...shortly after leaving Lefteris' bookshop we walked home to our Ippokampos appartment, top floor. Outside on the communal balcony sat a man and we began to talk, easily, freely, he had an inclusive, generous and open manner and I listened to his stories of his youth, his artist mother (I met her next day), his friendship with Leonard's household including young Axel, the son of "Marianne". It was a wonderfully interesting conversation for me and he showed me many old photos of his time on Hydra back then in the 60's. I also met his vivacious mother, a friend of Leonard.
When I arrived home I was looking up (surfing the net) some of the names I heard in that wonderful conversation and I stumbled on this lovely photo of "axel's mum"; I thought you might like to view it also.
http://images.google.com/hosted/life/l? ... 05ad932b73
By co-incidence, we dined in a lovely outdoor restaurant that had a beautiful old tree. I sat under it to take in the atmosphere and I was sitting just in front of the guy smiling (but about 50 years later).
Here is another of those shots; do you see the guy smiling?
http://images.google.com/hosted/life/l? ... 03b3ef81c8
Life is good to me sometimes. But how do I put all this into a poem?
...does it matter if I can't.
(By the way, the tall Nordic on the left is my friendly neighbour's father. I could tell by simply looking at him.
These were the days when these young artists just hung out and worked on their art. "Leonard was the only one who really made it" (in the sense of being famous).
But so what. They all had a go and, so it looks to me, had a lot of fun in the process and (those I met) still are.
MatbbgJ
"Without light or guide, save that which burned in my heart." San Juan de la Cruz.