This sculpture is inspired by two different images from our house. One photo was with my parents in Germany in 1984 and the other photo was when I still wore my baptismal clothes, gift from my godmother Stella Velonaki.

I would like to say a few words about my parents. My father, John Koutantos of Demetrios, was born in 1935 in Axos. It was the second child of a large family with eight siblings. Difficult years, forced my father, still as a child 10 years old, to work as a little shepherd in the next village Anogia. He was trained as ‘madratzis’, so one day he went from the mountain Psiloritis/Nida to Anogia with the donkey loaded with woods, a distance of 20-25 km, and the next day returned with food for the shepherds at the foot of Psiloritis. This trade continued for some years. When his father died he helped, as eldest son, his brothers and sisters to grow up, study, find a job and married.

My mother, Maria Blazou of Emmanuel and Zacharenia was born in Axos in 1951. It was the first child of the family followed by John, Georgia and Theonymfi. Difficult years, my mother stopped school after graduating from the primary school. Axos did not have secondary school but my mother as a girl could not continue her studies in the neighbouring village. She married at 15, but her siblings studied, her brother John mathematician, Georgia social worker and teacher, and Theonymfi nurse.

Since when married their life was a commitment, my mother took over the business at home and raising children and my father in agricultural and other outdoors responsibilities. It took a lot for my mother to care eight children and help them to study at home, while my father had also hard manual work seven days a week, from night to night in the fields. At a time I remember my father was farmer, shepherd, sweeper, barber, and more. I like to think that with their work and ethics they grew well their children, so I chose to make them with this form as right parents and family people.

My mother was particularly active in literature and when we grew up and went away from home for many years made a folklore research in the surrounding area and not feel alone, perhaps one day this material will be published. My father was an optimistic man, even when sick with cancer he liked to create again and again herd of animals and do large crops. For sometime sick but as soon as he was recovering he lived his dreams in every day reality. He died on March 27, 2004 at the age of 69 years. They say a man does not die but lives forever in our memories, among us, especially once very loved.