Monday, November 24, 2014

Photo Diary: The Hands

How can you see a full life,  
through a small window, 

where nothing is present, 

and only scars talk to you?

Lonely dry hands on the floor
Tired of being in use
Tired of being abused
They linger through uncertainty
And they regret those moments
of pure misconception in time.

They scream and they die
On every day routine, dreadful.

They lie and they cheat
Under the covers of my life.

And somehow they survive, God,
that burden of human soul.
Dreadful.

Grab the tiny things, 

and rest them next to you with colors, 

in order to survive, 

the dreadful mornings. 


Leeuwarden 2014. 
Photos taken with Iphone 4.
Vicky Griva Photography ©

Tuesday, November 18, 2014

Το τίποτα

Κοιτάζοντας το τίποτα


Κάθομαι και ανακυκλώνω το τίποτα
Μέσα στις γωνίες ενός πουθενά
Από όπου η σκόνη και το χώμα της ζωής αλλάζουν μορφή
Σαν να χτίζονται στις χούφτες των αδυνάτων
Και από εκεί να μοιράζονται στις αυλές των πλουσίων
Κάθομαι και ανακυκλώνω το τίποτα
Με δρεπάνια και τσάπες ενοχλώ τη Γη
Και σαν από θαύμα επιβιώνω από δαύτη
Ισχνή και άοσμη σαν τις στεγνές ορτανσίες
Μικρή και σάπια σαν τους καρπούς που δεν μαζεύτηκαν ποτέ

Vicky Griva Photography ©

Saturday, November 15, 2014

Photo Journal: A day (or two) in Limassol

Wandering at the old town,

through the yellow bricked buildings,

where details are present,

in the magic graphic streets. 


A walk between those yellow bricks provoke beautiful sentiments. Historical places, monumental buildings. This is Limassol. Old and new combined together. The old town stands right next to the touristic small streets where drinks, food and souvenirs prevail. Walking down the graphic small streets next to the beautiful, colored from the noon sunlight, building, we found our way through the central point. The old town is magnetic, but the new is exciting. All in one.

Our great, "touristic" lunch. 

The Medieval Castle from the inside. 

Blurry sunny view from the castle in the center of the city. 

"Selfie"

Inside the historical stones


and outside to the long labyrinths. 


The Medieval castle stands alone in the middle of the central square, showing off its power and sheer dominance over the touristic frenzy. Shields and armor, history and wars. A few steps further and the new marina is on our feet. A small dock with benches gives the opportunity to drift away for a bit and relax, while enjoying the – what it seems – endless sunset in the horizon. 

Sitting at the lonely bench,

gazing at the long sunset. 


We are staring at the sea, but we wake up from our trance, having this urge, this feeling to discover more. So, a walk next to the sea, along the brand new marina, is ideal. The fresh stones on the ground reveal the urgency of the new, while the parks at the back smile with satisfaction that they can look freely at the sea. The construction barriers that stand along the path are small distractions. The picture is not made yet. Wood is planned to float next to the shore, in a desperate attempt to enjoy the sea as close as possible. Ah, we humans. Always building and destroying, always building and destroying. Even the darkened palm trees laugh at us from above. Can you really overcome Nature?

People enjoying.

The long palm trees, 

in the brand new path next to the sea. 

Yellow stones next to the sea.

The city view from the opposite side. 


Walking till the big bridge that connects the street, we are crossing sides. It i already late in the evening either way. Some last pictures and some last notes and our relaxing time begins at a local patisserie, only to end with the best of impressions of a city that captures you instantly. We saw only a glimpse of what there is, hopefully to explore more in our next visit. 

Resting at the rocks next to our footsteps.

A small beach along the way.

Last pictures,

made at the glimpse of a wonderful city. 

