«The sea, the ship, the man. The journey ultimately. But which journey? I was ready to paint some ships. As I was counting them in order to calculate their volumes and sizes, I noticed a moving dot. It was then even I realised it was a man performing some works.

That relationship put me in thoughts. That small dot was the creator of that great volume. Without knowing why, when thinking of journeys, I think of Greece. Ulysses travel, Nostos. Kavafes still, tells me that Ithaca was only the pretext. Whom am I supposed to believe? By the end of my life’s travel will I have ultimately find out? I like though living with this doubt. I love the journey”

                                                                                                                                                Paris Prekas