“ Speak , Memory”, ( VI Nabokov ).

” Early childhood memory: clay pitharia hidden in shady store rooms but the smell of olive oil betraying them. How many memories it takes to fill the old forgotten pithari at the village? There is space enough for the honest labour, the many smiles, the joyful gatherings of family and friends in the countryside. There’s even space for the sun that bakes the earth and turns it to clay, the same sun that ripens the fruit of the olive tree on the island of Crete for 4.000 years. How much memory have you got? How many pitharia would you need to store the images, the smells, the caresses you do not wish to forget? 

Today the pitharia decorate our gardens and courtyards. But before the age of the refrigerator their importance was vital in domestic economy since people were storing the fruit of their labour for months even years.”