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Drakonians are the people from my village Drakona, a tiny Cretan village. This is the village I spent my childhood, surrounded by talented storytellers, kind and hard working people.
Throughout the years stories have turned into myths and myths into stories. I left when I was 15 to attend a better high school in Chania, one of the main cities in Crete. Every return was filled with nostalgia and confusion. What I knew as normal was no longer normal. Most of the Drakonians that were part of my childhood were dead; a whole generation of story keepers. By taking photos I could deal with the realisation that time is brutal, stealing our youth, taking away our beloved ones, and confusing us. One year I decided to scan as many family archives as I could. The Drakonians were generous and gave me their family photos. I could see another layer of time now. Less brutal. People I only met as grannies and grandads were once young and promising. Kids. Laughter. Weddings. Gatherings. So much joy. I decided to mix these family archives with my photos as a way to celebrate life. It’s such a tiny village full of characters. It always was. And even though most Drakonians are dead, some are still alive. |
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