17
Ah bi ağzımı açsam neler çıkıcak ama, sesim kısıldı, topluca kıstık, götüm yemiyo. Yanlış olmaktan korkuyoum doğru kimse görmemişken, biraz kafam karışık. Açılıyo sesim bazı günler ama, tek tük, bi kaç kelime, bir hırıltı vardı gitti, arkadan duyuyorum ben cümlelere dönüştüklerini. Aman sus pus dediler. Aman aman, aman içimiz karardı, aman ağladık. Korkak insan sevmem hiç, kendimle aram iyi değil bu aralar bu yüzden. Ah başka biri de yaşadı bunları, ama daha iyi yazdı senden, kaç o zaman, yat yastığa kafanın içinden gelsin bu sesler, dönsün, dursun, tıpası çekilmiş küvet gibi aşağı doğru süzülsün, kimler neler yaşıyo, hepsi giderden aşağı. Korktuk. İnsan kendini tek başına sevemez, hurafe hepsi. Sevgi en az iki kişilik bi hareket, bazen daha büyük, çoklu, arttıkça arttığını düşünüyorum.
16
Our character standing in the middle of a field, with a lot of wind, there is a young palm tree that is trying to make it.
(Shouting)
Turkceye donucem sorry
- N’apiyorum bilmiyorum. Nerde oldugumu da. Acayip bi kayiplik. Arkamdaki palmiyenin anasi sikiliyo, aynen oyleyim ben su an. Iyi hissetmiyorum. Dun gunesliydi hava, kibristayiz, kumar sik sok ve bos, asil disi dogasi mis, yerler yemyesil deniz mis. Deniz diye eski sevgilim var, yeni eski oldu, Iki sene icinde ikinci ayrilik.
(Eski bi ev, tuvalet ayna karsisi)
Ne bok yicem bilmiyorum. Yaslandim ben. Sakallarimda birsuru gri var. Ah nasil guzelim ama, vucudumu seneler sonra ogrendim.
(ayna bacak focus)
Bacaklarim cok guzel. ve etek giymek istiyorum.
(walking shot kahve yaparken)
- Hayir denemedim degil, mesela beyaz yekaliydim 7 sene boyunca, bi tane girisimim oldu, giristik, olmadi.
(abrupt change)
Sikerler bunlarin hepsinin bak ben ne dicem, cay demlensin yeter. Ben kanseri cozmeye bes kala oluyim, biri yukaridan seslensin, bora, cay geliyo, gelsene, desin, ya ben kanseri cozerken, yukarida cok eglenirlerse? Ya ben kanseri cozene kadar ortaligin amina koyarlarsa, ya kanye gelirse, ya kanseri cozmeye gerek bile kalmazsa, ya hepimiz beraber kanser olursak?
(Cay karistiriryo esentepe balikci barinagi.)
Alismis kudurmustan beterdir. Kudur.
(Shouting)
Turkceye donucem sorry
- N’apiyorum bilmiyorum. Nerde oldugumu da. Acayip bi kayiplik. Arkamdaki palmiyenin anasi sikiliyo, aynen oyleyim ben su an. Iyi hissetmiyorum. Dun gunesliydi hava, kibristayiz, kumar sik sok ve bos, asil disi dogasi mis, yerler yemyesil deniz mis. Deniz diye eski sevgilim var, yeni eski oldu, Iki sene icinde ikinci ayrilik.
(Eski bi ev, tuvalet ayna karsisi)
Ne bok yicem bilmiyorum. Yaslandim ben. Sakallarimda birsuru gri var. Ah nasil guzelim ama, vucudumu seneler sonra ogrendim.
(ayna bacak focus)
Bacaklarim cok guzel. ve etek giymek istiyorum.
(walking shot kahve yaparken)
- Hayir denemedim degil, mesela beyaz yekaliydim 7 sene boyunca, bi tane girisimim oldu, giristik, olmadi.
