Writing poetry, for me, is one of the most secure places to be. It becomes safer when coming back to read and revise with a minimum or no repetitions, cutting corners as poetry should be, makes the mind sharper and aware of a line of wrong and no wrong, good or not good that comes from living in a linear world of dualism. If writing is an art to impress the reader, then living on the island is an art itself in solidarity. It is also an experience in the present moment, making people come back alone or come back with others, returning to such a marvelous place like the island of Aegina where my mother was born and raised and the place I have spent all my summers of my youth and adulthood to remedy my boredom torment.