High, Higher to the highest explosion of emotions Low, Lower to the lowest reaction of devotionsIn between there is air, feeling the gapbetween what is half full and what is half emtpy////////////////////////////////////////////The mortal life is half emptyThe immortal one is half full And what lies where the half empty meets the half full is a feeling of emptinessthat meets one of completion what I call a heartwhat I name G A R I A what you all see as thin horizon of Air
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The ride is going upMy thoughts get lighterI want to release all those invisible parts escape,let them become one with what lies in between they run far away from methey run around in cyrcles
to find the
meeting point of the ones who live inS i l e n C e Si Lence S I L E N C E
they go in cyrcles
they go towards West
cyrcles of my thoughts
but look towards the East
cyrcles of my thoughts
My ride still goes Up but that aint the stairway to heaven The stairway to heaven is right belowat that moment that I am at the lowest, point of my ownexistence where the human cant meet the god in me and i can no longer call myself a writer the way Roland Barthes describes one Take my ride down again take it down let the lady see the ground let the heart hear its sound sobbing for its emptiness new cyrcle of my thoughts lead to a great desire make the heart wonder harder make the heart break the silence harder off we go so that we rise up again as a whole a Human - a God - and a heart that is our Muse - I am Free --------// Am I blind? Do you see more in what lies between the half empty and the half full? Release ME with your thoughts... - Maria Garozi
//Last night the city's sounds marked inside me a feeling of bluriness. A blurry image like the above photo which I took last year in east village. I wandered around like a ghost. The streets were lighted up, the friends were shopping,the designers were being glorified, the magazine editors were shinning like bright creative stars.
Fashion Night Out! A global celebration!I was part of it But I had still that blury feeling...I wasnt sure I should be celebrating or not. I could still smell ashes underneath the red carpets on the streets.
But today,as I was looking at the children modeling at the first Kids Fashion Week /Petite Parade at the Metropolitan Pavillion which was supported by a magazine I work for;VOGUE Bambini;the blury image started becoming more clear and crispy inside me. I saw hope and new life, apart from the cutest Fashion ever!
Walking home, outside of Mc Sorley's Old Ale House I saw the most impressive runway ever. An array of Harley Davidson motorcycles modeling on 7th street. "You should come more often guys with these beauties in our hood" I said to one man who was just fixing his Harley.
"We came from Rhode Island" he replied
"Are you part of a motorcycle club?" I asked
"NO, WE ARE POLICE OFFICERS FROM RHODE ISLAND AND WE CAME TO DRIVE IN THE STREETS OF MANHATTAN IN HONOR OF THE VICTIMS OF SEPTEMBER 11TH." "That's so nice of you. I was so busy with Fashion Week that I didnt manage to think about Sept 11th. But also I am Greek. I wasnt here when it happened. I live here only the last 6 years" I added
"Wherever you are from, whoever you are, dont forget that we are brothers in arms in this world. What you like doing most?"
"Writing" I replied
"So, go home and write. And know, that you did it in honor of the victims of that day"
And just like that the city's streets were not blurry anymore.....
and I realized that we have to honor the past but also keep the celebration going on! We have to enjoy life as brothers in arms ...//
The family was still at the apartment on Agiou Polykarpou Street in the area of New Smyrni in Athens. This had been the family's first home since my parents had exchanged vows to be a married couple. It was a two bedroom apartment with a big kitchen area, a very large living room divided in two differenet spaces and one bathroom. Mother and father had the bigger bedroom while I was sharing the smaller one with my Yiayia (Grandmother in Greek). She was my mothers' mother.
It is a Friday night around 9pm. We are still waiting Mother to come home from work. Yiayia is in the back of the apartment in our room taking a nap. She is definitely snoaring at this moment. It only takes her 10 minutes of quite sleep and then she starts snoring with a deep loud snor that keeps me awake and all I can do, is start clapping loudly with the hope that she will get scared, wake up and stop snoaring. But usually, it is not effective. I only achieve to listen to my clapping as it is echoing in the room which keeps me even more awake and in the end I need to start counting the 100 Greek sheeps to put myself into sleep. Thankfully, it is not yet time for me to go to bed. Mother had promised to bring us souvlakia home from Thanassis in Monastiraki so we will stay up with father and wait for her while doing our favorite thing; watching American music videos. As father puts a tape in the VCR to play, I start having my first encounter with the then representation of the ultimate American Rocker; Bruce Springsteen. Blue Jeans stretched allowing me to visualize the singer’s sex, white shirt placed loosely inside the jeans, short sleeves turned towards the elbows and a cool slow movement of the hips as the singer dances.
“Look Maria, Look what he will do now” Dad said while Bruce was stretching his right arm to reach Courtney Cox who is one of his fans on the video and brings her on the stage with him to dance.
“And wait until you listen to the next song” he added
The lyrics started like this:
Born down in a dead man’s town
Born in the Usa I was
“BORN IN THE USA” father screams loudly in the living room
“BORN IN THE USA” I yell back at him
In America, the Born in the USA song expressed signs of hope in the daily fight of the standard American in following the American dream and not only. It had many more meanings.
In our Greek apartment, the Born in the USA song expressed signs of hope and love. Signs of a strong connection betwen a standard Greek father and his daughter. For few years, it became our home's anthem!
Right after that Rockin night at home, I remember father giving me one of my most memorable gifts, that is after the world globe, which I kept next to me by my bed for about a whole year. It was my first tape ever and most loved one since it had Bruce’s adorably shaped butt on the cover and the American flag as a backdrop. I used to take that tape everywhere with me. I hid it in the school bag and go proudly to listen to my school teachers preaching about Math, History and literature while I had my mind set at that moment that we were at the living room with Father singing as the band of Springsteen.
I often wonder now days if father ever thought that all I wanted to truly do when I left home to come to America, was to hear him saying in the land of USA the below lyrics from the Born in the Usa song:
I am a true Rockin daddy in the USA now
Because that is who he is becoming. It is not difficult to imagine the union with my father on the studio apartment on 6th street once I will be an American citizen and father will be a true Rockin daddy in the USA. His smoky eyes and woolflike lined up teeth smiling of admiration for the woman I have chosen to become while glancing at the art-covered walls, the racks of books and the Finding Eidothea book cover mockup hanging as a big poster on the bathroom.
I give him to wear the leather used motorcycle jacket that I bought for him from a St. Marks vintage store. I am already wearing mine. The You Tube video of the Born in the Usa song is on. We are singing together again while mother cooks for us in my small east village gas stove the traditional Garozi family breakfast; two sunny side up eggs, sausage (the famous parizaki in greek) and small pieces of kasseri cheese.
