I promised I’d be back soon and, true to my word, here I am! It’s been a very creative couple of weeks and I’ve really enjoyed being a ‘student’ myself, rather than a teacher, for a change. The lovely effervescent … Continue reading
I decided to put the paints away today and see if there was life beyond the garden wall, human life that is.
I know there’s plenty of wildlife; I was up at the crack of dawn again, rudely awoken this time by the deafening frogs ‘mating chorus’, down in Paraskevi valley. Judging by the almighty din, there must be hundreds of them!. Plato * wrote this about the humble frog:
“Modelled in bronze, this servant of the Nymphs, this damp songster, this friend of rain, this frog who delights in bubbling water-springs, is the votive offering of the wayfarer.
For on a day of torrid heat it saved him from the thirst tormenting him. The timely singing of its amphibious mouth led him to a moist hollow where he found water.
Following carefully that guiding voice, he came upon the well he sought for”
Blinded by the strong sunlight that streamed in as I opened the shutters first thing….
and greeted by a blue cloudless sky which held the promise of a lovely day, I decided to set off for Skiathos town. At this time of year the local bus service is reduced to a bare minimum (3 times a day if we’re lucky!). I was prepared for a long wait but within moments a girlfriend drove by and I gratefully accepted a lift into town.
The first thing I noticed was the eerie emptiness of the cobbled streets. The whole town was SO quiet – virtually deserted apart from the occasional curious alley cat.
but eventually I did find signs of human life when I met up with some friends at a favourite haunt: ‘O Batis’; a lovely restaurant with a fabulous view (perched as it is on the steps above the harbour) run by Christos and wife Lena.
I enjoyed a typically Greek meal of Horiatiki (Greek salad) and fried calamares (squid) – though I probably wouldn’t have chosen that particular dish had I met this chap BEFORE I sat down!
proud fisherman returning with his catch
....a huge octopus!
The following few hours were idled away in typical Greek island fashion; sipping coffee at a port-side cafe, listening to fishermens sea stories and watching the antics of the sea-gulls as they circled a solitary fishing trawler in the harbour .
Later on I was taken to meet a very interesting character called Giorgos. He’s the local resident ‘rag and bone ‘ man and his old store and yard is an amazing Aladdin’s cave stacked to the ceiling with old wooden dressers, chairs, carved doors, ancient pots and baskets. I was in seventh heaven till I discovered he was not actually in the business of selling anything; restoring all his ‘found’ treasures is simply his passion.
But eventually, after a lot of persuasion (and the promise of a painting or two from me!), he agreed, reluctantly, I could buy a couple of things which he insists on restoring and delivering to me before taking any payment. He then invited us into his home nearby which is filled with beautiful, old, traditional Skiathos furniture that he’s rescued and lovingly restored over the years; fine examples of a bygone era that, sadly, has all but disappeared now.
His charming wife plied us with a typical island ‘welcome’ treat; home-made quince preserve and a lethal almond liqueur! All the while I was trying to remember where I’d seen Giorgos before, his face seemed so familiar. Then it came to me; it was he who had transported the donkey to my olive grove last summer (remember the post ‘Greek Wedding, ‘Mamma Mia!’ style’?). Since then her owner had died and after finding her in a sorry, neglected state, he rescued her too and restored her to such a state of good health that he now affectionately calls her ‘Luxandra’ (the name, he told me, of a legendary literary (and particularly ‘large’) character from Constantinople who was famous for her exceptional culinary skills.
It was 8.30 at night before I made my way to the taxi rank on the deserted port where , unusually, only one cab was in service and (to give you some idea of just how quiet Skiathos is right now) the driver appeared rather surprised, then clearly delighted, to have a customer and drove me home. It transpired I was only his second fare of the day!
* This epigram is attributed to Plato (VI – 45) and is taken from ‘Poems from the Greek Anthology’, translated by Forrest Reid and published by Faber & Faber
'On Parade in Hyde Park'
Much as its good to be home and back in the bosom of my sorely-missed family after so many months away, its quite a culture shock being back in in this thriving (?) metropolis, once again. But in the last two weeks I’ve managed the transition and enthusiastically thrown myself back into the hustle and bustle of big city life, soaking-up, gratefully, much of what’s, culturally, currently on offer.
Highlights have included visits to galleries; the R.A.’s Summer Exhibition: http://www.royalacademy.org.uk/exhibitions/summer-exhibition/
the BP Portrait Exhibition at the National Gallery:
http://www.npg.org.uk/live/bpmenu.asp
and, best of all, the ‘Lure of the East ‘, the British Orientalist exhibition at Tate Britain:
http://www.tate.org.uk/britain/exhibitions/britishorientalistpainting/default.shtm
All were brilliant and totally inspiring!
