In Ersilia, to establish the relationships that sustain the city?s life, the inhabitants stretch strings from the corners of the houses, white or black or gray or black-and-white according to whether they mark a relationship of blood, of trade, authority, agency. When the strings become so numerous that you can no longer pass among them, the inhabitants leave: the houses are dismantled; only the strings and their supports remain. From a mountainside, camping with their house- hold goods, Ersilia?s refugees look at the labyrinth of taut strings and poles that rise in the plain. That is the city of Ersilia still, and they are nothing. They rebuild Ersilia elsewhere. They weave a simi- lar pattern of strings which they would like to be more complex and at the same time more regular than the other. |Then they abandon it and take them- selves and their houses still further away. Thus, when traveling in the territory of Ersilia, you come upon the ruins of the abandoned cities, without the walls which do not last, without the bones of the dead which the wind rolls away: spider- webs of intricate relationships seeking a form.
Hmmm... I think it sounds like paradise. No one is trapped in Ersilia. I can't recall hearing why buddha wept... I think he'd be glad of a place that dismantles its institutions. Great work.
I cannot translate this: Deka logiwn pallikaries. Oi ennia na drapeteveis.
Thank you for the hair lifting compination of image and Calvino's literature.
I am on my way to Giannena.
Please take thirty seconds of your time and brainstorm me to what I must do in your opinion the 5 days that I will be there! My personal e-mail in case you don't know it is: thalassopouli@hotmail.com
Kosti, I am impressed with the photo accompanied by the about "Invisible Cities", beautiful, very touching. You should not give long breaks to yourself anymore. Nope, you must not...
those strings appear to structure the man itself. and they all come from that world he supports desperately. lots of tension here, between the past and the future, between the feelings and the pain.