I noticed since the ‘pause’ started, maybe because I have more time without running around or maybe because I am more calm, more grounded, maybe because I meditated a few times and started yoga I don’t know why but I noticed many memories are coming up to my head. Before I thought I had lost most of my memories, Jenny would tell me things that happened to school, or she would remember names of teachers I had no idea what they were like anymore. But now memories the whole time. So I thought I will start writing them down. Like a memoir of memories. Lejeune talking about diary and autobiography highly influenced me in this. Also Perec’s self imposed limitations. Maybe it’s time I read a little more about memory. We had a fight three days ago, on Sunday you left without saying anything. I know you are probably at your parents, but we haven’t talked since then, it’s been a year since we didn’t talk for that long. I wonder when you are coming back and what you are gonna say then. If you call maybe I don’t pick up. Cold War. Τελικα ειναι πολυ σημαντικο να ειναι ζεστο το τσάι, καθε φορα που εχει κρυωσει η κανατα και βαριεμαι να παω να ζεστανω νερο (τον εχω χαλασει τον βραστηρα αρα πρεπει να βαζω κατσαρολακι) σκεφτομαι οτι ελα μωρε και κρυο πινεται, αλλα οταν τελικα παω και μετα το πινω ζεστο ειναι πολυ καλυτερα. ΣΥΜΠΕΡΑΣΜΑ - ΤΟ ΤΣΑΙ ΠΡΕΠΕΙ ΝΑ ΠΙΝΕΤΑΙ ΖΕΣΤΟ. Ουτως ή αλλως ποτε δεν μου αρεσε το παγωμενο τσαί΄ In these weeks I will explore (mostly written) forms of autobiography. I feel a need to do autobiography in the now, before events become memories. The filter of memory seems to take away the uneventfulness of events. Key words:
Self imposed restrictions
Κλεινω ανοιγω κουτι αναμνησεων
Η γλωσσα των σκεψεων
Πως γινεται κανεις καποιος?
A night in Lisbon when my mom and her friend A. were visiting. We went to a restaurant I had been before with my friends. The owner which was also the cook really liked greek culture, he had a friend or an ex wife from Greece I’m not sure. His dishes where very good. Especially the spare ribs which were much smaller than spare ribs usually are and very juicy. I think we were the only customers, or at some point everyone left. He played thanasis papakostantinou for us and he wanted to marry me. He asked my mom for my hand. We were laughing but he was a bit too old for me and I didn’t like him this way anyway. He recommended us a restaurant to go to, on the other side of the river. Ponte final, which means the end of the port. I have a bottle of port at home, maybe I’ll have a glass later. We went, indeed we loved it. I can’t remember his name but I have the card of his restaurant somewhere with a drawing of the directions to Ponte final.
Re writing the previous memory, only one word sentences:
me. Lisbon. mother. friend. A. Out. evening. dinner. restaurant. again. nice. tavern. owner. cook. Ribs. small. juicy. table. Only. music. Greek. flirt. marriage. ask. older. not. Friends. laughing. Sitting. recommendation. restaurant. river. side. Opposite. ferry. Ponte. Walk. Final. Great. now. card. still. drawing. Where. Not.
I saw this picture of Jenny’s and Greta’s naked bodies. I took this photo when preparing my portfolio for Rietveld in Amsterdam. I have no idea how I got them to get naked in my attic room and be my models. I really like this picture. I never invited my friends to get naked in the camera for me after that. Something about how I think of the nude? Did I say I really like this photo? I don’t know if I mentioned anything for the photoshoot to my family. I guess not. A few years later Jenny showed the pictures to her mother. I really wonder how I got them to get naked in front of the camera for my project. Sometimes I miss being 16, sometimes not. It was good. The attic room is now the office of my stepbrother. He sits there for many hours, it is full of furniture. There is no space for a photoshoot like that.
