Maria, Revisited

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Despite my cold and orders to stay in bed until my solo concert, I couldn’t resist an opportunity to visit Kyria Maria, the weaver in Lefkes, one last time. ¬†Since I’ve already photographed her twice, today I directed my attention to her workshop and store-room while two of my classmates did her portrait. ¬†There was a cool intensity of light coming in through the doors and a beautiful jumble of tools, produce, oil jugs, recycling, wool, string and newspaper. ¬†And her little feet! ¬†We also got to meet one of her sons, pictured above.

As beautiful as the tea towels that I bought from her are, for me, nothing will be as special as the memory of eating figs and having the chance to photograph Maria’s proud face in her hillside studio.

I have lived on an island. ¬†I have wrapped solitude with a blanket, and the winds? ¬†Some arrive grey with the damp rumor of trees. ¬†Others sigh, thick with dust that isn’t from here. ¬†They rattle me. ¬†They have built cities within me where before, there was only a clanging sound, and its echo.