6.24.2010
Myself Muses
When Eleni Lekkou, the Senior Editor of myself.gr, wrote me that they are starting the MyselfMuses project and they want to write a story about me presenting me as a muse and sharing with their readers my life story leaving Greece to come to New York, my reply was:
"I am honored that you want to write about me and present me to the readers of myself.gr.Sometimes I wonder if other women would be interested to know my life story, but if my story manages to help other women take risks in life, then I will accomplish one of the final goals: Women realizing how strong they are!"
Foto by Alan Gastelum
Myself.gr is an innovative female portal by Liberis Publications that meets the everyday needs of the Greek woman for the latest news, for shopping and lifestlye all presented in a special environment that allows each unique reader to connect with the magazine team and the other readers. The reader becomes a User and is part of forums and online conversations. In 2008, just few months after its launch, http://www.myself.gr/ won the award Ermis Bronze in the category of Websites Media & Publications.
To see the article you can visit the link:myself.gr
If anyone would like to read the whole article, I will be happy to translate it for you from Greek. Email me!
- Maria Garozi
6.23.2010
My special 12
There are several types of separation-
separation from yourself,from your family,your country,your boyfriend, your lover. separation from your work, from your space, from so many other parts of one's life. even separation from your favorite cartoon character when you enter a new phase of age.
but there is one kind of separation that was new to me.
separation from the special 12.for the last months I have been taking memoir writing class I at Gotham Writers' Workshop and tonight it was the last class. When Shahnaz Habib; our teacher; left the bar we went after class for a beer, I felt an end. My eyes turned to waterfalls only to prove to myself that once again I live in the past and not in the future. After Shahnaz, little Caroline followed taking with her out of the bar doors all the innocence of her family stories.
"Why are you leaving so early?" I asked her.
"I have to wake up very early at 8am to go to work and honestly, lately I need more sleep at night than usual. I feel I am getting old" she replied.
"How old are you?"
"I am 24" she said.
"24??? And that's old? What should I say that I am 30 with half my hair white already?Dont go kid yet!"
Kara had only one beer and left right after. She left fast. I dont think she could manage the separation either.
Cindy, oh Cindy don't go now. You too? So early? Stay a while. What if we built a rubber room altogether and stay there writing for ever all of us; the special 12?
Raquel continued saying the story about her latest exciting life news but as soon as the story arrived to an end she said:"I have to go girls now"and Connie with Sebene grabbed their staff preparing to return to their lives.
For a moment, all I wanted to do was to stay there at that bar,order one more Blue Moon beer and start writing forever. Why do I have to go outside and live the future? Can't I stay here at this bar stool with a notepad and a pen and keep writing about the past?
I will miss the special 12 and especially those who didnt make it to class tonight; Sarah, Eliza and Ryan. But now that I am separated from them, I can keep living with them by making them my new characters of the short stories, the special 12.
Hey everyone, where is our Saam?I am sure if I had stayed at that bar she would have entered after you were all gone to keep me company till the bar would close at 4am or maybe 11am!
Love,
Maria
separation from yourself,from your family,your country,your boyfriend, your lover. separation from your work, from your space, from so many other parts of one's life. even separation from your favorite cartoon character when you enter a new phase of age.
but there is one kind of separation that was new to me.
separation from the special 12.for the last months I have been taking memoir writing class I at Gotham Writers' Workshop and tonight it was the last class. When Shahnaz Habib; our teacher; left the bar we went after class for a beer, I felt an end. My eyes turned to waterfalls only to prove to myself that once again I live in the past and not in the future. After Shahnaz, little Caroline followed taking with her out of the bar doors all the innocence of her family stories.
"Why are you leaving so early?" I asked her.
"I have to wake up very early at 8am to go to work and honestly, lately I need more sleep at night than usual. I feel I am getting old" she replied.
"How old are you?"
"I am 24" she said.
"24??? And that's old? What should I say that I am 30 with half my hair white already?Dont go kid yet!"
Kara had only one beer and left right after. She left fast. I dont think she could manage the separation either.
Cindy, oh Cindy don't go now. You too? So early? Stay a while. What if we built a rubber room altogether and stay there writing for ever all of us; the special 12?
Raquel continued saying the story about her latest exciting life news but as soon as the story arrived to an end she said:"I have to go girls now"and Connie with Sebene grabbed their staff preparing to return to their lives.