Another night similar period Jenny came over and we found a bottle of Amaretto, we drunk a lot of it, I don’t know how much but we were quite tipsy. I was taking photos again. Why did I stop taking photos? My camera is out of battery. The batteries won’t charge anymore. I keep postponing buying new ones. It shouldn’t be that difficult. Anyway Jenny was taking singing classes then, she would apply to the conservatory and we would both move to Amsterdam. Her teacher was called Joanna. Joanna Drigo, I got one of her songs via bluetooth in my phone. Allergy to commitments it was called. ‘Αλλεργεία στις δεσμευσεις’. I’m gonna sing it for you. But that night she was singing ‘Back to black’ by Amy Winehouse. I’m gonna stop this memory now.
My friend C. told me that when living in London she once went to a party and under a pile of coats she saw
Amy Winehouse laying drunk on the couch.
Jenny and me were very sad when Amy Winehouse died. We walked this big street close to her house (εκει στη γωνια στο γεφυρακι) and she told me the story of Amy and her boyfriend.
The day Michael Jackson died I was at my grandparents place (στη γιαγια στο κεντρο) I guess I saw it on tv but I remember thinking about it on the desk next to the phone, as if someone had told me about it on the phone, is that possible? Was there internet there, maybe I read it on the computer? Did they have a computer in the house then? Was there internet? How many years ago did Michael Jackson died?
Εγω κι ο αδερφος μου βλεπαμε φανατικα τους Ατρομητους, νομιζω στην ΕΡΤ1. Ταααρουυσα Ταααααρουσα, καποια στιγμη τα πραγματα ξεφυγανε τελειως και ειχε γινει λιγο τρομαχτικο, νομιζω ο προπονητης τους που ητανε καλος πρεπει να πεθανε και κατεληξαν σε ενα ορφανοτροφειο με μια τρομαχτικη νταντα με μια μεγαλη ελια στη μυτη, νομιζω απ’την αριστερη πλευρα ή τελικα δεν ηταν πολυ κακη και μετα πεθανε και μετα πηγαν ολα καλυτερα? Δεν θυμαμαι. Παντως σε ενα επεισοδειο που μαλλον ηταν το τελευταιο εδειχνε εναν αγωνα ποδοσφαιρου ατρομητων εναντιων? Αυτον στον ΑΝΤ1 τον λενε ακαλυπτο α ναι οχι ατρομητο. Στον αγωνα γινοτανε χαμος, εγω κι ο αδερφος μου χοροπηδουσαμε πανω στο κρεβατι στο δωματιο του Παντελη (εκει που σκεφτομουνα και τον θανατο του ΜαΪκλ Τζακσον ) και τραγουδουσαμε και χοροπηδουσαμε και προσποιουμασταν οτι παιζουμε καρατε. Ο Βαγγελης εμπνευσμενος απο τα χελωνονιντζακια μου εριξε μια κλωτσια με αλμα (δεν τον εκανε επιτηδες να με χτυπησει, ετσι για το εφε) και η πατουσα του με βρηκε στο μαγουλο και δεν πρεπει να πονεσα πολυ αλλα ενιωσα ενα κομματακι απο κατι στο στομα μου σαν πετραδακι. Το εβγαλα να το δω και τελικα ηταν ενα κομματι απ’το δοντι μου. Δεν νομιζω να πηγαμε στον γιατρο, ηταν μικρο. Ακομα φαινεται. Παντως σιγουρα ειπε συγνωμη και δεν το εκανε επιτηδες.
I live in Amsterdam, my boyfriend who is not really my boyfriend wants to stop seeing me because he said he met an American girl, they had a date, and she seems to have more potential than me. I am very sad, I cry, I write him a letter very emotional *επικληση στο συναισθημα, καταλαβες* I tell him about our moments of happiness like when we watched Woody Allen movies while I wear his pijamas, I wrote it in greek first and then I translated it I think. Did the pijamas part make it into the letter, I don’t remember. Νομιζω ξεκιναγε με κατι για την αγαπη ή την ευτυχια δεν θυμαμαι, παντως τον αποκαλεσα ‘μικρε’ πως το μετεφρασα το μικρε? Little boy? Hopefully not. (την τελευταια φορα που βρεθηκαμε μου εφερε ενα βιβλιο με σημειωσεις του Γουντι Αλλεν και του ελεγα να μην μου το αφησει γιατι δεν ηξερα ποτε θα ξαναβρεθουμε γιατι ηξερα πως δεν ηθελα να τον ξαναδω ή πως κατι θα γινοτανε μετα και δεν θα ηθελα να τον ξαναδω ποτε, ακομα εδω ειναι το βιβλιο, ουτε που το εχω διαβασει) I’m gonna show you. Getting even? What is that supposed to mean Woody?
