your friendly film person :)

The first time I decided to blog, I was 12. Using a random domain that I do not remember anymore, it was my little corner on the internet to be what I thought was one of the coolest people online at the time: a beauty and fashion blogger. That became really boring after a few months. I needed more than to just talk about clothes and perfumes, but that entire site was already heavily theme-specific so I dropped blogging altogether… until a few years later, I tried again. This time, lifestyle blogging. Thoughts on the world, suggest the occasional recipe. That site I hated so much I deleted about a month later. It felt “cringe”, wrong, not good enough. I never could find a “thing”, my thing.

Naturally that would lead me to try one last time: a blog dedicated to random thoughts and topics that stick with me that I just can’t seem to let go of. That was fun for a while, but as I grew up I would always find something wrong with all parts of the site. Don’t even get me started on the writing… but that never stopped me from writing by myself. In notebooks, on my phone, in books, I will make do with whatever is available. Something about putting pen to paper is therapeutic, I believe that even people who don’t tend to write much have felt that way at least once in their life. Maybe while writing a card to a friend, or organizing their thoughts on something they’re passionate about. Every time I don’t feel too good, writing gives me a way to heal.

As time passes, I’m feeling more confident in my writing and in my creative abilities – and I am becoming better at accepting that no matter how much I try, I will never look back on my work five years from now and think it’s perfect. This newfound acceptance marks a new beginning, but old habits definitely die hard. Maybe it is time to try this again. Something tells me this time will stick.

Creating this site was easy, posting for the first time was hard. Doubly hard, since I never tend to write in Greek (regardless of the fact that it is my first language). I showed the post to five different people before I got the nerve to publish it, and nerves – as they often do – tend to show on a piece of work. The people closest to me could tell it was more restrained, more essay-like. The more I thought about it, the worse anxiety I got about the whole thing. Eventually – after correcting all the grammatical mistakes I could find – I posted it. The first feeling I felt was panic, but a couple minutes later there was this sense of accomplishment. I did it, I posted it knowing it was the best I could do right now and that’s okay.

I want this site to be filled with colors and photos that mean something to me, that emit a feeling beyond being pretty or aesthetic. I want to write in whatever language feels right in that moment and own it proudly. This is my wish: that I will look on here by the end of 2024 and see a little book of memories and growth.