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.
 

 

The chair heart.

This is possibly the only chair you wouldn't want to burden by sitting on it. And even if you tried, you wouldn't make it. It's made entirely of paper, it has no colour and it's seethrough. It is the chair of your love dreams.

Drawing made by Diana.

 

 

John's heart.

John's heart was drawn with black acrylic paint. It lasted for a while and when it was fully gone, John was hit by the absence. He kept wandering on the pebbled beach looking for it. He looked under the stones, in caves and behind leaves. He swam far out in the sea to search for it. Under the water and on the surface, hoping it floated. He found it later that day in his tent. It was lying right next to him, brave and strong. It was in someone else's body, beating fast, just for him.
 

The couple heart.

It was all a blur. Two straws looked out for each other. Reluctant to finish off their drinks, they stayed there staring, not letting anyone take a sip!

The rebirth heart.

Lola was a strange woman. She crawled in people's lives and brought everything upside down. She made couples divorce, friends never talk again, brothers and sisters too. She was an evil woman. When she passed away, no one went to her funeral besides the priest. The priest knew her quite well. Lola's confession time was the highlight of his day. The priest unconditionally believed in forgiveness. He forgave Lola and erased her sins from the book of God.

And then, one day, a snake was born.

The island heart.

This picture is breathtaking.
It makes me question many things.

Was this island naturally shaped?
Who lives on it?
Does it have any permanent inhabitants?
How far is it from the next piece of land?
Where do the islanders rush to when there's a health problem?
Does it not sink when torrential rain hits it?

I know the answers can probably be found on the web.
But I can't help the pleasure in wondering.

The KKE heart.

Mrs. Papariga is the leader of the Greek communist party.

Here, she is wearing a red cotton skirt (made in India), a red shirt with time-made holes and she is posing for a night view picture on a deserted street in Athens.

The lettuce heart.

The lettuce heart. The heart of the lettuce. The yummiest part of the lettuce that tastes better than any leaf, is whitish, slightly green and crunchy. Today, I ate a heart.

The things you trust. Hearts too.

Τυφλή εμπιστοσύνη.

Τελικά κουβαλάμε πολύ οργή μέσα μας! Το βλέπω στους δρόμους. Στα μέσα μαζικής μεταφοράς. Στα σπίτια μας. Στις σχέσεις μας. Στη δουλειά μας. Καμιά φορά, δεν αναγνωρίζω τον εαυτό μου. Αλήθεια. Ξέρω όμως τον πραγματικό μου εαυτό. Κι επειδή δεν ανήκω, επ’ουδενί, σ’όλο αυτό το όργιο που βλέπω και λυπάμαι, από καρδίας αφιερώνω το μετέπειτα τσιφτετέλι σκέψεων στον απόμακρο και σκοτεινό κοσμάκη.

Δεν είναι τίποτε άλλο από έναν σουρεαλιστικό και ποταπό χορό, μιας που δεν διαβάζεται, αλλά ρουφιέται. Σαν μια ουράνια κλανιά που εισπνέεται. Έπειτα ταξιδεύει στα εσώψυχα μας. Και φεύγει από μέσα μας αφήνοντας μας πιο ανάλαφρους και έτοιμους για την επόμενη μέρα. Παρακαλώ, ρουφήξτε:

Από παιδί με (σας) πλάσανε, με (σας) δίδαξαν αξίες ξεχειλισμένες από επίθετα. Μεγαλώνοντας, με επίθετα έκρινα (κρίνατε). Γιατί έτσι μεγάλωσα (μεγαλώσατε).  Μα πόσο πολύ, αναρωτιέμαι, πρέπει να εμπιστευτώ (εμπιστευτείτε) τη διδαγμένη/διδαγμένη εμπειρικά εμπιστοσύνη; Να:

Το τσιφτετέλι των ‘επιθετι-κών’ σκέψεων:

Σωστός χαιρετισμός

Λάθος απάντηση

Αγενής χαρακτηρισμός 

Φτωχή γνώση

Πλούσια μόρφωση

Καλή δουλειά
Αξιοπρεπής δουλειά

Άριστη προϋπηρεσία

Γελοίος κόσμος

Υπεύθυνοι γονείς

Καρδιακοί φίλοι

Λογική ερώτηση

Νοσταλγική ανάμνηση
Σωστή απάντηση

Ναι, ναι, τώρα που δεν είμαι πια παιδί, ξέρω το «savoir faire» του κάθε τι.

