What I believe



Peaceful naked moments in Nas Ikaria

Photo by Danai_lama on Instagram by Danai_lama  (‘Danai_lama’)
taken in Ikaria, featuring in her Instagram

Poetry by J.G. Ballard

What I believe

I believe in the power of the imagination to remake the world, to release the truth within us, to hold back the night, to transcend death, to charm motorways, to ingratiate ourselves with birds, to enlist the confidences of madmen.

I believe in my own obsessions, in the beauty of the car crash, in the peace of the submerged forest, in the excitements of the deserted holiday beach, in the elegance of automobile graveyards, in the mystery of multi-storey car parks, in the poetry of abandoned hotels.

. . .

I believe in the death of tomorrow, in the exhaustion of time, in our search for a new time within the smiles . . .

. . .

I believe in madness, in the truth of the inexplicable, in the common sense of stones, in the lunacy of flowers, in the disease stored up for the human race by the Apollo astronauts.

I believe in nothing.

I believe in Max Ernst, Delvaux, Dali, Titian, Goya, Leonardo, Vermeer, Chirico, Magritte, Redon, Duerer, Tanguy, the Facteur Cheval, the Watts Towers, Boecklin, Francis Bacon, and all the invisible artists within the psychiatric institutions of the planet.

I believe in the impossibility of existence, in the humour of mountains, in the absurdity of electromagnetism, in the farce of geometry, in the cruelty of arithmetic, in the murderous intent of logic.

I believe in adolescent women, in their corruption by their own leg stances, in the purity of their dishevelled bodies, in the traces of their pudenda left in the bathrooms of shabby motels.

I believe in flight, in the beauty of the wing, and in the beauty of everything that has ever flown, in the stone thrown by a small child that carries with it the wisdom of statesmen and midwives.

I believe in the gentleness of the surgeon’s knife, in the limitless geometry of the cinema screen, in the hidden universe within supermarkets, in the loneliness of the sun, in the garrulousness of planets, in the repetitiveness or ourselves, in the inexistence of the universe and the boredom of the atom.

. . .

I believe in the non-existence of the past, in the death of the future, and the infinite possibilities of the present.

I believe in the derangement of the senses: in Rimbaud, William Burroughs, Huysmans, Genet, Celine, Swift, Defoe, Carroll, Coleridge, Kafka.

. . .

I believe in the next five minutes.

I believe in the history of my feet.

I believe in migraines, the boredom of afternoons, the fear of calendars, the treachery of clocks.

I believe in anxiety, psychosis and despair.

I believe in the perversions, in the infatuations with trees, princesses, prime ministers, derelict filling stations (more beautiful than the Taj Mahal), clouds and birds.

I believe in the death of the emotions and the triumph of the imagination.

. . .

I believe in anxiety, psychosis and despair.

I believe in the perversions, in the infatuations with trees, princesses, prime ministers, derelict filling stations (more beautiful than the Taj Mahal), clouds and birds.

I believe in the death of the emotions and the triumph of the imagination.

I believe all reasons.

I believe all hallucinations.

I believe all anger.

I believe all mythologies, memories, lies, fantasies, evasions.

I believe in the mystery and melancholy of a hand, in the kindness of trees, in the wisdom of light.

J.G. B.

The full poem without my arbitrary omissions can be found at https://i1.wp.com/static.mediapart.fr/sites/all/themes/mediapart/mediapart_v4/images/mediapart.png






Eleni’s blog in Ikaria: thoughts about photography

Hello readers! 💋

(1) I removed the ‘lighthouse’ from my ID. Not that I put out the lighthouse -it’s always there. I’m not allowed to delete it. It’s the candle on my grandmother’s grave.

sunset lighthouse 3

The ‘stats’ counted over 3000 visits in my blog. Though I know that by now there are about 27.ooo.ooo blogs on the net and I know that my 3.ooo visits are less than nothing, I gOT pAnICKEd.

