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Can a landscape become a teacher? What is the nature of clarity?
Pericles Giannopoulos, Divine Appearances: the Greek Line & the Greek Color
Page 21
And it is even more than the stone-soils and more ethereally, those that are like scraped marbles and like scraped clay pottery, and like scraped precious stones, which are our soil, a soil empty like air, from the multicolor Holly Ash which is the Greek Land, our Mother Land, our Land, like they evaporate - like the heat - like emerging colors out of the etherial matter and out of the most principal etherial color bases and etherial colors, somehow, somewhere incarnated and from the last, hardly visible surface of everything that exists and appears, they are passing, Colors are passing even more inconceivable, even more joyful, ever moving, caressing and immaterial like the Shadows at the sides of the hills of the small slow clouds of the sky, elevating like thin smoke, caught like smoke of hair, pulled lustfully like dissolving incense, Color Aurae transforming the whole cosmic material into bunches of multicolor goldflying dust, transforming the mountains into lighted aromatic cones, the colors into the sweetest flames shining from their inside aloes of incenses, or, at the far summer gold-fire of liquids, solids, heavens and airs, at those hours of the invisible absorption of every tiny steam and energy, of the expansion and disappearance of the air, the whole cosmic matter is transformed to something which has no relation whatever with anything steady, anything earthy, anything material, anything existing, into something metallic, but the shine of metals, but only metallic Light, into something like a stone-ring, but sight of precious stones, of only such stones' light, into a multicolor air of glass, which, however, someone can easily pass, like a ray comes through the glass, into a glass of multipleasing air color, because even the spectator himself is transformed and evaporates, feeling like walking in the heavenly airs, walking on the heavenly stones, is himself transformed into Idea, Air, Color, he thinks that he is an artificial non-existing being, the image of a man inscribed into the image of a nature painted by an artist of some other planet; and either those or the other sights extend the Color Sense of the spectator to the most distant point of a possible ennoblement and refined sensualism, exhale the divinest Color Joy, panoramic spectacle of a Nature, which, NOBODY can imagine without seeing it, and when having seen it, NOBODY NEVER can imagine anything more perfect and joyous.
Cf. Images of Greece * Oscar Wilde, I stood upon the soil of Greece at last! * Jules Verne, Not anyone can see Naxos on the moon! * Mark Twain, Seeing Athens by stealth and moonlight * W. Davis, The Physical Setting of Athens
