Chantal

it’s been almost a month since I left the lovely atlantis books. the day I returned to new york, it felt like I had awoken from a beautiful (long and incredibly lucid) dream that was already fading from my grasp, changed in a way that I couldn’t explain based on the experiences of my night’s sleep; and the further away I get from the month I stayed there, the more I remember it the way you remember a dream: in flashes and waves; triggered by things like the smell of honeysuckle, or the woman at the diner by my house speaking greek into the phone.

I have been trying to write this journal entry since I left, and wracking my brain on how I can capture the indescribable feeling-spirit-energy of the place with anything other than “go there.”

but all I have are flashes of my time there:

books read: 10 (although, I must admit that this includes “under the banner of heaven” which I didn’t finish, but I read the bulk of it. mormons is crazy.

days spent entirely at the till: 3
showers taken: 3
rounds of row, row, row your boat sung while rowing back from a botched fishing trip: I’m gonna go with 16.
trips to fira: 4
bars danced on in fira: 1 (i am a fool.)
nights under the full moon topped off by watching the sun rise over the backs of men laying concrete: 1
shoulders brushed off (ladies is pimps, too): 2
frogs-in-holes (which is my new favorite food to eat late at night or early in the morning or ever): 7
accostings by locals: 2
packets of tobacco purchased: 5 (and yet somehow, i still found myself bumming off of craig)
chess games played: 0
chess games watched: innumerable (i find this lame.)
days spent at the beautiful kolombos beach: 4
men seen masturbating on said beach: 1
beers drunk at edwins: I would have no idea how to begin to count this.
nights spent camping and music making with the ocean and some good friends: 3
nights spent dancing at santorini mou, I love you: 3
breakfasts and fags with beck at maria villard’s: 7