About

A little story: In May 2010, I had to - somewhat suddenly - leave the house I lived in Brooklyn and return to Athens. A bit because it was abrupt, a bit because it was the house where I stayed alone for the first time, I was seized with anxiety, thinking that I hadn't talked to people as much as I wanted and no one would ever know that I had been here. So in the last few days before I left, I decided to find a way to talk to someone in my neighborhood, someone I saw every day, even if I was shy, even if I still felt like a "stranger," and even though I hadn't done it for the past 3 years.

How would I talk? And with whom of all? I remembered a neighbor of mine, who on days with good weather, would come out on his balcony and play loud music, which could be heard in the neighborhood and kept me company. Every day at the same time. "That's a good excuse," I thought. I burned a CD (Mos Dub), rehearsed what I would say, and went. I didn't find him in the morning, but I was determined and tried again that same afternoon: "I have been living here across the street for the last three years, tomorrow I leave, I am going back to Greece.