#paramythia

[loveanimehatereality]

One Piece SBS #429 - Paramecia! ~ LoveAnimeHateReality

[theancientwayoflife]

~ Bronze figure of Jupiter.

Date: A.D. 100-199

Place of origin: Paramythia

Period/Culture: Roman

Medium: Bronze

[ragnarsnowbraw]

— Training scene —

Não fazia muito tempo desde que uma pequena chuva houvesse caído nas dependências do Instituto. Ainda que o céu do fim da tarde estivesse límpido como uma tarde veranil, o clima pós-chuva se configurava em todo o cenário; poças de chuva estavam aqui e ali, deixando a grama escorregadia e perigosa; os pássaros cantavam em suas árvores, num instinto animal de saber se seus ninhos estavam bem através do canto; duas figuras empunhadas de armas corriam uma na direção da outra no pátio externo. 

— Nosso pai me mandou uma carta — disse ele, se preparando para o próximo golpe de Tormenta. Tinha de ser atento em relação à irmã; sabia que ela gostava de usar todo tipo de conduta, fosse boa ou má, para te colocar sob a sola de seu calçado. Não estavam treinando fazia muito tempo, a dez ou quinze minutos atrás estavam apenas se xingando e disparando injúrias que fariam alguns dos bonum ficarem sem dormir por alguns ciclos lunares. Girou ambas as espadas gêmeas nas mãos, com os ganchos fundidos nas pontas; tinham um bom corte, e eram ótimas para deter o inimigo. — Falou para você enviar alguma carta ou coisa assim. Queria saber se seu machado ainda estava bem afiado. 

Ragnar saltou sobre a poça de água, aproximando-se da irmã. Braços erguidos, posição defenso-evasiva. Pronto para atacar ou amparar algum outro ataque dela. Bateu firme as botas na água e alavancou uma perna para cima, para que as gotículas fossem contra o rosto da irmã gêmea. 

— Algum assunto bobo para puxar assunto. O velho deve estar se sentindo solitário. — E desceu uma das espadas, na direção do flanco de Tormenta. 

[elladastinkardiamou]

Greece's last bellmakers keep time-honored trade alive

In one of Greece’s last remaining bell foundries in the small, western town of Paramythia, the Galanopoulos brothers are busy casting church bells heading to Ethiopia and Romania, pouring red-hot molten metal into moulds of varying sizes.

Their family-run business has been around for 215 years. These days, exports keep it alive.

“More than half of our production goes abroad,” said Thomas Galanopoulos, 59, the elder of the two, wreathed in smoke rising from melting copper and tin.

At its peak, the foundry was producing 120 tonnes of bells a year for steeples across Greece, he said. Now, it’s down to 50 tonnes and their main customers are churches in the Balkans and Africa, while they also ship to Israel, Lebanon and Australia.

The Greek Orthodox Church permeates daily life in Greece, a country dotted with churches and chapels in even its most remote corners. But when the crisis hit, domestic demand collapsed.

[dramoor]

Paramythia – A miracle-working icon of Mother of God, Vatopedi Monastery, Mount Athos, Greece

(Image via facebook)

[elladastinkardiamou]

Greece’s last bellfounders keep time-honored craft alive

Thomas Galanopoulos (left), 59, and his brother Christos, 55, prepare to clean a bell at their bell foundry in Paramythia, northwestern Greece, in this photograph taken last month. "More than half of our production goes abroad," the elder brother said of the bells manufactured by one of the country’s last bell foundries. At its peak, the foundry was producing 120 tons of bells a year for bell towers across Greece. Now, it is down to 50 tons and its key customers are churches in the Balkans and Africa. Photo by Alkis Konstantinidis/Reuters

[xorio]

[elladastinkardiamou]

The Craft of Bell-Making in Northwest Greece

Thomas carefully climbs the steps next to the furnace. The molten metal is bubbling at 1500◦ C. The white-haired man stretches out his hand, feeling the heat. “It’s low; it needs more.” His son and his nephew respond immediately, running to add more metal to the pot before stepping away.

The atmosphere is stiflingly hot. Through a small widow, we can see the metal fighting the fire, and succumbing slowly to its power. At the end of the process, a ton of copper and tin has been transformed into a thick orange-red liquid.

The molten metal which will be poured carefully into molds is the raw material for the Galanopoulos brothers’ famous bells. From their workshop in Paramythia in Thesprotia, their bells, large and small, have traveled to the far corners of the earth: Greece, Germany, Kenya, Tanzania, Australia and the United States. They make more than a thousand bells a year.

The Galanopoulos family workshop is one of two remaining bell-makers in Greece. The craft is slowly dying out, but the Galanopoulos brothers persist. Their story is one of striving and survival.