Tag: Greece

Akrotiri Ceramic Vessels

When the wind and rain kicked up on Santorini, my dad an I chose to hide inside the Archeological Museum. We were lucky to see more Akrotiri wall paintings along with ceramics and other painted artifacts. It’s amazing they are 3,600 years old. Most vessels have extraordinary design, rhythm, color, and look as though they could’ve been created today. Although, these were functional vessels back then, today they are beautiful works of art.

This painting is a collection of vessels that were located throughout the museum. Some museums in Greece wont let you draw or take pictures in them. The Archeological Museum on Santorini didn’t seem to care.

Map of Santorini

Santorini has a very unusual shape when seen from above and that’s because the island is actually a volcano.  In 1,600 BC, the volcano erupted and then collapsed, taking most of the island with it, leaving behind the current five islands. The ancient city of Akrotiri was also lost. Many people speculate that this island is where the lost civilization of atlantis was located. Regardless of whether it was or not, this is a beautiful place to visit. Boat tours can also be taken out to the center island to see its smokey center. This map shows the different places we visited as we drove around the island in our tiny car.

Santorini Sunset

Walking along a courtyard located on the ridge of the caldera in Fira, I find several brightly colored, free-standing doors that have a surreal presence. At first glance, they look like gateways opening up to the sea far below. Each door is uniquely designed and painted. I enter through one and see steps descending to a terraced restaurant below. A menu listing mouth-watering entrees catches my eye, but the prices make me step back.

After Finding a place to sit on the edge of the caldera overlooking the sea, I watch the setting sun display deep oranges, reds, violets—a rainbow of color. Surprisingly, few people are here to take in this magnificent sight. Not far behind me, a jazz saxophonist sets up and begins playing old standards in a slow tempo, perfectly fitting my mood.

I wonder at the improbability of my presence here. It’s the one place I’ve always wanted to be. This moment, as fleeting as it is, is real. As real as the sea breeze. But somehow it feels more like a memory, rather than an event happening now. It’s similar to the feeling I experience looking through some of my old paintings. They are a window to my past, a record of what I saw, what I felt, and who I was at that time. Someday, I’ll rediscover the paintings I’ve created here in Greece buried in my studio, relics of my own life long past.

Blustery Santorini

I awake early and hop out of bed, motivated by my excitement of being on Santorini. I look out the window in hopes of seeing the rest of the island, but it’s difficult to see past the pension next door. Wishing for higher ground, I remember a metal ladder bolted to the side of the building right outside our door. With little hesitation, and no signs telling me not to, I climb up on the roof. It’s windy-really windy-with the smell of rain in the air. But the view is much clearer up here. The island stretches out before me to the east, tapering down to meet the sea off in the distance. I see a woman on the roof next door hanging laundry. The wind pulls one sheet off the clothesline and nearly off the roof. She hurries over to retrieve it, smiles at me, and returns to her work.

The Sunlight on Santorini

On Santorini my focus was to capture the island’s unique quality of light. By focusing on the shapes of shadows, I made use of the white of the page and defined the composition with washes of color. If I had used black lines to describe the buildings, I would have lost the uniqueness of Santorini.

Fira, Santorini

Seeing Fira from the top of the caldera, and looking down at the Aegean far below, is an even more powerful experience than was looking up at it from the ferry. Most of the small city streets are free of cars and barely wide enough to handle two-way pedestrian traffic. My favorite street, which is narrow enough to be called a path, traces along the edge of the caldera for several kilometers. Homes, restaurants, and hotels line this street, and all have extraordinary views. Fira’s white buildings, brightly painted doors, and overflowing baskets of flowers make this a unique spot.

Donkey Caravan, Santorini

(Excerpt from my book, The Artist on the Road: Impressions of Greece)

After many hours at sea, with two quick stops along the way, my excitement builds as Santorini comes into view. Passengers with cameras gather in anticipation on the port side of the ferry. We also ready our cameras and find a good spot along the railing. At first, Santorini looks like many other shallow islands we’ve seen pushing up from the sea. But when we get closer, I see a mountain looming large on the far side. Where the land meets the sea, sharp cliffs rise up a thousand feet into the blue sky. This is the caldera, where the central part of the volcano broke off and collapsed into the Aegean. Striations of colored rock, stone, sediment, and lava make the island a lopsided layer cake. As we ferry closer, the white city of Oia covers the top like frosting. The city contains no storied buildings and gathers close to the earth to avoid slipping off the caldera.

As we sail into the center of the five volcanic islands that make up Santorini, the top of the caldera rises above us. Quarter-moon shaped Thera is the largest of the islands. The city of Fira comes into view and I’m amazed that it’s so high up. The famous switchback trail, which takes travelers by donkey to and from the port below, is visible snaking along the cliff.

I’m glad we’ve finally arrived. I feel as though I’ve been out at sea a week. The ferry spins around, as it did in Naxos, and backs into to the port. We dock at Athinios and stand on the aft deck watching the gangway lower. During the boat ride, we scoured our travel guides for lodging and chose four possibilities. Pension Petros is the most promising, but we’ll be satisfied just to have a roof over our heads tonight. We certainly don’t want a repeat of our problems upon our arrival in Athens.

Our guidebooks say it’s possible to take the donkey caravan up the switchbacks to the top, but we don’t think much of that idea. Many proprietors are at the dock holding up handwritten signs for their hotels and pensions. We look for anything referencing Pension Petros, and finally see a middle-aged man holding up a sign for the place. He is, in fact, Mr. Petros himself. We get into his van, and he drives us up the switchbacks along the side of the caldera to Fira and Pension Petros. Along the way, I notice how Santorini, with its white buildings and blue-domed churches, differs from Attica.