INSPIRATION , ART-DIRECTION, PHOTOGRAPHY: Elena Tsali,
CONCEPT, POETRY: Petros Vouniseas,
RETOUCHING: David Kaneen, Vicky Lemoni, Elena Tsali.
The sea is rising in
front of you,
A blue sheet that
covers an existence just like yours.
An existence which is lonely
or that belongs to a wondering
herd of loneliness.
You say that you know
the route, but the route knows a thousand times better than you do.
The route is the same
and never changes.
The one who changes is
you, you act and behave in the wrong way,
Your behaviour is so
superficial,
You sink in the sea and you think that you
will get away from all of your fears,
Just like a little child
But with the tiring
guile of an adult.
The one who changes is
you, aiming to get camouflaged and get away with it,
Once you are turned
into a boat, the other into a
port.
People are dressed with
the metallic armour of a boat
When their heart
decides to carry them away.
They think that with
this powerful wrapper
They will not be in
danger
In the oceans of
sorrow and misunderstanding .
They think that they
will never sink
That they will never die.
But there is something
which is even worse from death .
People who are turned
into ports,
They stand to one side
And they gaze at the rest of the world
When they have seen monsters
And they stay back
looking scared.
Boats which are turned
into ports.
From the curses of the
same old fear that they carry in
their store room
Bewitched ports that
are waiting for a boat to come and break the spell.
And the boats never
stop coming
And just when they
thought they have found a port ,
Just when they
thought they would calm down from
their powerful working engines
And they will embark
tired at a port,
They stand lonely and
betrayed .
They feel deceit.
Because when they
embark at the port,the others are getting away.
The ports are turned
again into boats which look invicible in their metallic gear .
The betrayed boats are
placed in their seat
And they are turned
into ports.
Ports that are made of
powerful cement .
Ports that are waiting
For someone to come
and embark
For someone to come
and break the spell
And among the boats
and the ports
Among the ones who
come and the ones who go
There is the endless
blue,
The relentless gray,
Or the scary black,
Higher or lower.
The waves.
They reflect the mood
of the sky,
They draw their line
following their genuine intuition ,
Following the flow of
the infinite ocean bed .
In that way they march and they go wherever they have to
go.
They are gray,black or
blue.
It depends on the day.
They look short or
tall.
It depends on the
wind.
But they move non stop
Towards the direction
which is defined by the truth of their depth.
And as long as the boats
are turned into ports and the ports are turned into boats,
They,naked and
beautiful, go into the sea
And move with its
flow.
And they never end.
They never die.
They come back to start
again from the beginning.
For another shore.
For a piece of the endless
and the infinite,
They have the color of
the sky,
They have the speed of
wind
And the depth of the
sea.
They are not armed
boats.
They are not still and
betrayed ports.
Neither they
become nor unbecome.
They just stand proud,
Like flags of their own
existence
Like banners of their
own conquest
They wave and wave..
A soldier and a banner
in the same time.
Wind.
Sky.
And sea.
Do you think it is
accidental
That the mind
rhymes
With the ocean?
TRANSALATION IN ENGLISH:
AGGELIKI STEFANOPOYLOY
