I was born in 1991 and lived the first four years of my life in Avranlo, a small village in Georgia, in the area of Tsalka. The inhabitants of the village were Greeks, who settled in the area two centuries ago. Based on the ethics and history of their homeland, the Pontus, they built the village of Avranlo.
I returned to the village after 20 years. As an adult now, with my family. Moved by nostalgia, my grandfather and my parents wanted to return to their birthplace, to the place they grew up, loved and have been forced to give up.
The story of my family is identical to that of many other fellow villagers. Forced by the difficult conditions after the collapse of the Soviet Union, they fled their homes.
Klavdia (Klávdia) was the name of my grandmother. She was born and
lived in a village of Georgia, until the day she and my grandfather moved to Cyprus
with us. I didn't have with them a substantial relationship, language was a problem.
They stayed with us for almost two years until they moved to Russia. I remember the
day I’ve learned about my grandmother’s death I didn't know how to express myself.
Of course I knew that when someone dies you have to cry and in some way grieve for
him/her, if you loved him.
I was born in Avranlo and baptized Klavdia, same as my grandmother. When I
was a child, everyone from my broader family used to say that I was exactly like her,
meaning, I had a tough attitude and a need for independence.
Moving to Cyprus at the age of 5 was a big change for me. Somehow people
started calling me Klaudia (Klaūdia). I liked it for a long time, it was something unique
and cute for a child.
Until high school, the name Klaudia was replaced by the name Clodia (Klòdia).
Clodia stands for my art persona, it was during that time of my life that I discovered
the love for images.
Now, as the years pass, the cycle comes back where it started. It’s my way to
be honest with myself.
Klavdia is my name
Selfpublished Photobook, edition of 5
Athens Photo Festival, Young Greek Photographers, 2018.