As you set out for Ithaca
hope your road is a long one,
full of adventure, full of discovery.
angry Poseidon - don't be afraid of them:
you' ll never find things like that on your way
as long as you keep your thoughts raised high,
as long as a rare excitement
stirs your spirit and your body.
wild Poseidon - you won't encounter them
unless you bring them along inside your soul,
unless your soul sets them up in front of you.
Hope your road is a long one.
May there be many summer mornings when,
with what pleasure, what joy,
you enter harbours you're seeing for the first time;
may you stop at Phoenician trading stations
to buy fine things,
mother of pearl and coral, amber and ebony,
sensual perfume of every kind -
as many sensual perfumes as you can;
and may you visit many Egyptian cities
to learn and go on learning from their scholars.
Keep Ithaca always in your mind.
Arriving there is what you're destined for.
But don't hurry the journey at all.
Better if it lasts for years,
so you're old by the time you reach the island,
wealthy with all you've gained on the way,
not expecting Ithaca to make you rich.
Ithaca gave you the marvelous journey.
Without her you wouldn't have set out.
She has nothing left to give you now.
And if you find her poor, Ithaca won't have fooled you.
Wise as you will have become, so full of experience,
you'll have understood by then what these Ithakas mean.
Konstantinos Kawafis "Ithaca"
Under the motto of the "Sun King", the Garden is captured as soon as our gaze falls upon it. The phenomenon of seeing is the same as possession: when we see something, simultaneously we feel that we gain it. Yet what happens when the image confronts us with an absence, loss, and emptiness, when the subject itself is precisely the essence of being absent? Once the phenomenon of seeing is linked to the question of being, what happens when, while looking, we feel the absence – when to see means to lose? The Greek word "paradeios" had two senses. The first was "garden." Only later in the Greek translation of the Old Testament did the word start to mean "the gardens of Eden," "the paradise." Through the Greeks, "hortus conclusus" came into the European tradition – a "limited walled garden" which came to symbolize paradise.
When living in a Christian culture, it is difficult not to think about Paradise references even for a moment. The Paradise Garden works in the human consciousness as a place in which people once lived, but have since lost access to. The Garden became a symbol not only of eternal happiness, but also of humankind’s inexpressible longing and melancholia