Athens is a city which doesn’t strike you with the most daring architecture or the most captivating topography. It is a place of small surprises, little benches hidden under the shady canopy of a Platani tree, serving as backdrops for imaginary tales of passing time. Where age and youth alike have their home, moving around each other in the eternal dance of life. One slow and contemplative, the other fast and unyielding, thirsting for it all.
It is here, where immortality dwells. Where the horizon of death, the eclipse of our imagination, meets the rising sun of life. In these places with their silent invitation to remain – for as long as our busy minds allow their offering.
I found these two gentlemen on an antique market in the city center – selling objects discarded by some, yet resting against the future dreams of others.
Reminding me that nothing loses value in this world, only our time-bound perception of the people, places, and things in it. Ultimately reflecting who we are and who we want to be.