Limassol, Cyprus, October 2014. 
Photos taken with Iphone 4 and Pentax p30, kodakfilm 400. 
Vicky Griva Photography ©

Wednesday, November 12, 2014

Photo Journal: Mountains and Wars

Mountains
Mountains full of pain
Red lines are drawn
through our aspirations














Πόσα βουνά τραγουδούν αγέλαστα
πνιγμένα σε πράσινες αδιέξοδους
αδιάφορα στα λεπτά του κόσμου
άχρωμα στη βοή του πολέμου.

Ο γκρίζος ουρανός ξεγελά τα μάτια μας
τα διάφανα σύννεφα αποχωρούν
και οι καρδιές μας εισπνέουν οξυγόνο.
Ανήκει όμως σε 'μας;

Ένας περίεργος ήχος συνοδεύει τα βήματά μας.
Σταματώ, μα εξαφανίζονται
στη δίνη των μαχών τα κάστρα φαντάσματα.
Και το δάκρυ σκάβει τα πρόσωπά μας.

Πολλοί κατάφεραν να πετάξουν
Με φτερά ξένα, φτερά αλλονών.
Σκουπίδια στις αυλές των γειτόνων
αφήνει η άσφαιρη ζωή.


Το Νόημα Κανένα.


View from Buffaveno Castle in the Kyrenia mountain range. 
North Cyprus, October 2014. 
Vicky Griva Photography ©


Tuesday, November 11, 2014

Dried Moments

Dry land,

When the sun falls down I hear the sunlights through my windows. They hit ferociously asking for my attention. And when I do look at them they overwhelm me. Those moments everything around me stops moving. The clocks disappear and instead boxes with wheels stand silent on the walls. Time is obsolete. And everything dries and everything dies. And then suddenly everything altogether screams for attention I cannot give.

everywhere I go,

everywhere I see.

How could the dryness of the wind and the absence of time fit so good together? But what am I muttering about in the almost dark room? Can anybody hear my dry weak voice? It is getting quickly dark outside now too and one glance is not enough to absorb the warmth of the light.  


And I touch the ground,

with my bare hands, 

Suns are not for pleasure, are not for warmth. They are for tearing apart the dryness in our mouths, the one that is sticky and black. Do not look back, do not look away, look straight into the sun. Maybe then the dead leaves and stones on your table will start making some sense, under the darkness of your dry room.   

wishing for the moment to stay forever. 

Vicky Griva Photography ©



Monday, November 3, 2014

The First Impression


The barricades and the deserted houses

Ledra street crossing point and Human Rights monument

The street that leads to Ledra street crossing point

A sad, beautiful building

The entrance to the small street where carpenters work unstopably

Cyprus, Nicosia, October 2014. 
Close to Ledra street crossing point. 
Green Line. Edited with vscoapp. 


As we wandered around the small streets of old Nicosia, we happened to meet the barricades and the wires that separate this beautiful city. As we discovered ourselves the pain and tears among these yellow-stoned buildings, we couldn't stop thinking the people who can't live anymore on that building across the street we see from this point we stand. It belongs to the Buffer Zone. They cannot touch it, they cannot own it. They are only allowed to watch it and observe it. A small sample of the enormous pain these streets hide. 

The deserted houses look that they have glimpses of life in them, only vaguely. The empty black windows are like mouths of ghosts lost in time. Cracks on the walls betray their history, but they don't seem to care. They will keep standing quietly for many years to come and those cracks on their corners will only get deeper and deeper. 

We tried to take pictures having the barricades as a background but it only felt weird and wrong. Is it only a sightseeing now? Is it only a touristic attraction? The soldiers next to us were closely watching us. Young men who haven't even grown mustaches yet, are forced to serve their country when they finish high school. I could feel their eyes on us, laughing over our touristic ignorance. 

Now you see only carpenters in those streets, working endlessly close to the crossing point where lines of tourists wait to go over to "the other side". Every step we took was a reminder of the war, the remains and the agony of the Cypriots who have to live with this every single day. 

Vicky Griva Photography ©