The Persistence of Time by: avramidisv

Time is not Linear on . . . → Read More: Time is not Linear]]> To navigate the story, either click the arrows to go forwards and backwards, or click and drag the story itself. Enjoy!

For best results, view in full screen (click on the ‘more’ button).

A digital story about the power of books.

Ok … so I know that this is not my usual style, however I thought I would try somethign different.  Originally I wanted these images to slide through the opening in the image like a viewfinder, but I couldn’t figure out how to do that technically. . . . → Read More: A Slices of Life]]>

Ok … so I know that this is not my usual style, however I thought I would try somethign different.  Originally I wanted these images to slide through the opening in the image like a viewfinder, but I couldn’t figure out how to do that technically. So instead, I showed each of the images in series. I have not given up on the original concept, I just need longer to try and figure it out.

This story is about the various stages in life, as seen from God’s perspective. Here are the quotes that were used in each of the slices:

Slice #1: Surely goodness and love follow me all the days of my life.

Slice #2: For you created my inmost being, You knit me together in my mother’s womb.

Slice #3: You brought me out of the womb, you made me trust in you even at my mother’s breast.

Slice #4: Be happy young man while you are young and and let your heart give you joy in the days of your youth.

Slice #5: Whoever loves money never has enough, whoever loves wealth is never satisfied: this too is meaningless.

Slice #6: When I surveyed all that my hands had done and what I had toiled to achieve, everything was meaningless, a chasing after the wind.

Slice #7: I tell you the truth, he who believes has everlasting life.

Slice #8: Where O’ Death is your victory, where O’ Death is your sting?

 

Original Script:

“Don’t try to do too much” he urged, “take baby steps.” This is the advice I often heard from my spiritual father. 

I have always been someone who . . . → Read More: Baby Steps]]>

Original Script:

“Don’t try to do too much” he urged, “take baby steps.” This is the advice I often heard from my spiritual father. 

I have always been someone who wanted all or nothing. I was never patient. I have always wanted it all now! This is no surprise, after all, I am a product of my generation. 

But no matter how often he urged me to take it slow, to take baby steps, I ignored him.

Leap after leap, I lunged headlong towards some lofty goal.

These leaps always end up with me flat on my face, further away from where I started. 

Years went by, and countless times I heard him say, “don’t do too much too fast, take baby steps, one small step at a time.”  It went in one ear and out the other.

He died last year, the loving spiritual father to countless people. I realized at his funeral just how much he had to teach me, and just much I took him for granted.  As I sit here thinking of him, I am reminded of his holy life, and the wisdom he fed me with. And I realize how right he was. Baby steps are key.

When I look back at all the successes I have had, and all the gains I have made, I realize one thing; they were made with baby steps. 

I have heard it said once that nothing good in life is acquired without pain of heart. In other words, everything that is worth while takes hard work, and patience.

I have never made any great leaps forward in life, but I have come miles … one small step after one small step … baby steps. 

- Story and Illustration by Vas Avramidis

 

A digital story about the memory rocks that I have been collecting for almost the last twenty years.

Original Script

Rocks everywhere. They are the foundation upon which the very earth itself is built. Rocks contain a natural beauty, that can be sculpted and refined, and transmuted into almost anything. We often take . . . → Read More: Rocks Are Everywhere]]>

A digital story about the memory rocks that I have been collecting for almost the last twenty years.

Original Script

Rocks everywhere. They are the foundation upon which the very earth itself is built. Rocks contain a natural beauty, that can be sculpted and refined, and transmuted into almost anything. We often take rocks for granted, but they are an integral part of our lifves and our world. Rocks shelter us, they house us, they stand as markers of our past, and tell the stories of our lives. Rocks are everywhere.

I have been collecting rocks almost twenty years now.. Each rock I collect has a story to tell. Its a memory marker, charged with emotion and full of meaning. Some rocks remind me of painful experiences. The death of a child, or the loss of a parent. They remind me of how permanent a memory can be, even if life itself is fleeting.

Not all rocks mark painful experiences, some are reminders of triumph. The first rock I ever collected was one such rock. I was in my early twenties and was visiting Colorado with friends, when we decided to go rock climbing. I was hesitant, but to embarrassed to voice my fear. Not too long into our climb, I found myself alone, stuck on a cluster of rocks. My friends long gone. I became panic stricken. I couldn’t go up any farther, and was terrified to come down. I sat there in fear.

That’s when I saw it, across the canyon, the face of an old man in a rock. The image filled me with peace. Though I wasn’t a believer at that time, something inside me said, “that’s the face of God”.

Immediately i got up, and started to come down the mountain. Half way down, I paused and looked around me and picked up a rock. I wanted to remember this moment forever. The moment I overcame my fears. When I look at that rock today, I am reminded of that moment; the courage, the strength, and that face, God’s face, and I am filled with joy and peace.

Rocks are everywhere.

