leaves, suns, moons, boys playing ball, girls knitting. And hearts. Tons of them. That's if you are bothered to look.
 

 

The stone heart I.

Nature has its very own ways to shape the living and non living things in it. Like stones.
 

The lamp heart.

See the light? Yep. Keep looking.

Drawing made by Diana.
 

 

Spyro's heart.

Spyro's heart was made with acrylic colour.

It stayed on his arm for a day. It faded away with the sun, his snorkelling dives and sea salt.

Spyros caught an octopus that day. He saw it swim under water with its tentacles moving slowly, opening up alltogether showing off the expanded membranes between the legs. It looked so free in a world of its own. It was then imprisoned, hit on the rocks, boiled on a camping pot, then grilled and eaten with olive oil.

But the octopus had grown old. Baby octopi shouldn't be caught, they say. And looking at it in a living and cooked form, I still have no clue where its heart was.
 

The Bear family heart.

The Bear family is moving to a quieter neighbourhood. They all did their own bits of packing. But the largest item in the house, that had no box to fit in, had to be carried.

The odd Vader heart.

Darth Vader is unmasked. He has the face of one of Greece's ex prime-ministers.

I can't help but wonder...

What could the intended connection be?

He once was the leader that brought the country to the dark side.

He represents the head of all evil.

His imperial storm troopers rushed into parliament to assist the head of all evil.

Now that I've analysed this possibility, I know for sure that I prefer D. Vader with his mask on.

 

The shadow heart.

All this night heart was looking for was something from everyday life. Something that would form the perfect angular shape so it could go and fit in.

Outside a construction block, the perfect triangle was found.

The heart run towards it, jumped in between the two strippy ribbons and landed on the very tip of them.

So excited and over the moon it was, that it didn't even notice the shadow right behind it. It was the walking shadow afterall, that showed the heart exactly where to go.
 

 

The bar heart.

This is the most decadent heart of our times. Stuck on a filthy wall next to a plugged in something of no importance, the heart is desperate. It so wants to leave and look for shelter someplace else. But deep inside, the heart knows that even the ugliest places on earth deserve a sign of life. And the heart sacrifices its life by staying there, looking forward to decorating better times.