Author Archive

Isle of Man

Text & Photos: George Partsinevelos
Translated by: John Agrafiotis

I remember myself when I was at the elementary school staring at the beauty of the landscape from the back window of a car. I was fascinated by the endless roads and all the things that were revealed in front of my childish eyes! I felt the astonishing feeling, for a child, of discovering the world and I was silently enjoying every route, long or short, trying to observe the world that was being uncovered to me.

Sometime then, the first motorcycles made their appearance overtaking us, sometimes fast and in a hurry, chasing or being chased by, the time and sometimes slowly, lazily, enjoyably…

It was then that I started observing them and feeling an unknown attraction to this mass of plastic and metal that made their riders have a strange glimpse on their eyes every time they took their helmet off.

A bit later, when I was finishing junior high school, the first magazines about motorcycles came out and I got “infected”. I was impatiently waiting every new issue and I started dreaming about the roads that were waiting for me to cross them on my motorcycle. As the years were passing, I realized that I didn’t want to live with the dreams and the clichés created by magazines, so I stopped buying them.

However, the seed had been planted.

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A November in John O’Groats

Text & Photos: George Partsinevelos
Translated by: John Agrafiotis

Every November I feel the time heavy leaning on my back. … and I wonder if I will be able to give life to the rest of the time given to me.

I feel it leaving marks on my mortal body and on my little thought. And a bit of sorrow to remind me all the things I will not live. For all that will call me, to their hug but I will leave, one more time, I will leave far away.

But I wake up some mornings and I want to get rid of all these from inside me and walk peacefully down my own path.

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