53 TOWERS

                      Driving in France from Spain on A9 to the way to Narbonne, it worths turning left to the A61 in order to reach Carcassonne. Romans found the hill Carcas proper for trades around 100 BC. They have built the fortified city with the strange name Carcassonne. The famous gothic architect and  restorer Eugene Violet-le-Duc was amazed by the location and the concentric design of the towers, preventing enemies to invase into the city. He restored the roofs of the 53 towers as pointed cones, giving a modern attitude to the ancient beauty. Nowadays, the population of Carcassonne reaches almost 50,000 people, who live mostly in the new part of the city. 

                     Unfortunately, I was not able to stroll using my satellite. I wish I could access the medievial city, but street view is forbidden, so I enjoyed the landscape by viewing photos. The summer festival, one of the major cultural events in France, includes circus, theatre, music, dance and more. Every year, on the dark sky of the 14th of July, at 22.00, many fireworks enlight the city for more than 20 minutes. I imagine Sweet Heart and me enjoying this spectacle live. I can also see the bright eyes of Sweet Heart exploring all these towers, torture monuments, full of battle memoirs. Looking at me, I can hardly run through the city's center with my long and heavy old dress. Concerning little Angel, I can see his face full of dirt and his clothes full of new holes. All I have to do is to close the satellite view and to insert in the imaginary view of my brain. Back to reality, I sit on my new-tech chair, in front of my clean computer, far away from dust, towers and battles...

Goddess of mercy

          After a long day at work, I decided to visit Japan. Searching for "temple" or "garden", I was lucky to find the one of the oldest buddish temples in Tokyo, Senso-ji Temple.It was really interesting to learn about the historical details, but I prefered to observe the landscape. In order to aproach the inner buildings, I had to cross the 250-meter street full of shops. The main coulours- red, yellow and white- were in contrast to the transparent glasses of the skyscapers around the location. Then, I entered the main area through the impressive gate "Treasure House". On the left, I admired the five- story Pagoda and the Main Hall, devoted to Kannon Bosatsu, the Goddess of Mercy. In front of me, the Senso-ji Temple was waiting for the visitors to explore it inside. Unfortunately, my street view does not allow me to enter. I explore the yard of the Main Hall and I see a tree, which survived World War II. 
          Searching for the Goddess of Mercy, I meat Guanyin or Kannon, an outstanding ancient "observer of the cries of the world". A wood carving showes a peaceful female humanoid creature, which stares at me at sitting position, with her right foot elevated on the seat. A novel icon depicts Guanyin as Mother, resembling Madonna. I think for once the need of many people to picture their Mother as Holy and to return to Her at need or for mercy. 
          Listening to the news of the world through my forgotten switched-on television, I land to earth. My Goddess of Mercy is always living in Tokyo...

Across the River and Into the Trees

                

                   Ernest Miller Hemingway was never my favorite writer. I had almost slept reading his famous "For Whom the Bell Tolls" when I was a teenager bookworm. The only period of time that I started to feel fond of this depressive personality was when I read "Teresa" by Freddy Germanos. In this historical novel, Teresa, member of a famous political family in Greece, lived with and loved some of the most famous artists and personalities in the early decades of 20th century. Her greatest love of all was Ernest.

           Being in Key West few years ago, I stared with awe outside Hemingway's House. Travelling on a satellite, I still see the house-museum in a yard full of trees. He had chosen a place for rest, an exotical destination away from the popular Miami beaches. In Key West of Ernest's era, all he had to do was to put on his summer hat, to catch on his bike and to smell the mixed with sea drops and plant's juice air. Leaving the bicycle to lean on the wooden structures of a dock, he could share a lonely place to write, viewing Mexico Gulf. A tea or a coffee, a cigar and maybe a bottle of alcohol drink could have made him to cheer up; but only until his next episode of melancholia.

           Leaning on my bureau seat, a call from Demetra returns me back to reality. She wants to meet us outdoors someday. That's how Greeks communicate: "Let's go out for coffee someday." "All right! See you!". You never know if you ever meet them, but you are happy that they care about you.  Sweet Heart has gone to the super market for shopping. I grab the keys of Home and go out to pick up my Angel from grandparents...

                  

Catch on...brain spacebus!

           Returning home after every working day is combined with pure silence. Sweet Heart is still at work, the baby is playing with grandparents some blocks away and my body is melting on the enormous coach of our small living room. 

           It's time for switching on the pc and start travelling around the world. I started those brain trips some days ago, surfing in special earth view programme, when I wanted to detect my aunt's home in Rio de Janeiro. It was funny. Travelling around the world, I discovered street view. Walking around unknown streets, I recalled my lonely trips to different countries due to obligatory scientific conferences. Then, 3-dimentional photos, included in big round-shaped baloons and attached in specific landmarks, made me shout out loud with excitement! Real non-moving human figures share the lost moment of their real past with the present and the future simultaneously! 

           Today, firstly I search for Home. No street view is availiable. Then, I travel to Santorini. Some extra summer breeze over the dark autumn afternoon is the best remedy to my overflowed with rubbish mind. I'm nearly listening to the cat miaouings from the studio's yard next to my hotel balcony. What a view! The remnants of the volcano exaggerate the sharpness of the surrounding land. The buildings appear carefully constructed, opening their windows to the glorious sunset on the Aegean sea like sunflowers.

           The telephone is ringing. I wish I didn't hang up, but a patient calls in anxiety because she suffers from pain a week after receiving chemotherapy. I wish it was Sweet Heart; then my trip to Santorini wouldn't have been interrupted... 

            Next destination: Florida...For today, I have to ride some blocks away in order to face the smile of my beloved son...