growing up in Athens, the first survival skill you develop is paying close attention to your feet. You have to look closely where you step or you’ll find yourself in a hole all the way down to China — left there by civil servants that called it a day before finishing up the job. So, you look down.
Looking at your feet is something you don’t just give up when you move to a city with real sidewalks. That’s why, when I first came to Ann Arbor I kept finding money on the ground. It’s not that I was lucky. It’s that nobody else looked down to see it first.
Looking at your feet is just a step away from taking pictures of your feet. Trust me it’s not a foot fetish, it tells the story of the places you walk.
I remember lounging around with my friend Solero on the beach of some Greek island and she took a picture of our feet against the emerald green background of the sea. That was my favorite picture of that summer. So I kept doing it, I kept taking pictures of the image Athenians see most, of the steps I took and the places they took me.
A few days ago Thetis sent me this link because she knows I was always taking these kinds of pictures myself. Although I’m not as good as this professional photographer (we’ve been over this so many times: having a camera doesn’t make you a photographer), I made a compilation of a few of them.