So anyway I left him the letter, I don’t know if I told him that I was going or not but after that we got together. I don’t want to influence my view on the past by what happened after but maybe I should have left him continue with the American girl who had more potential than me.
A few months before that. Around Christmas. First year in Amsterdam, first time I would go back. I miss my flight to Greece (although I was at the airport one and a half hour in advance). He was supposed to go to Cologne to his girlfriend but she broke up with him (did she find out he was cheating?). He doesn’t want to go to his family so he proposes we go to Paris for two days by bus. We are in Paris, in a hotel, I remember the light white miserable (I know I said I don’t want to influence the past by what happened after but I really think it was miserable, I think the curtains were dark red and the carpet dark beige (or was that the next time I went to Paris, with Cleo?). Anyway we just had sex, we are laying in bed, I feel good I think, he turns to me, I look at is face, he looks at me and he says: ‘I wish I could love you’.
Before that I was writing about tea I remembered Jonathan a guy half greek half danish which Jenny and I found very hot, blond rasta blue eyes muscles parkour and a black big dog, need I say more? Very friendly guy. I think I was working at the beach bar already, he came and bought an Arizona ice tea.
A few years ago I went to Greece for the summer and we went with my brother and his friends to the village. We invited whoever was there to our rooftop. We were sitting in a circle, looking at the sky and drinking. Someone was massaging me. Jonathan could go from sitting to a hand stand just like that.
Κουραστηκα, καθε φορα που μου ερχεται μια καινουρια αναμνηση δισταζω λιγο και θελω να την κοψω γιατι λεω ωωωω που να πηγαινουμε εκει τωρα.
Απτ’ις πρωτες φορες που καναμε παρεα με τα παιδια απ’το χωριο. Εχουμε ανεβει πανω και παιζουμε κλεφτες κι αστυνομους ή Πυθεια ή κατι που πρεπει να κρυφτουμε γιατι ειναι σκοταδι ειμαστε κοντα σε μια εκκλησια και φοβαμαι. Τι μανια με τις εκκλησιες, τα σκοταδια και τις τρομαχτικες ιστοριες τους επιανε ολους στο χωριο καθε καλοκαιρι. Εγω παντως φοβομουν.
Ενα διαλειμμα ρε παιδια σας παρακαλω, οχι αλλες αναμνησεις για λιγο. Ειναι σαν να ανοιξε ενα κουτι και να ξεχυνονται ολες μαζι. Μηπως αυτες ειναι οι πιο συχνες μου αναμνησεις? Θυμαμαι να τις θυμαμαι. Και καλα το I wish I could love you αλλα το παγωμενο τσαί΄ Αριζονα του Ιωναθαν γιατι?
What is this sour taste I get for the fifth time today when licking my lips? Is it the tea? Can’t be. Aloe vera? Tea tree oil, what is it? (I don’t really think it is the fifth time this happened to me today. I wanted to write forth but I am not sure how it’s written, fourth, forth, ford? Forthd? So I chose to write the fifth just to be safe)
I am gonna close the document and I am gonna stop thinking of memories. I will read something by Lejeune.
