This time, however, I escaped the Athens city centre, the chaos, the perpetual mobility of the crowd; this time, I turned my eyes to the edges of the city, where the spectacular and eye-catching frame tend to fade and disappear into the hazy and disordered flora. I run off the main highway and followed much more peripheral roads –an uncharted road network, stretched like a web in the Attica basin, which indiscreetly unites underpopulated areas, industrial zones and slums. These are the narrow and insignificant roads we take, when we’ve lost our way; these are the in-between areas which constitute the passageway from the city to the countryside.
Purposefully, I didn’t overlook these “insignificant” roads; I stood and watched them, focused my attention on them, walked them and finally shot them, trying to captivate in a photographic instant what happens in the places where seemingly nothing happens. The attractiveness lies in that one always finds there something different than expected; there one can either meet a place of game or a place of well-hidden human traces of outlaw activities.
All in all, my nocturnal wanderings in these places -so close to Athens, but still so distant–revive the question of what is beautiful and what is ugly, what is significant and what is trivial –but most importantly where the heart of the city beats hard and unceasingly.