Έχοντας εμπεδώσει τις κοινωνικές αλήθειες που στριφογυρίζουν γύρω μου σαν τα τελειώματα του κυκλώνα, συνειδητοποιώ ότι φτιάχτηκα έτσι από τυφλή εμπιστοσύνη. Εμπιστεύτηκα ότι μου δίδαξαν, ότι με αγάπη διάβασα, ότι με περιέργεια άκουσα, ότι με δύναμη αποφάσισα.

Μια φίλη υπνωτίστηκε. Στόλισαν, το λοιπόν, την εμπειρία της με επίθετα. Ο πεπειραμένος υπνωτιστής άφησε μια λευκή γραμμή κιμωλίας. Εκκίνηση το τώρα με άγνωστο προορισμό κάπου μέσα στην ακίνδυνη αναζήτηση της προηγούμενης ζωής. Την ρούφηξε, όμως, το ταξίδι του χρόνου και την ξέβρασε στο κύμα μιας ξεχασμένης εποχής.

Στο τώρα μου, δεν ξύπνησε ποτέ. Μες στο μυαλό μου δεν την έθαψα ακόμη, πώς θα μπορούσα να δεχθώ ότι απεβίωσε; Κάπου κάπου, την χαζεύω να σιγανοπερπατά με ρολόι τον ήλιο. Άλλες φορές πάλι, πετροβαμμένη, ξεπροβάλλει μέσα στο βρώμικο πλήθος. Οι γροθιές της σπαράζουν καθώς αποθεώνει ειδωλολατρικές θυσίες σε βωμούς αρχαίους, αιματοβαμμένους στο μπορντό της αρτηριακής ξεραΐλας. Αλλά ζει. Μέσα στην άγνοια της τυφλής εμπιστοσύνης. Την ίδια άγνοια που παραμονεύει παντού και μας υποδεικνύει, με επίθετα, τι είναι σωστό, τι είναι λάθος.

A heart in total silence.

Ενός λεπτού σιγή;

Ενός λεπτού σιγή ζητάω,

Ενός λεπτού σιγή, και γιατί όχι, και λίγο παραπάνω,

Ενώνοντας λέξεις τυχαίες, νόημα πήγα να βγάλω

Μα πάλι με τράκαρε μια ατελείωτη, βασανισμένη κόρνα

Και μια γουλιά από ουίσκι όταν σιγο-κατάπια διψασμένη

Ακούστηκε το γκάζι κάποιου φρικαλέου, κακο-παρμένου οδηγού

Στα Μέσα έβγαλα ένα χαρτί να γράψω σκόρπιες σκέψεις

Με κοίταξαν δυο δίποδα κι έτρεχαν τα σάλια στις αόρατες ποδιές τους

Άκουγα τις σταγόνες τους, να βρέχουν κάτι στέρεο

Δύο κεριά όταν άναψα κι έστριψα δηλητήριο να καπνίσω

Έφυγε ο νους μου δευτερόλεπτα

Μέχρι που απρόσμενα ένα μπιπ κατέλαβε το χώρο

Κι όταν στους δρόμους τσάρκα βγήκα, νωρίς μια Κυριακή

Δυο νέοι συζητάγανε ή έβριζαν για την κρίση

Τίποτα σπουδαίο που να μην έχω ήδη ακούσει

Προσπέρασα τους βαρετούς και διέσχισα ένα δρόμο

Κι εκεί στο πέρασμα που γλυκά ονειροπολούσα

Κάτι με ξύπνησε και γύρισα για να δεχτώ μια μούντζα

Μια μούντζα, δηλαδή, τις πέντε αισθήσεις μου να χάσω

Τι πιο κοινό σε χώματα που είν’ ήδη μουντζωμένα

Πολύ οργή, ρε φίλε, γύρω γύρω

Θυμάται άραγε κανείς τον ήχο της σιωπής

Έστω για λίγο, ενός λεπτού σιγή, για να σκεφτώ γλυκύτερα

Λάθος τι κάνω; Τι άνθρωπος με θέλετε να γίνω; Τι πρέπει να δίνω;