Ενα λεπτακι μονο να πω κατι που με απασχολει. Για να γραψει καποιος την αυτοβιογραφια του πρεπει να ειναι σημαντικος? Εγω μολις τελειωσα την αυτοβιογραφια της Αλκης Ζεη, και εκτος απο το οτι η ιδια ειναι σημαντικη (ή διασημη) εχει μεσα και στη ζωη της Ελυτη, Γκατσο, Μελινα Μερκουρη, Χατζιδακη, δικτατορια, εξορια ολα. Η αυτοβιογραφια της Αντριαννας Μουτουλα ετων 25 που μεγαλωσε στο Μαρουσι (ενταξει και στο Κουκακι και στη Βουλιαγμενη, πηγαινοερχομασταν) και ωρα ζει στο Αμστερνταμ Νορντ εχει καποιο νοημα? Γιατι να τη διαβασει καποιος? Θα εχει αξια μονο αν γινει σημαντικη? Αν γινει καποια? Πως γινεται κανεις καποιος?
ΠΩΣ ΓΙΝΕΤΑΙ ΚΑΝΕΙΣ ΚΑΠΟΙΟΣ;
πεθαίνει και ανακαλύπτουν οτι έγραφε απίστευτα ή οτι ζωγράφιζε υπέροχα ή οτι τελος πάντων είχε ενα σημαντικό ταλέντο. (Ποιος ειναι αυτος που αποφασίζει δεν είμαι σίγουρη)
Γραφει σε μια περιοδο που εγινε κατι πολυ σημαντικο, π.χ. Μια δικτατορια, ενας πολεμος, (ψυχρος και μή) ενα οικονομικο κραχ, κατι τετοιο τελος παντων. (Η πανδημια θα θεωρειται αρκετα σημαντικη περιοδος?)
Ειναι έφηβος ή ακόμα και πιο μικρός κι έχει ενα μεγάλο ταλέντο σε κάτι και γίνεται διάσημος. (π.χ. Billie Eillish) Εντάξει σίγουρα υπάρχουν κι άλλοι έφηβοι που έχουν ταλέντα και δεν γίνονται διάσημοι, αλλα τέλος πάντων. Πωπω πολυ χρονοβορο ειναι να βαζεις τονους. Αλλα ετσι εκανα και στο προηγουμενο μου κειμενο και δεν εβαζα και τωρα το μετανιωνω. Τελος παντων θα δουμε.
Δεν ξερω αλλους τροπους να γινει κανεις καποιος προς το παρον, θα το σκεφτω και θα επανελθω. Με ή χωρις τόνους. Νταξει για το η ή ή το καταλαβαινω ειναι απολυτως απαραιτητο, για τα υπολοιπα δεν ειμαι σιγουρη.
Autoethnography is a fancier word for autobiography is a fancier word for diary.
(Autoethnography is so fancy that ΤextEdit underlines it as a mistake. Like performativity was a few years back. Now performativity is no longer red. Finally dear you are mainstream.)
You are really open to me staying out late with my friends. Like when I was in the festival where I performed and you got super pissed at me for coming back at 00.30.
Do I or did I ever admire you? (Dark thought)
Every 20 seconds turn head to the left to see if there is a blue light coming from the phone. (The one that indicates a received message)
20’’ no blue light
20’’ no blue light
20’’ no blue light
20’’ blue light (it’s more white after all)
Anyway not from you. From Foivi, she didn’t know La Isla bonita was by Madonna. Last night I dreamt of San Pedro. (I had to google that, thought it was ‘last night I dreamt of san tiego. Tiego is nothing I guess. The guy in Lisbon, I think Tiago, did he write it like this? One of my last nights there, at a pizzeria. It took us some time to talk to each other. He was quite bold for his age. My father got bold suddenly, he had a lot of hair before (in photos) and then boom, bye bye hair. My brother has a lot of hair now, looks very similar to the pictures so as you can imagine he is expecting the boom. I cannot imagine him bold, though I guess my dad also couldn’t imagine himself bold but it actually really suits him. Tiago in Lisbon in the pizzeria one of my last nights there, he said ‘you need to come back soon’ I said ‘that’s what I want I graduate in one and a half year and then I want to move here’. He said ‘one and a half year is maybe too long, the city is really changing, it will be totally different’ I said ‘really? So fast you think?’ He said ‘yes yes already it’s so different from even a year ago’ I said, I don’t remember what. But four years and I didn’t go. When are we going to Lisbon? Problem is you were there with your ex and I was there with my ex so it might be a little weird, but I really wanna go.
