CHAPTER 1
Saving the Dream
Barefoot and giggling, a boy with masses of dark curly hair and a girl with long braids rush by me on their way to the sea. Wearing shorts and I LOVE POROS T-shirts, they carry an orange plastic bucket between them. Each wields a long bamboo pole. My mind considers the words “paint like a child” as I take a seat at the outdoor taverna. Hoisting my art bag up on the table, I remove my small sketchpad and a sepia pen.
I’ve painted at so many different locations today that I’ve lost count. Spotting an attractive couple seated several tables from me I suddenly become conscious of my appearance. I have paint speckles on the front of my blouse from flicks of my brush, my denim jacket sleeves are sloppily tied around my shoulders, and I can feel my hair breaking free from the clip I’d shoved into it at some point. I must look a mess and I have no idea what time it is—but none of that really matters—I’m splattered with the joy of painting! The couple is watching the children now standing at attention on the wooden dock and holding their fishing poles firmly at 45-degree angles. Three multi-colored cats sit a few meters away from them, licking their paws and eyeing the corks bobbing seductively on the sea-top. The visual scene before my eyes is too iconic to pass up.
Working on a quick sketch, I’m concentrating on the negative space between the two children when I sense a body standing close behind me. Instinctively I turn to see the waiter peering over my shoulder. “Polli orea (very nice),” he remarks cheerfully.
I wish he hadn’t said anything about my drawing at this point. It’s not the right time for an evaluation, even my own, yet I’m sure he thinks it’s the polite thing to say. I’ve learned to breathe away my slight irritation and respond quickly to such off-hand compliments, or sometimes negative opinions.
Smiling at him, I stop drawing and close my sketch book, mumbling a simple thank you—“evharisto”—before I order “pikilia spitiki, parakalo (the house special, please).” That’s the quickest dish to order in Greece when you’re in a hurry or hungry, and I’m both.
As the waiter leaves, I see the young woman looking in my direction. We exchange pleasant smiles and she calls over, “Excuse me, but aren’t you Pamela Rogers? I’m Effie and this is my husband John.” John nods a hello. “We met you and bought a painting at your exhibit here quite a few years ago. It was Poros Island, Bird’s-Eye View.”
Yes, I can easily remember that particular painting. It was the first of a series that I painted from a variety of perches on the high crown of the island. Memories return in a flashflood of visuals: My first solo exhibit in Greece; the first time I saw a pram built for twins; the Hadzipoulios family home donated and renovated as the new Poros Library; the steps curving up to the Roloi; the clock tower…Oh those images left from the zany clock tower episode! They’re taking wing like crazy bats in my brain, but I shoo them back in their cave to hang quietly for now. Too much of my life has been spent wishing such-and-such hadn’t happened or pondering the future instead of paying attention to what’s happening right here and now. It has taken diligence and concentration for me to grasp the supreme joy of living in the moment, and I want to hang on to it whenever I can.
“Oh, yes, of course I remember you from that day—five or six years ago?” I think out loud. As Effie nods in agreement I look toward the children and ask, “And those must be your twins?”
Greekscapes Illustrated Journeys with an Artist Description:
After balancing on the tightrope of acceptability with success until my father’s death, I married the ‘wrong man’ and spent years trying in vain to have a child with him. My depressed state of mind was in danger of taking its toll until my abstract paintings implored me to delve inside for answers. What I found in the shadows of my past wasn’t always pleasant, yet my persistence in finding my truth led me to a brilliant painting mentor and then, by a twist of fate, to Greece.
“What can I paint here?” I asked myself. I soon found that answer, and a bizarre epiphany in the olive groves gave me the knowledge and humor needed to change my life. But to divorce after 19 years and leave everything I knew to move to another country and face possible failure? Was I provoking the Fates to think that I, a middle-aged woman, on her own with minimal resources, could actually realize my goals? I wrote, painted, and meditated – and only two words arrived to accompany me on my journey to try, or perish in the attempt!
After forgiving myself and others for mistakes made, I plunged alone into the seas of the new. In my memoir Greekscapes, I share (sometimes uncomfortably) my odyssey with the help of my poems and paintings, the synchronicities and the remarkable people who (sometimes unwittingly), and the incredible country, that all helped me brave the storms and arrive safely at my destination, ready to embrace my new life. Twenty six years later, I’m floating through a life that, most incredibly, surpasses even my most positive dreams. Yeia Mas to all!
