'I am not in love with you', I said to him when I was 21.
'I am not in love with you', I said to him when I was 25.
[And I was lying both times.]
Things that happened in the last 29 weeks:
• Went to Athens for two weeks, cancelled my return tickets; ended up staying for 45 days.
• Went to Washington, gave a speech in Capitol Hill.
• People thought I am sane. I was not.
• Took a night bus to New York. Felt uprooted. Again.
• I told an American politician that I am ‘broken’—I meant ‘broke’. Oops.
• He told me that a ‘rabbi’s world is internally perfectly consistent like a Harry Potter novel’.
• I roamed New York during the night; ‘city that never sleeps’ my big Greek ass.
• I stayed in 14 different locations in two months. I was hosted by a Russian-American Jewish family; they made me think that loving functional families do exist. I want to see their children grow up.
• I cancelled my return tickets. I rented a room in Brooklyn. I swam in the Atlantic. I rebooked my tickets.
• I was hospitalised. Twice. A priest visited me.
• I took my father to the hospital. I hugged my grandmother. I distanced myself from my mother’s tears.
• Managed to ignore all my conventional responsibilities.
• I filmed myself during a mental breakdown.
• Lost a few dear friends on the way.
• I fell out of love.
• I almost fell in love.
• Returned to London. Took ballet courses.
• Felt sane again.
Anonymous asked: You strike me as someone with simply an over-developed sense of self-importance?
…and a camera. Hug?
Reaching such a level of nomadicness, I only find myself homesick for a shelter within; a portable refuge.
georgepittas asked: Nothing to ask, i am so satisfied i am here-love your photos and your ambience.
Honoured you visited, you kind sir! Stay x