(3) Among my many mediterranean handicaps is that I am superstitious, in a creative and ‘cultured’ way perhaps, but no less superstitious for that -perhaps even more. Do you know of that superstition according to which for every photograph you take ( or have others take) of youself a part of your soul is lost? The local professional photographers here in the island know about this. Their predecessors had to spend a long time talking with the ‘subjects’, showing them the camera (what’s inside, the buttons etc.) to persuade them that the process of taking a portrait wouldn’t deface them or deprive them of speech and things like that. I felt the same (oh, readers !) so I removed my face from the blog. Every time I opened the blog and saw my face and realized that hundreds of people had been looking at me, I felt ‘consumed’. (Models on giant wall posters must feel the same, but they get a hell of a lot of money for this -perhaps this is why they do get all that money after all)

(4) Instead of «me+lighthouse», you have «my hair dyed red + my 3/4 back + my right hip + my right arm + a part of my right boot» I particularly like the new colour of my hair. I find that this colour goes very much with the green and grey of the landscape of Ikaria.


Here I am on my knees on the wall of the cistern (water reservoir) of the old watermill, lost ⁉(‘lost’ ? for Ikaria this word looses its meaning) in a gorge. It’s the same site with the waterfall (see my Flickr) and the snowdrops/galanthi flowers (see my Flickr).

(6) Nana 😘 who took this photo, is a great photographer -not consious, but natural born. It was not her, but I 😉 who blurred her photo afterwards on the computer.

(7) I blurred the photo, 1st) because of *3*, 2nd) because I don’t want this particular photo to be stolen 😠 . By ‘stolen’ I only mean one thing: I don’t want this photo (or others where I appear in front of or inside an Ikarian landscape) to be stolen and appear in one of those tourist-oid promoter-oid 🤪 websites which are supposed to advertise the assets of the island («oh, how nice, how old, how green, lotsa pretty redhaired hikers in it too»).

(8) ON the CONTRARY (now this is quite official), I’d pose full face, full body (even naked in a pool or a waterfall in a canyon) for a cause (in this I still feel in me live the impossible, unbearable ‘eco-freak’ I was once upon a time). I’d break a strict law (of mine) and I’d become a 😇 ‘muse’. If only I knew it would help and that there would be people who really did something good for the environment (natural+social) of this extraordinary place. And that such photos would inspire others to go the same way. I can act stupid, but I’m not naive and I know that this is not likely to happen. There are too many crazy 😬 earthmovers around here. Unless the price of oil reaches the price of gold, they will be in business trying to flatten the island and make it look like an Athenian backwater suberb (‘quelle horrible illusion’).

big nail dig ikaria

(9) However, the future is 🤔 unknown. If ever on a website or the paper press you see a photo of me naked 😛 in a waterfall, you ‘d know that my island is going the right way (‘right’, according to me of course).

(10) I’m afraid that many years will pass for this to happen (if ever), so I guess will be very very old 😫 by then. So let me be more accurate and state the above *9* in a different way . If ever on a website or paper press you see a photo of a bag of wrinkled skin and brown bones, you would know 😉, 1st) that it is me, and 2nd) that my island is going the right way.


A crack in reality

41 Αυγούστου στο νησί by zwrzin on instagramuntitled by stellaatsoglou on instagramΑαααααααααχ και βαχ... by nad_mits on instagramMy cousin and dhalli marie hanging out in a old mill water lost in a greek island ikaria, by valerycarnoy on instagram

