"My Foundations Are in the Mountains" (Elder Vasileios of Iveron in Sedona, Arizona, 2012), acrylic on canvas, by Bishop Maxim, 2022

My foundations are in the mountains (Odysseus Elytis, Axion estin)

My foundations are in the mountains
and people carry the mountains on their shoulders
and memory is burning on top of them
like an unburnt bush.
 
Memory of my people your name is Pindos, your name is Athos.

You are the only one recognizing the man from his heel
You are the only one talking from the rock's sharp edge
You are the only one sharpening the face of the saints
and you are the only one dragging from the edge of the eternal waters
a Resurrection eastertime.
 
You are touching my mind and the baby of Spring hurts
You are punishing my hand and it whitens amid the dark
Always, always you are leaving behind the fire to reach the glow
Always, always you are leaving behind the glow
to reach the high snow-honored mountains.
 
But what kind of mountains, Who and what in the mountains
 
My foundations are found in the mountains
and people carry the mountains on their shoulders
and memory is burning on top of them
like an unburnt bush.

"We admire the way the painter processed nature, the edges of the mountains. The desert blossomed with so many colors. And the stairs are on fire. Random? The monks give blood to ascend the ladder of virtues.
It is unbelievable how our unconscious leads us to the painter's expression (color and design) without (perhaps) much logical processing.
There is another thing that impresses us: the detail of the plants at the base of the ladder. There are no cacti in Greece, but figuratively what could be better there, at the bottom of the ladder we are called to climb? Cacti with thorns are the mistakes and passions that keep us planted in the ground." (Asteroula Thermou)

Θαυμάζουμε τον τροπο που ο ζωγράφος επεξεργάστηκε την φύση, τις άκρες των βουνών. Με τόσα χρώματα άνθησε η έρημος. Και τα σκαλοπάτια έχουν πάρει φωτιά. Τυχαία; Δίνουν αίμα οι μοναχοί για ν ανέβουν την κλίμακα των αρετών.
Είναι απίθανο πως το ασυνείδητο μας, η ενσυναίσθηση, μας οδηγούν την έκφραση (χρωματική και σχεδιαστική) του ζωγράφου χωρίς (ίσως) πολλή λογική επεξεργασία.
Ακόμα κάτι που μας κάνει εντύπωση. Η λεπτομέρεια των φυτών στην βάση της σκάλας. Κάκτοι δεν υπάρχουν κυριολεκτικά στην Ελλάδα, όμως μεταφορικά τι καλύτερο θα μπορούσε να μπει εκεί, στην βάση της σκάλας που καλούμαστε ν᾽ ανέβουμε; κάκτοι με αγκάθια, που είναι τα λάθη και τα παθια που μας κρατούν... φυτεμένους στην γη. (Αστερούλα Θερμού)

Fr. Stamatis Skliris:

LANDSCAPE:

The landscape that surrounds the ascetic has two features: 1. As a cloud are transparent skins of the family of blue colors. 2. The rocky shores stand correctly in the stereometry of the landscape and in correct color complementarity to the cold clouds. It is completed by the stepped orange rocky complex to the monk’s right. It is a wise formation of a background, where the high clouds and the vastness of the sea horizon give spiritual greatness to the silhouette of the Elder as if it exists regardless of gravity and other natural laws.

THE FACE:

Through such a well-designed environment, the absolute value of the image is projected—the face. It seems to have come out of the hands of the illustrator very easily and simply, although it transparently expresses deep existential concerns. The skin of the face, despite some wrinkles, is calm and smooth, expressing the kindness of Fr. Vasileios.

But his two eyes express a sacred adolescence, the endless in-depth exploration of the meaning of this infinite beauty of the landscape for the meaning of the world, for the future of the world. It is as if he is telling us: “Give me all the worlds, bring me all the graces of nature, my soul thirsts for the One! The Divine Love of Christ!” It is indeed a portrait of a real monk, who is chosen by nature, but longs for the Kingdom of heaven. I cannot understand how the painter Maxim managed to show us this, but I get this meaning from this image. It is essential. The expression of the eyes of this kind person, who does not scream but concerns us with the genuine solitary reflection on the divine desire for the “beautiful call” and his eternal Kingdom.

It reminds me of a time when we were with Father Athanasios of Herzegovina on the island of Hydra, and I praised the beauty of the moonlight one night, and the Elder said to me: “If these are so beautiful here, think, my brother, what will be what Christ has prepared for us in His Kingdom!”

Some of our works are graced by God with a special blessing. Well done.