Another pet fascination of mine are voices.
I tend to classify them much like a butterfly or moth collector would, arranging them in neat groups in my memory.
Whenever I meet someone or even when I just happen to hear them talk on the street or on the radio I unconsciously start analysing their voice, looking for the tiniest artefacts that make it unique, as if I am tasting a fine wine. The conscious part only comes when the analysis is complete and the voice is ranked.
And like any collector would readily admit, some items in their collection really do stand out.
Sometimes – amidst bouts of boredom – I let my mind wander into the future. There is a woman there, or at least the idea of one; I no longer bother myself with giving her flesh and blood.
And in these sessions I always end up asking the same question:
What will I mean to her, after she has decided to love me?
And then the question vanishes as swiftly as it appeared, like a passing honey bee on a warm Spring day.
Perhaps because I don’t really want to start thinking of any answers to it.
Ενώ ο κόσμος πόψε κολυμπά μες τες Σάμπες τζιαι τα Swing εγώ ακούω Kraftwerk.
“Κι αν δεν μπορείς να ζήσεις την ζωή σου όπως την θες…τούτο φρόντισε τουλάχιστον…μην την εξεφτελίζεις”
There are so many ways to die but only one to be born.
Seems unfair to me.
There should be many ways to be born too.
Out of the sea, out of the ground, out of trees
Formed out of the morning dew,
From fallen Autumn leaves or the blossoms of Spring
Τζιαι ξαφνικά, τζιαμέ που η προπαγάνδα των καναλιών τζιαι των φυλλάδων επαρουσίαζε την Κύπρο σαν Ελβετία που απλώς ήπιε πολλά την προηγούμενη νύχτα τζιαι όπου ναναι εννά της περάσει το hangover, ήρτε η απόρριψη του νομοσχεδίου τζιαι τωρά οι ίδιες φυλλάδες γράφουν ότι αν δεν πιάμε τα 156 εκατομμύρια με μισθούς εννά πιάσουν οι δημόσιοι υπάλληλοι με συντάξεις οι υπόλοιποι.
Ετσι για να καταλάβουν οι διάφοροι ηλίθιοι που τρων τις μαλακίες του Γεωργιάδη τζιαι του Αβέρωφ – τζιαι σύρνουν τζιαι ένα ρεψιματάκι τζιαι που πάνω – ότι χώρα που παττίζει σε θκυό μήνες αν δεν πιάσει 156 εκατομμύρια ούτε ανακάμπτει ούτε αφήννει πίσω της την κρίση
In the evening we were shadows
For our masters to call.
Went out last night
There was a strong sense of….distance.
No, more than that.
Everyone of the human species.
It was a profound feeling.
Seconds after chatting with someone,
Moments after cracking a joke,
It was as if it had happened decades ago
And I was half-remembering it.
Or as if it was just a scene from a TV movie
Half-watched before falling asleep on the sofa.
Their body movements
Their facial expressions,
The sounds carried by their voices
They meant nothing to me
Their figures bringing visions
Of wind-up dolls
Clicking and whirring
Through their paces.
When the present has no refuge
I turn to the past.
And whenever I listen to music like this
I feel like coming back home
From a very long journey.
When I’m in public spaces I spend time observing the faces of people.
Mostly the female ones but male ones do not completely escape my attention
I use the word spend because I have the feeling that I consume more time in this than the average person which may not even consider this as a distinct event in their day.
Faces fascinate me.
And one of the fascinating things about them is the observation that while most faces can indeed be classified as “Cypriot” or – taking into consideration our history with our neighbours – as “South-eastern mediterranean”, there are several which wouldn’t look out of place in an American or Spanish or French movie, yet the people who wear them (excuse the treatment of faces as accessories although it might make a good short story plot…hmmm…but anyway..) are as Cypriot as any of us. In some cases it has also been confirmed that parents and grandparents were native to the land.
What is fascinating to me then is the mystery of their origins. Could it be that these are signs of foreign ancestors dating back centuries that have somehow remained in the bloodline even though that element has been gone from Cyprus for centuries?
Or could it be that this goes back even further, back to when there were not distinct European tribes or nations and that these faces were always there in the bloodlines of the Indo-Europeans which colonised this part of the world and just pop-up from time to time, the genes responsible awakening from long periods of dormancy?
I wouldn’t know.
Maybe I should have studied anthropology but as it is, I can only write short blog posts and stay satisfied with merely capturing the question.
Ποιοί εν τούτοι οι τρεις singles σιόρ;
Να πάω να τους έβρω τζιαι γω να γίνουμε τέσσερεις.
Να κάμουμε κουαρτέτο, να τραγουδούμε στα ζευγαράκια πόξω που τις βιτρίνες των εστιατορίων την Παρασκευή
The Three Singles
Coming to a theatre near you.