On the scoot scoot a few hours before sunset a few minutes after the sea, hungry, dusty, sunburned, salty, sweaty, loved, sleepy, happy. I wanna take you somewhere so you know I care but it’s so cold and I don’t know where. (That’s a song)
- can you give some water to the plants?
- no I’m going to let them dry out, like our love.
LONG BREAK (not of remembering, of writing down the remembering, not generally writing, here writing)
Right now: ‘I can only encourage Antrianna to write more often and more confident’ can you encourage Antrianna by coming in the room pushing her out of the hesitation what pushing her not pushing her just a push wouldn’t work a push she gives to herself by her herself even and that doesn’t work better a kick yes come in kick her out of the hesitation and encourage her to write more often and more confident. That’s a word I’m not sure how to perceive. Confident in: singing (but not in front of singers or other musical ears, or not in the frame that I look like I believe I sing properly, what is properly anyway? But anyway) Confident in: Spreading the two lips (what you understood you understood, that’s a Greek phrase might not make sense at all in English or might make that funny sense that most Greek phrases make when translated to English like ‘grab the egg and give it a haircut’ or ‘even the funky goat will laugh’ or ‘what did you have John, what did I always have’. I can do this forever. Confident in: Doing this forever. How often is forever? If I do something forever meaning from beginning to end of a form that is me being perceived as me. (By the way I wanted to say before not very much before more like just now that I was reading what I wrote before more like a few weeks ago and there I say that ‘I perceive the form of an apple because of everything around it that is not apple’ I just now read it and wanted to say that I perceive you and what is you because of everything around you that is not you. Nice e? Eventually I want to let go of those eeeeeh aaaah e o a all those they start to annoy me. I get annoyed more easily lately is that something that comes with age or did I happen to meet more eeeeeh’s aaaaah’s e a o’s? How often is forever? So if I do this from the beginning until the end as beginning and end and the time between them was explained before I mean not really before more like just now, do I do it often? How often is right now? Here, another right now. Another right now. Now, another right now. Another right now. Here you see, another right now. I could do this forever but I would get bored. Confident in: Doing this forever, but will not because would get bored. You see, another right now. I like the rhythm. Here, another right now. Right? Now, I was reading before I mean not really before more like just now the poem by Elytis called Μονόγραμμα. ‘ Σ’αγαπάω μ’ ακούς? Μπλαμπλαμπλα ακούς? Μπλαμπλαμπλα ν’ακούς. Goosebumps. Interesting. Poignant. What interesting can I just say I fucking love it or is it outdated? Can I say fucking or is it outdated? Can I ask can I or is it outdated? Can I love a poem or is it outdated, the poem is quite old, is it outdated? The poem is pretty much about love, is it outdated? Can I love a poem about love or is it outdated? Poem, mentions the word love many many many times (I’m tempted to count them but can’t stop writing now encouraged now to write more often and more confident now) or is it outdated? Poem not queer enough, is it outdated? Me not queer enough, am I outdated? Me likes to write about love, memory, without calling it practice led or practice based research, is it outdated? Me likes to talk simultaneously with Ella, wake up at 3am and repeat each others thoughts before speaking, doing that for an hour and then going back to sleep but not being able to sleep and watching series already watched at least ten times, series that are on youtube even with many pixels even out of Netflix even sleeping at 7am, is it outdated? I forgot to breathe.
Here I'm reading you a bit of this poem in the rhythm of the exhaustion of my breathing (never have I ever read a poem out loud to someone else never have I ever recorded it, don't make fun of me yes?)
(On naming you)
You know why I don’t name you right? You know that if I would call you Sandra, Nils, Christoper, Lydia or whoever you wouldn’t be you, you would be a stranger you would not be interested you would be detached you would be thinking of someone else someone named George what a predictable name why everytime I need to find a name fast I write George I don’t know it’s easy just like that just like me not naming you, and I don’t want I want you to be you, you right now, you that I perceive as you because of everything around you that is not you, because of all those names not being you. Yes? I’m in the mood to tell you secrets today.