Purple Bike Rides, Groningen 2020 (Lomo Purple 400)

Locations: Biking around Hoornseplas, Stadspark, Groningen, the Netherlands. May 2020.

Nikon F75 (28-100mm). LomoChrome Purple, 100-400, 35mm film.


De Onlanden, Groningen 2020 (Ektar 100)

Locations: De Onlanden, Groningen, the Netherlands, May 2020.

Minolta Dynax 7000i (AF 35-105mm). Kodak Ektar, 100 ISO, 35mm film.

The Marvellous Colors of Kodak Ektar 100

Locations:  Schöhsee (Plön), Görnitz (Grebin), Schleswig-Holstein, Germany, June 2019 –  Tsagarada, Pelion, August 2019 – Kipos village, Kozani, Greece, July 2019.

Minolta Dynax 7000i (AF 35-105mm). Kodak Ektar, 100 ISO, 35mm film.

The accidents, Leeuwarden 2014

This was the first film I ever used with an old Pentax I found in a secondhand shop. I would go on using that camera for at least 2 years. I am not sure what happened with this film, but my guess is that it wasn’t inserted properly in the beginning, resulting in some beautiful “accidents”. I was very disappointed with my first film photography attempt, however, later on, I came to love these photographs. They are truly unique and very poetic.

Locations: Vrijheidswijk and Saint Boniface church in Leeuwarden. The Netherlands, 2014.

Pentax P30, 35mm with Pentax-A 50mm F/2 SMC Lens. Kodak Gold film 200.


Paper Flowers

I walked past our street today and saw flowers blossoming on the walls of the building. Bright pink and blue colored flowers were there, like the ones you used to hang above our fireplace every spring morning. You would wake up overwhelmed and struggle to reach your armchair. But, you would ultimately sit down and then open your drawer, determined to get out the paper for the flowers. You would do that straight out of bed, even without drinking coffee. Later on, while holding a hot cup of coffee in your hands, you would admire your own dedication to your little ritual. ‘I am never patient enough to finish anything’ you would say. And I would agree, but I would also kindly remind you of the things you actually accomplish through the day. After getting the hard paper for the flowers, you would take the patterns of a lily and a chrysanthemum and you would carefully and meticulously create something beautiful with it. The flowers were dashing. So simple and so pretty.

The first time you made flowers, right after you came back from the hospital, you thought it was a silly, childish thing. But when you saw how much it helped you, you stopped degrading it. I loved it instantly. Seeing you having something that sparked joy in your yellowed eyes, was all I needed to start believing again. Believe that you would make it. After all those hospital visits and the masks on your face. The looks of pity you were receiving when you lost your hair, and that moment when the doctors said it will not be easy. You were strong and fierce for months, but after the last chemo, you almost gave up. Your eyesight was very damaged and you struggled even with the simple daily things. After a while, you became so tired that you couldn’t even move your hands. You wanted so badly to touch those bouquets next to your bedside table. The texture of flowers soothed you, you used to whisper at night. But that wasn’t enough, you wanted to really look at those flowers. That is when I started asking people to bring you vibrant colored ones. In that way you might enjoy them better, I thought. Later you told me how much it meant to you, to see those beautiful faded colors next to you. It was your everything when you felt you had nothing.

And now, here I am, looking at the real flowers bursting through our wall. It’s so weird. You always created paper flowers to remind you of those difficult times, and the same day you pass away, I see colorful flowers popping on the wall of our building. You would have loved that. You would have laughed so loud with this ironic beauty, the whole neighborhood would have come out to see what’s wrong. You would then smile at them, tell them it’s all good and we would slowly go back inside to finish our tea.

Photo: Kipos, Kozani, Greece. October 2018. Minolta Dynax 7000i, Earl Grey Lomography Film 100, 35mm film.


That point between the shoulder blades

That point between the shoulder blades is
where pain sits and multiplies,
like millions of mosquito bites
it itches. Day in, day out.
You can’t lay down or sleep on your back.
You always have to keep your head down,
looking at the floor,
at the ground where
you took your first steps.
The point between your shoulder blades feels cold,
like icebergs have been formed there,
since the beginning of time,
without you knowing it.
But deep down you knew, all along
about the pain between those shoulder blades.
Now it’s part of you, you can’t imagine your life
without the pain.
Those icebergs never melt,
those mosquito bites never heal,
you need to keep your head down to the ground
and count the blessings in your heart.
And then the pain will transform
and the ice will start melting
while a hand is warming that spot
between your shoulder blades.

{Inspired by M. Oliver’s “When Death Comes” and that chronic pain between my shoulders.}

Photo: Leeuwarden, Friesland, June 2015. Minolta Dynax 7000i, Kodak Film 200, 35mm film.

The Ones From {2013}

[One for you and one for me]

Εγώ είμαι η γραμμή

της Αρχής

και του Τέλους.

Ποιητική μορφή

ζητά το κενό.

Η ανάσα σου στεγνή,

όπως τα φύλλα

στις αρχές του χειμώνα.

Χάνοντας και βρίσκοντας

την έμπνευση.

Τα παραμύθια

είναι αντανακλάσεις της ζωής

που δεν μπορείς να έχεις.

Τι και αν εγώ σταμάτησα,

η Γη ακόμη γυρίζει.

Αγάπα με

και ας σβήσουν όλα τα αστέρια.

Η ησυχία είναι γαλήνη,

είναι συνείδηση.



των ματιών σου.

Ξέχασες τα γυαλιά σου στο τραπέζι,

έχουν σπάσει από τη σιωπή.

Η ησυχία



Ξανά στην κατηφόρα,

αυτή τη φορά πιο


Όταν ο ουρανός είναι γαλάζιος,

δεν φοβάμαι τίποτα.

Μίλησέ μου για εκείνα

που δεν θα δω


Και όμως

η ζωή

είναι άγουρη.


Particles of memories

that just begin

to unravel.

A feeling

of sorrowful



(Photo: Leeuwarden sunset, 2013, The Netherlands. Canon EOS 1000D, 35-80mm, Lightroom with VscoCam. Sunset series. )


Η αντανάκλασή μου
θύμισε την άπνοια της ζωής.
Ερωτευμένοι φίλοι
με τις θαμπές λέξεις.
Ερωτευμένοι οι τοίχοι
με τη σιωπή.
Κοιτώ τα δάχτυλα των ποδιών μου
και αναπνέω,
ζωή και θάνατο
μαζί με χώμα
φτιάχνουν τον πόνο μας.
Οι άνθρωποι φεύγουν
πίσω από τις πόρτες κλαίνε
και αφήνουν τις λέξεις
να κρέμονται
σα ξεχασμένα γιορτινά στολίδια
να θυμίζουν την επαφή
και την αγάπη.


(Photo: Turin 2016, Canon EOS 1000D, Edited with Lightroom.)

Coffee, roses and other things

Creative Photographic Session, Leeuwarden 2014

Canon EOS 1000D, edited with VscoCam