The Artist on the Road

Walking to the top of the Acropolis, I notice only a quarter of the people that were here the first time. I’m not sure what has changed in the last week but it’s a welcome sight. I pass the Odeon theater, which was built in 161 AD by Herodes Atticus as an indoor auditorium but over time has lost its wooden roof and is now used as an outdoor theater. More recently, the musicians Yanni and Sting, and the Greek singer Nana Mouskouri have all held concerts in it. Now, where to sit? I could spend at least a week up here drawing and painting. Let me check my trail mix supply.

Once I reach to top of the Acropolis, I find a good place to sit and start drawing the Erechtheion, focusing on the Porch of the Karyatids. I see five beautiful stone ladies who will keep me company while I paint. Halfway through my first painting, a Greek woman walks over and waves her arms upon seeing my drawing. I don’t understand her Greek, but her reaction is telling. Then she reaches into her bag and pulls out an apple, hands it to me. I’ve never had anyone express their appreciation of my work so thoughtfully.

I change locations and begin another drawing. This time the entire Erechtheion is my focus, with the Porch of the Karyatids to one side. A teenage girl comes near and sits beside me watching me draw. She’s completely silent. After a half hour, she looks at me, smiles and thanks me, then slips away.

After a full day of painting on the Acropolis, I head back to Hotel Adams. Along the way, I see the wine shop I noticed when we first arrived in Greece. Since my dad and I will be going to Irene’s for dinner tonight, we would like to bring a hostess gift for her. This will provide an excellent opportunity to become more familiar with Greek wine. I enter the shop and see an abundance of wine bottles in wooden racks lining the walls. In the far corner, a girl of eight or nine sits on a stack of wine boxes and says hello to me as I enter. Seeing no one else in the shop, I tell her that I’m looking for a bottle of Greek white wine. She says, “Just a minute,” and runs across the street calling up to her mother through an open window on the second floor. Moments later, a woman enters the shop with a smile and asks, “Are you looking for something in particular?” I tell her that I’m looking for a bottle of white wine for a dinner party but that I’m unfamiliar with Greek wines. She pulls out a bottle of Chardonnay from a rack. I ask her if the wine is strongly oaked with a smooth buttery character, which I find typical of Californian Chardonnay. She smiles and replies, “Yes.” I tell her that I’m more interested  in an earthier wine with less oak and a bit more of a kick to it, like a Sauvignon Blanc. She recommends two bottles, and I choose the one that was stainless steel fermented. She wraps the bottle in a colorful bag and ties it with a bow, perfect for our hostess.

I swing by the hotel to pick up my dad, and together we take the train from the Monastiraki station to the northern town of Kifissia, where Irene lives. She meets us just outside the station and drives us to her house where friends, family, and food are waiting.

We rise before daybreak, and with our eyes half open, pack our bags. Within minutes of waking, we drop off our room key and walk out the door, missing our free breakfast. Our car is parked just outside of town, and with the lack of light, we have difficulty finding it. But once we locate the car, we load it with the help of starlight burning brightly above.

When we arrive at the town of Thebes, I notice a nearby coffee shop with an older man in the back and a young girl working the counter. I could use a good cup of coffee. As we enter the shop, I nod to a couple of Greek men drinking coffee and chatting it up on a couch in the corner. I walk up to the girl at the counter, say hello, and politely ask in English for a cup of coffee-to-go, but unfortunately, she doesn’t understand me. This is the first time since I’ve been in Greece and encountered a language barrier. I suspect it happens often when traveling off the beaten path. With a few smiles and gestures, I’m able to communicate my order, or at least I think I have. Instead of the coffee-to-go I requested, I actually get an espresso-to-stay. I probably look a little surprised when she hands it to me, but I smile and thank her. Ah well, my fault for not speaking Greek. It’s a delicious espresso with an almost sweet, nutty flavor and includes a glass of water with a little piece of chocolate on the side. This break offers a moment to pause during this busy day, stay off the crowded streets, and slow down enough to enjoy the moment with a luscious, rich, and foamy espresso.

As we drive to the archeological site of Brauran located near Vravrona, Greece, I notice the countryside feels like my home in California’s Sonoma County. Vravrona is an agricultural area with head-pruned grape vines growing in the fields. We pass several farm stands at road side, selling fruit and vegetables. The unassuming site of Brauran tucks neatly off the side of the road, blending in with the surrounding landscape. With no parking lot or signs to distinguish the site, we drive right past it and have to turn around and park.

In Classical Greece, Brauron was a school for girls, many of whom came from Athens. Several columns of its stoa are still standing, surrounded by a manicured lawn. At the far end of the site, I notice a gardener, just finishing his lunch under a tree, as he stands up to begin raking leaves.

After walking through the site once, I choose a place on the far side, looking back toward the entrance, set up my chair, and prepare to draw. This location is perfect, not only for its view of the ruins, but also because of the large shade tree. After baking in Delphi’s sun all day yesterday, a little shade sounds good.

Sounion, one of the more complete temples I’ve seen, is perched on a cliff overlooking the Aegean. I’d hoped I would be able to paint this ruin with the sea in the background, but I can find no angle to accomplish that. I find a spot with a traditional three-quarters view, sit on an ancient block of marble, and begin to draw. I’m tired from the day’s drive that, unbelievably, started in Delphi, so at this point, I’m just going through the motions. I need a break. I’m finding that being an artist on the road is not just about the drawing. I did a lot of driving today, and all my other energy resulted in only two paintings. Driving, not painting, took up most of the day. But drawing is now relaxing me, allowing my mind to slow down enough to soak up the surroundings. I’m in rhythm with the land once again, and I can smell the salty sea.