kisses to everybody 😚 😚 😚


A soap&cartoon&docu
writer has met an artist
(& possible friend?..)
~~~ biou, biou.. «the bomber» is scared


~ φιλακια *** και σε ολα τα Ελληνοπουλα και τις Ελληνοπουλες που δεν το βαζουν κατω ~

κουραγιο βρε… μονο τα πρωτα 100 χρονια ειναι δυσκολα  ~ σε 2 μηνες εγω κλεινω το πρωτο 1/3 απο αυτο το χρονικο διαστημα ~ ηταν το πιο δυσκολο ~




(4 total)

Why certain women are so good at starting wars?

Tuesday March 14, 2006 - 10:35pm (EET)

I do consider myself a ’cause’ (some might say a lost one) and I do accept gratuitous donations…I would also be obliged to REALLY DO SOMETHING GOOD FOR THE ENVIRONMENT!!!!!

Tuesday March 14, 2006 - 02:35pm (PST)

You’re right AKK, I read it in school books… since long time greek women called «Eleni» are the best at starting wars.

Wednesday March 15, 2006 - 12:33am (CET)

-> (to the above commentators)-> because men are stupid, that’s why->->-> to win a war is nothing ! we also want flowers, chocolates, songs, jokes, etc. etc. … There was only one Penelope and that was Penelope Cruz !
-> Elenitsa, you’ve ruined the photo ! ok …I understand the reason (& I have a copy). About the other thing (the enviro campaign), the USDA are brainstorming: «bulldozers vs eco-babes», how & who wins? tough tough tough==> We may be like 2 dried old figues until the PhDs come to a conclusion.

Wednesday March 15, 2006 - 10:44pm (EET)



For memories sake, the 4 wild photos
I deleted from Flickr:


illustrated «Ikarian Enigma» -το αίνιγμα της Ικαρίας


Ikarian enigma: The pupils say we should love the water habitats

The Ikarian enigma is subtle. It’s layers.
For example look at the picture above:
1st layer: the river (on the right side -can’t be seen), the plane trees and the straw canes.
2nd layer: a pile of earth, (called ‘mbaza’ in Greek) moved there by an earth mover that cleaned the bed of the river so the river did not flood.
3rd layer: someone thought that this pile of earth was the proper place to get rid of his obsolete Nissan. He hoped that when the earth mover returned, it would take the car too. (Where to?)
4th layer: (years have passed) seeing that the earth mover wasn’t coming, a climbing plant like ivy worked together with a wildberry bush and they covered the pile of earth and the Nissan with their foliage.
5th layer: straw canes seeing that the place was safe, grew there too.
6th layer: someone who has animals, seeing that the place is cool and there is shadow and green leaves in the summer, as well as that there is a road and he can visit it easily by car, he brought and tied his animals (goats? cows? sheep? ostriches?) there. Therefore we have two pots (made of old plastic motor oil containers) in the foreground. There he’d put corn (?) and water.
7th layer: the 4th grade of the primary school visited this place on an educational trip to observe water habitats, report about conditions and also «campaign» about them. They left a sign: «Love the Water Habitats»!
8th layer: the mud in the foreground -obviously the river (the 1st layer) goes on flooding and claims its rights on top of 7 layers.
9th layer: that’s ME who went there and decided to take this picture.
10th layer: YOU …who are reading this blog entry! …you too …are a part of the riddle!!!

. .

the riddler

. .

Solving the Ikarian enigma at the pool of riddles

. .

😘 😘 😘
. .


(4 total)

This enigma is not peculiar to Ikaria Elle, this struggle is being played out across the world, here all over North America and elsewhere. We fight about it daily. Somebody must speak for the «Water Habitats.» I’m happy you’re shining a light and by the way you look adorable at the pool of riddles

Tuesday February 28, 2006 – 06:06am (PST)

I agree. It is a universal enigma or bet. Ikaria is a good example because it’s a straightforward place.
(Hey, it seems that you lost a «layer» in the process of producing this. Where’s «the stupid side of you»? This looks like the other side.)

Tuesday February 28, 2006 – 10:31pm (EET)

You are a Taurus= a time bomb!.. tik tik tik …boom …ALL LIGHT!!!
(I’d write something more clever, but I’m at work … and you know…) You go on with the enigma, don’t you?

Wednesday March 1, 2006 – 11:42am (EET)

I forgot to say that I liked very much that the kids wrote «Love the…» instead of «Protect/Respect the…»
Love is the big riddle that solves all other riddles.

My shadow on rubble in Armenistis, Ikaria, Greece

(τι έγραψα πάλι; ποιά είμαι τέλος πάντων; ας πάω καλύτερα τώρα να γράψω κανένα τιμολόγιο…)

Wednesday March 1, 2006 – 11:49am (EET)