Chalkidiki ~ All the Weekends We Share

06/06/2025

A photographic journal ~ June 2025

Paul carrying Melina beside the sea at Possidi Cape, with both raising an arm toward the sky.

We had been planning this weekend for two or three months. For the Holy Spirit holiday in June 2025, Iasonas and Eirini would come up from Patras, and Melina and I would take them to our holiday home in Chalkidiki. I had wanted to bring them there for years.

They had missed the wedding party Verena and I held in Nea Skioni on 18 August 2018. Eirini was working that Saturday, and Iasonas had offered to drive up after her shift. I told them to leave it. Six hours on the road after work, just to make the party, felt like too much. This time, we had a whole weekend together.

“All the weekends we share”

01 / A PLAN, WITH ROOM TO PLAY

We went to Possidi Cape with golden hour in mind. The location and the light were part of the plan; the photographs came together freely once we were there. Cameras out, a little direction, plenty of messing around.

With Iasonas and Eirini, a photo or video shoot is often part of the trip. Eirini is his muse, and they both love the process. I think of what they make as high production value memories. A place they visited becomes something they have imagined and created together.

Aerial view of the setting sun and its orange reflection across the sea at Possidi Cape.

Melina standing among grasses below the white lighthouse at Possidi Cape.

02 / A FAMILIAR KIND OF ENERGY

Iasonas and I met through an online OnePlus community more than a decade ago. Conversations about phones became conversations about cameras, photography and video. We bought the same early vlogging cameras, then drones and bigger cameras, each following our own ideas.

Seeing how far he has taken that enthusiasm makes me proud. He still gives it everything. After Melina was born, my own photography slowed down. Carrying a baby came first; carrying all the equipment became less appealing. I have been trying to find that spark again ever since.

When we are together, it comes back. There is nostalgia in it, but also a lot of positive energy. Picking up the camera feels like muscle memory.

The moon above a calm sea beneath a soft blue and pink twilight sky in Chalkidiki.

03 / A PERSON WITHIN THE LANDSCAPE

I have always been drawn to landscapes: nature, open space, quiet compositions and a little abstraction. Watching Iasonas work has made me curious about photographing people too.

Even then, I tend to think about the whole frame. A person becomes part of the landscape, their presence working with the light and the space around them. That is how I approached these photographs.

Eirini in a white dress sitting on the beach, with softly lit sand and sea around her.

Eirini standing by the sea beneath the moon, framed by a wide blue evening sky at Possidi Cape.

04 / THAT DAY IS THIS PHOTOGRAPH

The photograph I remember first is Melina raising her hand, imitating the shape of the cape ~ after seeing the drone shot. I had imagined a halo of sunlight behind her. When I edited it, I leaned into the very pale orange of the sunset instead, making that colour stronger.

For me, that day is this photograph of Melina. I had come along to help carry cameras and take a few pictures. Then this small gesture became the image that held the afternoon.

She was six, happily doing her own thing, surrounded by people she loves. To her, Iasonas was usually “the monster” (το τέρας); Eirini was Eirini. We laughed, played around and took pictures when she felt like it. When she did not, I let it go. I might wish I could photograph a moment, but I can still keep it in my head.

Melina raising her hand against the sunlight, surrounded by the warm orange glow of sunset.

Overhead drone view of the curved white sand spit at Possidi Cape surrounded by turquoise water.

05 / LOOK AT THE BEAUTIFUL COLOURS

When I am having a good time, my mind still goes back to how it would feel if Verena were there with us. My closest friends knew our life before and after her death. With them, there is room to say that she would have loved something, or to remember her together.

Sunsets were her love language. She loved watching the sun fall into the sea. “Schau, die schönen Farben” ~ look at the beautiful colours. We used to say it to Melina, and I still do.

I want her to know that one of the most beautiful things in the world is free. You can give it five or ten minutes of your day and simply watch. There is beauty in the passing of time, in the ending of a day. An ending can hold something wonderful.

As we make more memories, I feel that empty space filling a little. The longing becomes less intense, while the new moments bring their own happiness.

Eirini standing on the beach with her phone raised toward the evening sky.

The orange sun shining through deep red clouds at sunset in Chalkidiki.

06 / ALL THE WEEKENDS

As soon as the sun went down, the mosquitoes came up. We packed the cameras and headed home. Melina went to sleep, and we stayed up talking about the shoot while Iasonas had already started working on the photographs and videos.

The moon was bright enough that we could not see the Milky Way that evening. I have photographed it at Possidi before, on nights when I went there alone with a tripod. This time, the evening belonged to our company.

What stayed with me most was how extraordinary it is to have friends. When I returned to Greece and found myself on my own, I was frightened by the thought of being without the support I had known in Austria. People like Iasonas help me see life more positively.

There are four or five people I would do anything for. We can be hundreds of kilometres apart, and I still feel deeply lucky to have them.

It is not only this weekend with Iasonas and Eirini. It is all the weekends with Iasonas and Eirini.