The horizon changing throughout the day in Skopelos.

Christo's Family Church


Submerged below the surface, the Aegean becomes a gently rocking cradle. In this thick water all sound seems dulled, all but one oddly sharp sound; the scraping of the pebbles and fine granules against one another with the passing of each wave.


sound is primal

it has a vibratory power that evokes a response at the most basic sensory level.

through some unknown dynamism, sound and music can unlock a part of our psyche that is otherwise ignored. It is a trigger for creative action.


In South Florida, the land is so close to sea level that the land meets the water at the same elevation. The crashing waves constantly echo a threat to the land: one day you will be with us, one day you will become a new ocean floor. However, in Skopelos, the land is strong; inclines and declines, which sit in sharp contrast to the flat ocean, are all that can be seen.


Incense, The aroma takes me back, way back in fact to better days getting into trouble at my yia-yai's house. just smelling it as i walk past the numerous churches on the island reminds me of those days.


Back home we live in a place in which the only animals around are the ones we allow to be in our presence. Our kennels and pooper scoopers prevent us from being exposed to anything unpleasant. Its refreshing to be reminded that we are not the only creatures on the planet here in Skopelos.




I had never before realized the importance of eating produce seasonally until our arrival in Skopelos.
The ability to go pick a ripe fig right off the tree will make it difficult to ever feel the same about food back home.


Baramare's. June 29. 7:20-11pm.


In order to make a painting that is truly representative of the tastes of nature, cherries were picked from surrounding trees and bitten into so their vibrant fluids could spill onto the page, making the red marks. The image was completed as the ants took part in the feast, making the page resemble a thousand year old dionystic celebration.


Sense of Sight

The sun rising over Skopelos is a sight to behold :)

Sense of Touch

Sundial?--Sculpture--Feeling the sun--Passage of time--Touching rocks, sand, grass


The air on the walk up to Sendoukia (Σεντούκια) was so pungently full of herbs that I could taste the lamb my Yiayia cooks.  Bob tells us that the goats on the island are naturally seasoned before cooking, due to the vast amounts of herbs they consume on a daily basis.  

Getting Ready


Touch - Unknown Rocks

Smooth, ocean tossed rocks blanket the beaches around Skopelos, causing pain to feet and impressions on skin. However the rocks warm in the sun until they become blistering hot during the mid-day. When laying on the rocks after swimming, one has the heated sensation of them through a towel. Though they are smooth to the touch, the rocks create an awkward gait from people when walking on the beach and leave lasting images on the body from laying on them. The above image shows the memory of the rocks pushed into the skin following an afternoon on the beach, and the culprits of the impressions.


Herbs are found growing wild all over the island in incredible amounts so that their scent makes the air smell sweet.

One of my favorite and first memories on the island was the night of our welcoming banquet, when Zoey kept pulling the leaves off of the Basil plant and bringing them around for everyone to smell.

(Top: Basil, Bottom: Sage from the Sendoukia burial sight)


Butchering a Chicken


Sounds of Skopelos Streets

The sounds on Skopelos are richer than those encountered in every day life at home. The narrow streets create echoes and the large port reverberates sound throughout Skopelos Town and the surrounding areas. The resounding echoes carry everywhere, down each small street, into the cafes, where they mix with other sounds: TV shows heard through open windows, dogs barking, roaring motorcycles, kids playing games. The slow oppressive movement of the day interrupted by bright sparks of sound creep into even the highest reaches of the mountains around the port. Even in the silence, the sounds of cicadas and the movement of pedestrians though the street creates a backdrop of sound that is ever present here.



The island of Skopelos is rich with sound: noisy, humming, chattering, beating, whispering, thumping, churning, howling and singing. While traveling through the streets of Skopelos the explorer hears the steady beat of his own sandals against the stone steps while motorcycles thunder and growl through passageways, dogs take chase and bark after one another and a child's high spirited laughter echoes off of the adjoining apartments and houses that flank the narrow walkways. Meanwhile there is the slow yet constant pulsation of waves permeating the sandy shoreline backed by the droning of cicadas in the surrounding hills.


Print Marathon- 660 prints!


As a graphic designer, I notice text and letterform. The mere alteration of a font changes the shape a letter takes, which can influence its meaning and make one feel differently about the words she is reading.  

Comic Sans is a design faux pas. I can guarantee that you have all seen this casual, non-connecting script typeface adorning Beanie Baby tags, children's coloring books, and other personally-published signs/documents. Comic Sans is bad-- poorly-designed and over-used. Upon venturing into downtown Skopelos, I discovered that the Greeks have adapted Comic Sans to fit their alphabet. The world is now complete with Comic Sans lambdas and sigmas.


Futurist Manifesto, the Art of Noises. 
You don't have to read it all, but do take a glance.  In this substantially thick piece of reading, the Futurists break everything down into a science, embracing technology and change.  I found it interesting that they were able to seemingly inventory the fundamental noises.  How could they claim to do such a thing?  Noise is indefinite...

I found this line particularly interesting: Not only in the roaring atmosphere of major cities, but in the country too, which until yesterday was totally silent, the machine today has created such a variety and rivalry of noises that pure sound, in its exiguity and monotony, no longer arouses any feeling.  The drone of the machine has created a constant, perpetual noise in our world.  Right now in Skopelos, as I am seemingly sitting in silence, I can hear the drone of my computer fan, the whizzing of the motorcycles tearing through the small cobblestone streets, and the rolling lull of the salty waves crashing upon the shore of the Aegean Sea.  Noise is inescapable.  

There may not be such a thing as silence. If there is, it is not something I have ever experienced.  Even in the womb, one is surrounded by the palpitating and beating sound of the mother's body.  Perhaps silence can be found in the distant rural areas of wilderness.  Even so, one cannot dismiss the sound of the blowing wind and rustling grass.

A lot of people dismiss any differences between music, noise, and sound.  I think these can be differentiated by the organization of the elements.  Also, the intention.  Sound, existing as vibrations that travel through the air, is always present.  Noise is sound created by people, animals (i.e. the goats near Christo's house, with which I bleat-talk), or things, either intentionally or not.  Music is the compilation of noises.  Check out the pictures of us jamming out to music while sleeping on the ferry ride from Athens to Skopelos OR the pictures of us Greek dancing to the Greek music at the opening banquet (below).