The most unpleasant experience I had in my childhood was the years of school and later the years of military service. I started school at the age of seven, and on the first day, during the first hour, within the first few minutes, the teacher interrogated me to determine whether I was a girl or a boy. The reason was my long hair. And when he finally realized that I was a boy, he sent me away, telling me that I must first go get a haircut and then come back to school. It goes without saying that I absolutely hated school, as well as its teachers and their narcissism of authoritarianism.

I was somewhat redeemed by the relatively brief experiences with an inspiring teacher in elementary school and a philologist in high school, who showed me that not all of them are scoundrels. Thus, school and the sickly education it offered remained an utterly detestable part of my life. Nevertheless, my relationship with education continued, not of course in Greece, but in some other European countries, where I studied and met and adored great teachers.

This was on my mind when I opened Octopus Press, a hub and refuge and school for the youth of the era, whom I loved, and they loved me back. And the bookstore became, along with my home and my entire life, all the places where we would meet, sites of liberating celebration, places of friendship, love, and daily creative works that left indelible marks and traces of a future culture...