Also, trips to the theatre. The new ‘Zorro’ musical is one of the best musicals I’ve seen in a long time with slick and polished performances from an amazingly talented cast and the Gypsy Kings’ fabulous music. It kept me on the edge of my seat, toe-tapping throughout – a definite ‘MUST SEE’!
Exciting and stimulating as they’ve all been, the hardest thing (apart from the weather!) to get used to is being constantly surrounded by crowds of people again, the sheer volume of traffic and the noise!. Equally, not having watched TV for over 6 months, I find the incessant bombardment from ad. companies (telling me what I MUST buy/own/have/do/eat/drive/wear/think/say etc, in order to have any kind of valid life), plus the puerile drivel (constantly peppered with foul language!) that somehow passes for ‘entertainment’ these days and, worst of all, the increasingly depressing news (murders, stabbings, nose-diving economy, social, ecological and political issues etc), are all quite overwhelming!
Maybe it’s an age thing and I’m fast turning into a ‘grumpy old woman’ but well, so be it – I am the age I am and proud of it! I absolutely refuse to be pressurised into joining the whole ‘nip and tuck’, ‘eternal youth’ culture that seems to have become the norm. Whatever happened to value-ing ‘life-wisdom’ and ‘experience’ over superficial physical attributes?. Going ‘under the knife’ will never make me look 20 again, no matter how much I spend. It will only make me look like a middle aged woman – who’s gone under the knife!!
Oh! How I long for the slow pace, simple, uncomplicated life and fresh, unpolluted air of a Greek island – and it seems I am not alone. Given all this doom and gloom, is it any wonder that Brits are leaving these shores in droves?
One comment I hear often about my work is how ‘vibrant and colourful’ it is – and how it reflects how ‘happy and optimistic’ I must be about Life in general. Well I’ll admit to feeling optimistic about Life – but it’s something, given today’s climate, I have to work very hard at, to achieve. That doesn’t mean I’m unaware or ignorant of (or worse; choose or refuse to recognise or acknowledge) the full range of horrors and strife that many, world-wide, have to face each day. Nor does it mean that I have no social conscience or that I neglect to do ‘my bit’ wherever possible to make a difference if I can, but rather that I consciously live with Hope, believing, as I do, that ‘good’ ultimately triumphs over ‘evil’ and that I actively seek out the beauty of my surroundings and in the people I meet wherever I can, taking nothing for granted along the way.
Given the mood that appears to have infiltrated society – across the board – in today’s Britain, I’m sure if I wasn’t as fortunate as I am and had no choice but to live here permanently, my paintings would be just as black, bloody, morbid and depressing, as any of the currently ‘celebrated’ artists of today, whose work reflects the world around them, as they see it. I have no intention of opening a debate on this blog, on what passes for ‘Art’ these days – there are plenty of sites far better equipped and well-informed, that can deal with such a volatile issue. I’m happy to resort to the time-old cliches of ‘Each to his own’, ‘Live and let Live’ and ‘Beauty is in the eye of the beholder’ – ’nuff said!
One thing one can’t help but notice on Skiathos is how immensely patriotic and proud (justifiably so) the Greeks are, of their country and heritage, celebrating their history and culture at every opportunity. For all that I am accepted and welcomed on the island (and I am!), I’m always kept keenly aware that I am, and always will be, at the end of the day, an ‘outsider’ – a ‘guest’ – a ‘foreigner’. And that’s fine! After all, I am not – and never can be – ‘Greek’ – for no Greek blood runs through my veins. I am British and proud of that fact but it saddens me, to feel that same sense of patriotism and ‘belonging’; that clear sense of national and cultural identity, is something we are gradually losing here in Britain.
I’m off to the country tomorrow (Lincolnshire) for a few days and I’m hoping such observations thus far are merely the result of my living in a congested, cosmopolitan, multi-cultural city where even hearing the English language spoken is a rarity. If any of the England I remember and love and any fragment of a rural, idyllic ‘English’ utopia, complete with honourable values, still exists – I’ll let you know! (Or, better still, perhaps you could let me know!)
I’ll get off my soap box now!
I mentioned, in an earlier post, A Greek travel magazine (Kathimerini gr )was going to run an article on ‘Painting Skiathos’. If you can read Greek, here is the link to to that publication: PASSPORT
And another, to a mention of the ‘Colours of Skiathos’ Art Exhibition 2008 in the newspaper: E THESSALIA
