I am fascinated by Agaves, by the mythological resonance of their name, their wild appearance, by how Greeks call them colloquially: “The immortal”. I approach each Agave as if it were a wild animal. I visit each plant again and again, I notice how their limbs move…
“Her hands picked it up,
then stuck it on a thyrsus, at the tip.
Now she carries it around Cithaeron,
as though it were some wild lion’s head.
She’s left her sisters dancing with the Maenads.
She’s coming here, inside these very walls,
showing off with pride her ill-fated prey.
[Euripides, “Bacchae”, Athens, 405 BC]
All images ©Christos Chrissopoulos