- Your Gypsy is a wish -

Through sounds lost in the past, the song that meant freedom became love tonight.

It was a night in white satin. The lady’s voice was echoing from the white polo car’s windows through the hill of Lycabettus to the tip of Mountain Dionysos to the deep blue waters of the Aegean. Athens was lighted. And so was I. I knew that a Gypsy I was. I knew that a wish I was but remained there listening to his music. I fell in love with that music. So much music. Deep in my skin.

Psichiko, Athens 2002

My Dear P.A.,

It is Sunday, March 20. Year 2011.

It is cold now. I have never imagined writing to you in these hours. But...

...Your Gypsy is here with me tonight. She definitely is a real wish. Some days, she is a wild horse running away from everyone. Other times she is a wolf who wants to eat me alive. And yet, today she confronted the truth and admitted to me that without you, she wouldn’t have become the Gypsy she is today.

As she was opening the envelope that she found this morning in the mail, she looked at me and said: “Can you hear the airplane’s engine?”. “I hear” I replied even though there was no airplane around.But we both heard that engine and felt our freedom approaching.

As the engine’s sound was becoming louder and louder and reality was drifting away from the room, all those images of suffering appeared in front of me. Images from the time that I had no name in America..no identity. An independent survivor with no real name working day and night. Images from the time that I had to eat the same can of tuna for about a month. Images from the time that the falafel place on MacDougal street was the best place in my weekly menu. Images from the time that I had to sleep on an empty room with Elvis; one of the building’s mouses walking through my hair every night.

And the engine stopped.

I opened my eyes and realized that I had managed to survive in New York and make my dreams come true. I had managed to find Garia and Eidothea. You havent met them, although I think you knew them from the start. And now your Gypsy, our Myth and I are free to fly!


I wonder, if your Gypsy comes back home, will you wait for her at the airport to take her to the city of love? Just take her there for few hours. She longs to see the view of Athens again listening the haunting voice of Stevie Nicks with you by her side. I can listen to her singing now:

"So I am back

to the velvet

..............

I am back to the

Gypsy that I was

......

And it all comes

down to you...

You see your Gypsy

........

It is cold now.

Together with this letter, I am sending you two photos. One is from the concert of Fleetwood Mac in Las Vegas two summers ago. Look at the sky now from where you are seating.

Can you see that dot in the sky? It is our airplane flying back to you,tonight.

Love,

G.