- Video and script by Vas Avramidis

Original Script

“Roger was here looking for you this morning”, my wife told me as I struggle to open my eyes . “I told him you like to sleep in on Saturday . . . → Read More: Under His Wing]]>

Original Script

“Roger was here looking for you this morning”, my wife told me as I struggle to open my eyes . “I told him you like to sleep in on Saturday mornings.”

Roger was an old friend of mine, more of a teacher actually. I had known him for years.

When I first met Roger, my life had grown stagnant. I no longer prayed and melancholy gripped my heart. I was dissatisfied with what I had become.

Roger was nothing like me. He was full of joy. He filled the sky with songs. He was at peace.

“How is it that you are always so happy?” I asked him.

He didn’t say much at first. He just cocked his head and looked deep into my eyes. Then he whistled a short prayer and I knew instinctively what he was saying.

Everything in life is a gift from the Creator, and we should be thankful for even the smallest gifts in life.

Roger awoke every morning with the sun, and spent hours singing his praises to God. He never worried about anything. He had perfect faith. Roger knew that God would provide for him. He was content.

I wanted to be like Roger, I wanted to learn from him.

I’ve spent the last four years of my life watching him, and talking with him. He has truly become my teacher and taught me what a book could never teach. He taught me how to be at peace with myself. And for that … I am truly thankful.

- Script and Illustration by Vasilios Avramidis

Peaceful Witness is a story about my experience with a group of monks who follow the ancient tradition of Orthodox Monasticism. I was inspired to tell this story because of the great impact that these men have had on my life. The abbot of the monastery, who was also my spiritual father, passed . . . → Read More: Peaceful Witness]]>

Peaceful Witness is a story about my experience with a group of monks who follow the ancient tradition of Orthodox Monasticism. I was inspired to tell this story because of the great impact that these men have had on my life. The abbot of the monastery, who was also my spiritual father, passed away almost two years ago, and I wanted to tell this story to honor his way of life.

The River

My life can be drawn like the map of a mighty river, it begins strong and full of rapids; tumultuous. It barrels through canyons, taking with it anything that was unfortunate enough to occupy . . . → Read More: The River]]>

The River

My life can be drawn like the map of a mighty river, it begins strong and full of rapids; tumultuous. It barrels through canyons, taking with it anything that was unfortunate enough to occupy its banks. 

My youth was spent as a headstrong verbal pugilist, looking for any opportunity to enter into fierce debate, delivering blow after blow upon my unsuspecting adversaries. My opponents were reduced to tears on more than one occasion. And although I felt some remorse, It was short lived as I celebrated yet another victory.

Though this did not prove to do wonders for my social life, I didn’t care. I fancied myself as some sort of modern day prophet, shouting down anyone who opposed me. “Prophets don’t need friends I told myself. Their lack of popularity is how they know they are right.” I thought I knew it all, I thought I had all the answers. I was secure, confident, and wielded my words like a sword. 

But God opposes the proud. I was a fool in His eyes. After years of prideful, boastful living, I found myself alone. Abandoned by friends and family. My life had grown empty. I spent most nights alone, sitting on the couch, numbing my loneliness and pain with marijuana and alcohol. I even lost my job because of my arrogance. I was my own worst enemy, and it was time to turn the sword of Truth upon myself.

It was on one of these lonely, smoke filled nights that everything finally became clear. As smoke filled my lungs, my mind began to loosen. My grip was weakening, I was ready to give up control. My body became heavier with every drag of the pipe, my arms barely able to lift themselves. My mind however opened up like a rose bud in the morning. It swam in the shifting waves that crashed against my frontal lobes, bobbing higher and higher, until it was finally free. My desperate need to always be right had been put to sleep by the psychotropics that now coursed through my veins. 

It was in this state that I experienced clarity. I saw just how foolish I had been. I was no better than anyone else. I was no prophet. I was simply a stubborn and arrogant fool who was afraid to truly get close to anyone. I was because of my insecurity that I fought so hard to show the world how brilliant I supposedly was. Debate was the mask I chose to wear in order to protect myself. 

It was then that it dawned on me. All that I had believed, I believed because someone else told me to believe it. This is what I so fiercely defended, not my own thoughts and beliefs, but those of someone else.

This was my moment of clarity, my awakening. I sprang up from my seat and announced to an empty room, “I know nothing! I have never had an original thought in my entire life!” And this I realized was my first truly original thought … the realization that I knew nothing. 

I was now a blank slate, ready to discover truth for myself. Never again would I pummel people verbally who disagreed with me. Instead I would seek understanding. Compassion was the new rule of my life, and love my truest aim. I was finally free. 

No longer did I live my life like a raging river, destroying all it came into contact with. My turbulent current had no slowed to a trickle, branching off into a gently flowing stream. I was now able to slow down and actually take notice of the beauty surrounding me. My mind was now capable of truly seeing for the first time. With this new attitude, I entered the world in search of truth and understanding. Every encounter was a new learning opportunity. And every moment, a gift of love from God.

- Story and Art by Vasilios Avramidis