Reduce the pace

Slowness is sacred. Speed is preached best by the charlatans!

Blank eyes

Pain appears to me as a white ghost. I run after it just to look her in the eyes. But the eyes, they always disappear to blank.

Oh, if I could just have one second with those eyes, I could forever make a friend of pain.

********

Step back from me, one or two or three. Live in the future of a present. That way only you may forget what made you hate the past.

4:16 AM- A cloudy moonless night...

The tall tree

One can never call the wind, evil; nor prove the thunder vicious; 

Rain pouring from the sky, is only rain; whether with a soft touch, or with ponderous steps;

But to become a tall tree you must have the courage to withstand them all; though you don't see malice indeed;

To become a tree, you must have the courage to be a tree...

12:57 am

Religion of Blood

I am a red liquid that travels inside your body. I am pure and honest to you, that's why I won't kill you. If you don't believe in me, cut yourself a little near skin, my red color never lies. I to you, am like a dog to his owner: loyal by all means. When needed, I'd even fight until the end for my utmost purity, because it is a fact, without a pure me, you'd go extinct in no time.

But, my loyalty doesn't just stop there. I am a hunter. I live beyond your time to follow those who shortened the life that was your right. From every drop that spills on the ground, my red shadows and ghosts arise; stalking those who murdered life, who murdered blood.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not after revenge, it is never my intention. I am just a dreadful reminder. Not that I look scary at all. Imagine the sight of the hideous action that needs to be forgotten, but it never does. That is why they are afraid of me. No; revenge is the last thing I want, but the unrighteous wants that more than remembrance.

I know you just don't believe in me, because you can't see me. But, I am, a red liquid inside your body, pure and loyal, a hunter, a stalker and a reminder. Beware, I can be a red ghost; Thou shalt not spill pure living blood!

Memoirs of a fool...

Tell me where the flame goes when you blow it off to your amusement; or how the leaf disappears after being drenched by the Autumn rain?
08.05.10

***

She, a lady with hazel eyes which looked as those of  a cat, charmingly slanted upwards. Me, a fifteen year old girl discovering the joys of drawing. Saw her after many years I was supposed to. Her house was filled with many nice paintings. During the dinner I looked at one and said: "these paintings..." Her eyes sparkled, "yes?"... "are very simple to draw..." The smile on the painter's thin lips faded out instantly...

Memories come back to you very late; most of the time...

***

It's there, yet, not!

Once in a while, I throw some pebbles into my mind...

I don't want to know!

We have been brought up in our minds. Taught from our childhood to analyze and to judge. We never learned how to enjoy the world. Spent many years studying religion, ideologies, ontology, right and wrong, sins, heaven and hell, yet there was not a single book on how to dance with the leaves in the wind.

Now, on my part, the world has changed. Before, I heard only arguments of "God's existence"; now, I've realized there are arguments against it too. I could spend a lifetime with my head going round wondering which one maybe true; and the fact is, I'd never know for sure. There are things you'll never really know while you are in this world.

Truth is I DON'T WANNA KNOW anymore!

I don't want to know if there really exists a God. Whether he's happy or angry. If those who don't believe are bad or those who do are stupid. I spent a whole life listening to all this. All I see is a fight. A fight on who is better or who's smarter. It's all a game, it only depends on which side you belong.

I decided I want to quit this game. I'm small enough to not have any influence on this world or on the people's thoughts- a drop in the sea- so no worries, I just want to live the way I want.

I want to take off my shoes, feel the coldness of the soil, dance with the leaves under the breeze, lie down under the clear blue sky, make shapes out of the clouds, sleep under the shade of a tree, talk to the moon, count the stars, smell a flower, run in the rain, fall in love with every single drop of snow, get wet just by looking at the sea, say hello to a friend, hug an animal, caress a bird, love a man. I just need to feel this world I'm born into.

I'm tired of thinking; I figured out, I'd like to be drunk, with life, for life. And if later any God asked about me, I'd show him my memories, photos and artworks, look at him with a smile and say: so you are the artist everyone talked about; I've always been a fan. you are great! nice to meet you at last and well can you sign here for me? Yes, right here!!!

My name is ... a nobody?

Currently, I am reading a pretty interesting book from a Turkish author and Nobel Prize winner, Orhan Pamuk. Apart from having an incredible story- three of my deep interests -History, Persia and Art- are all over "My Name is Red".

But this post is not about the book itself, but the idea behind it. Throughout the story, one can see how religious beliefs were holding back the introduction of new art styles to Iran & Turkey. Around 400 years ago, in Europe, individuality of the artistic works were being widely spread. Talking about the fact that one for becoming an artist must posses an individual style which with one look at the art form, you'll know to whom it belongs.

 

At the same time, in the East, art was all about perfection. The miniaturists weren't eager to show who the artist is and instead, their greater focus was perfection of all the forms, lines and colorings. Then, there were few people who travelled to Europe and saw the portrait paintings which had been prohibited in the east and they wanted to introduce that style to the eastern miniaturists- mostly due to the desire of the kings.

The process of welcoming the new style, painting portraits and acknowledging the individuality wasn't that easy. Mullahs and conservative artists talked about the fact that having style is against the religion, because of your desire to be recognized, whereas only God is to be so. And that builds up the horror story of making a secret miniature book for a Turkish king, incorporating the new style and the artists' thoughts and individuality.

A few days ago, I was reading the architectural design theories and came across this paragraph enumerating the human desires:  

• Desire for preservation
• Desire for Recognition: this is a desire for prestige, pride and ambition, social status, physical supremacy, intellectual attainment, personal or civic, result in struggle for position.
• Desire for response
• Desire for self-expression: this is the urge of man to assert himself as an individual. To do things in his particular way (Salvan, 1999).

Religions and some ideologies have tried to go against some of the human desires and in cases the act of desiring itself. I don't want to make any statement of whether it has been right or wrong, but it has engaged my mind in a greater scale; Culture has appeared as a result of answering some of these desires and if they never had the chance to be nurtured, all the nations and countries should have been the same throughout the history. What other things would be eliminated as a result if we fight these basic human desires?  

Salvan, G. S. (1999). Architectural Theories of Design . Quezon City: JMC Press, Inc.

The Egg Warming Team!

The credit of  the "Person of the Year" in our house definitely goes to this yellow parakeet. These days, the little bird is spending all her time in that small nest just to keep her eggs warm. The other two, however, spend most of their time peeking at her; ofcourse when they aren't eating or flying around the cage for a change. We still don't know who the "proud to-be-daddy" is, and well, we may never know.