Όλους σας εβαρέθηκα με τις βρισιές σας, και τις οργές σας, τις άθλιες σχέσεις σας

Μα πάνω απ’ όλα

Σιχάθηκα τη βαβούρα σας, σαν μελισσο-στρατιές τρυπάει τ’ αυτιά μου,

Κι αυτή η πουτάνα η σιωπή, με ποιον κοιμάται πάλι

Χωρίς αυτήν χανόμαστε

Ξεχάσαμε πώς να κοιτάμε μες στα μάτια

Και  ν’ αγαπιόμαστε

 

The Panda heart. 

Panda feels like there is no affection in the world of the human. Panda feels human is greedy, materialistic, money-thirsty and egocentric. "Where has the core of emotion gone?", Panda wonders. "Where is the collective spirit that the Panda communities cherish gone?", wonders Panda once again.

And "why does human distinguish between animal and human since we are all animals" cries out Panda and takes a sign to go out and save the world of selfish human.

Furious and sad with the end of romanticism, Panda left from this picture on real time.  

 

The Free Hugs heart. 

No one hugged this man back there. I know because I was there. Did I hug him? What do you think?

The water-meter heart.

Right, then. I think this is a water meter. Otherwise, it could be an electricity meter, a people passing by meter, a sun heat meter, a stupidity meter, a flower petal meter.

At first, as I was looking at it, it seemed quite ugly and the only thing I liked about it was its orange colour. Now, I like it more.

The "Karyatides" hearts.

The marble ladies at the Erehtheion temple on the Acropolis, the Karyatides, have been sharing their secret for thousands of years.  If you've been there you must have heard the story whispers that travel around with the strong August winds. If you haven't, here is how it goes:

They say that if you look at them long enough, if you focus on their eyes in a long, painful silence, your pupils will expand, the surrounding landscape will disappear in order to make them the only center of attention. Their faces will start to shrink till they reach the size of a pin-needle head. It is precisely then, that they will jump out of their marble selves and stroll around the ruins, crossing all those passers by around them, who will never discover the secret you have.

One of them is in the London museum. But there, you see, there is no secret. The Karyatida of London will never have a heart.

The meditation heart. 

Somewhere between the confusion, the crowds, the noise and the hidden sounds of nature that become so loud with meditation, this man found the balance. For quite a while, actually.

 

The disproportionate heart II.

On the 5th of July, this girl met by a chance another person with the same kind of disproportianate heart. It was a boy. The couple with the disproportiante hearts in now officially together. They no longer call themselves 'the couple with the disproportionate hearts'. Because now, they both look so normal to each other.

The disproportionate heart I.

Some kind of malfunctioning in the womb cause this.
And the boy always wondered who would want him with a heart like this.
Until one day he found a girl... with exactly the same problem.

The Chiyoda heart.

In Tokyo, it is everywhere. Love, that is. Even on pavements.
"CHIYODA - Yes, we love."

The Love & Hate chart pie.

In the Love&Hate chart pie, there are no statistical figures to show you what amount of the global population belongs to which piece of the pie.

There are but two pieces in the pie though.

If you belong to the smaller one, you are blessed.
If you let anyone make you think that belonging to the small one is idiotic, you are a naturally born idiot.

The street painting heart.

This is what I came across while walking down a busy street in Athens.

Whether you believe it or not, whether you are a romantic or a bone-cracking realist, hearts are everywhere.

And hey, I didn't mention 'love' is everywhere. I just said 'hearts'.