For a moment, all I wanted to do was to stay there at that bar,order one more Blue Moon beer and start writing forever. Why do I have to go outside and live the future? Can't I stay here at this bar stool with a notepad and a pen and keep writing about the past?
I will miss the special 12 and especially those who didnt make it to class tonight; Sarah, Eliza and Ryan. But now that I am separated from them, I can keep living with them by making them my new characters of the short stories, the special 12.
Hey everyone, where is our Saam?I am sure if I had stayed at that bar she would have entered after you were all gone to keep me company till the bar would close at 4am or maybe 11am!
Love,
Maria
6.14.2010
Jules Bastien LepageJoan of Arc, 1879 (Eva's favorite art piece)
-GIA THN EVA.
Ta matia sou
Na htan mouskemena
Kaneis de tha filouse
Kaneis allos apo mena
Pws na rthei to deilino
Afto pou ezisa konta sou
Sto perigiali
Ths kardias sou
Mono mia stigmh
Ths hremhs thalassas
Pou se krata
Agyrovolimenh
Stin eftyxia tis thymishs
Oti eimatan mazi
Afth mono th stigmh
Thelw na mou ferei
To peristeri avrio
Na petaksoume mazi
PSHLA
Sta oneira mas
Mhtera glykia
Mhtera aiwnia
Eva kai Ellada
Ma twra ta vimata sou
simanan pws epistrefeis
sth dikia sou
tin Olodikh zwh
Opws tosoi alloi
etsi kai esy
hrthes na me giatrepseis
na mou kratiseis syntrofia
Ma koita ti synevei ksafnika
me skepase me th kouverta ths
h allh vouvh syntrofisa
twn kairwn kai twn exthrwn
Na th! Kseprovalei xamogelasth
apo ta vouna pou ksysan ton ourano
san efyges
Na th! Hrthe na mou kratisei syntrofia
h varia h Olodikh mou monaksia-
- Maria Garozi
November 14, 2009 Pylos
(re-edited June 14, 2010 6th Street)
(re-edited June 14, 2010 6th Street)
6.12.2010
- MY MEMORY'S CHAINS AND THINGS
Long Beach, 2010Saturday June 12th 2010 6:14:35 am COME SEE ME I woke up by a sudden inner call. My morning coffee was not good. I made a second and a third one to get the satisfaction of its taste. I looked out from the window and wondered: What happened to that last scene that we both played well? After that, we left the chains and things and started both a journey; a mind trip as I call it. But somewhere in the night’s mind, we are still at the studio he had back then in the port of Pireaus looking the sunrise at 6:14:35 am. I was still in bed next to him. I was feeling close to him. It was the first time he had woken up early to see me in the morning. That was the morning he told me he was boarding on a ship few hours later to leave Greece.Or was it a different morning? I cant see clearly now.
Eight years ago. Its summer in Athens.
The door is open.
I walk in. My heels make a disturbing noise.
The ashtray has 7 half-burned cigarettes. Viewing them, the first thing that comes to mind is, NEED. He is seated on the couch waiting for me having one more of his cigarettes. I am bothered now that I can’t remember the brand of his smoke.
The ashtray has 7 half-burned cigarettes. Viewing them, the first thing that comes to mind is, NEED. He is seated on the couch waiting for me having one more of his cigarettes. I am bothered now that I can’t remember the brand of his smoke.
He is not saved. His beard has gotten long. His feet are naked. He is not wearing a shirt. He has only his jeans on.
“You are late” “I sent you the message to come see me an hour ago”
“I had to take a shower and it took me a while to drive here. There was traffic on the highway” “What is going on?” You are suddenly worried for me or my lateness?” I thought it was clear what this is for both of us” The door is open. Do you know this?
“You are late” “I sent you the message to come see me an hour ago”
“I had to take a shower and it took me a while to drive here. There was traffic on the highway” “What is going on?” You are suddenly worried for me or my lateness?” I thought it was clear what this is for both of us” The door is open. Do you know this?
“I was waiting for you and I don’t care for the door”
“You are here now.”
If I could reply today, I would say: “You are in my memory now. The thrill is gone but I can’t lose these chains and things of the past. I carry them with me”
- Garia August
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