(abrupt change)
Sikerler bunlarin hepsinin bak ben ne dicem, cay demlensin yeter. Ben kanseri cozmeye bes kala oluyim, biri yukaridan seslensin, bora, cay geliyo, gelsene, desin, ya ben kanseri cozerken, yukarida cok eglenirlerse? Ya ben kanseri cozene kadar ortaligin amina koyarlarsa, ya kanye gelirse, ya kanseri cozmeye gerek bile kalmazsa, ya hepimiz beraber kanser olursak?
(Cay karistiriryo esentepe balikci barinagi.)
Alismis kudurmustan beterdir. Kudur.
15
Dream dream dream, something, something about you, I'm talking about me, keep looking at the mirror and you'll see. "If I'm me because you are you, and you are you cause I'm me, then you're not you and I'm not me." There is some rainbow inside somewhere, something that is good, do you know what that thing is? It's all a turn, a turnaround, a search, an effort, it's not cool, I don't give a fuck about cool. If I could just meet me halfway I'd be okay. A bit more, If I met me. I'll come out when the time is right, but can't really tell when that will be. Maybe now, I was thinking, maybe now is a good time, like right now. Not in 5 or 6 days but now, I need a large canvas and a brush, and paint. I'm going to paint a house, a world, I'm going to paint a flower, I'm going to paint a horse, can you paint air? I'm going to do it, I will do it without effort, without even being there, I will paint while walking in a street at night, in a different city, I will paint in my head, a blue flower, almost neon, pretty baby blue. I will keep walking, put my head somewhere to rest, I will draw an orange red cloud. I will look at someone, they will have hazel green eyes, I'm not going to paint those, I wil just look, but she has pale pink skin, I'm going to paint that. This way of looking?
Interesting, I don't know where or when I'll meet me.
Interesting, I don't know where or when I'll meet me.
14
Sat on the edge, bare feet, looking at the mirror, some sound of up feeling synth.
- Onwards, forwards.
- Heartbroken still?
- Yes.
(looks forward, feet dangling)
- But it's not that, I'm leaving that in, in a nice corner of my heart. I like the rest of my heart too. I'm tired of just dealing with that corner, and honestly I don't care anymore. I think I'm okay, or getting better, I started feeling the rest.
- Sounds good... I put my face in the pond this morning.
- Yeah? Good. What was it like?
- Super fresh, looked at the fish.
- (laughing) Onwards, forward.
Drums, symbols, the bass going on, final soundcheck.
- They are about to start I guess.
- Yep, we go?
- Yeah let's go.
They get up, some light in the eyes, not naive, coming from some profound experience. Not babies, not old, something in between, they still have the energy.
- It's you it's you it's you, not the inner child or anything like that.... It's you, that's trying to come out.
- I believe you.
- Look, I cut an onion in half in the evening, and again in half, I used the quarter, and put the rest in the fridge. I opened the fridge at night, after the concert and the bar, half tomato, some mint, half a lemon, but I only smelled the onion, but I saw it all, it felt like freshness, like healthy, homemade food.
Someone that shows me something interesting, someone that is not scared of doing things.
- Onwards, forwards.
- Heartbroken still?
- Yes.
(looks forward, feet dangling)
- But it's not that, I'm leaving that in, in a nice corner of my heart. I like the rest of my heart too. I'm tired of just dealing with that corner, and honestly I don't care anymore. I think I'm okay, or getting better, I started feeling the rest.
- Sounds good... I put my face in the pond this morning.
- Yeah? Good. What was it like?
- Super fresh, looked at the fish.
- (laughing) Onwards, forward.
Drums, symbols, the bass going on, final soundcheck.
- They are about to start I guess.
- Yep, we go?
- Yeah let's go.
They get up, some light in the eyes, not naive, coming from some profound experience. Not babies, not old, something in between, they still have the energy.
- It's you it's you it's you, not the inner child or anything like that.... It's you, that's trying to come out.
- I believe you.
- Look, I cut an onion in half in the evening, and again in half, I used the quarter, and put the rest in the fridge. I opened the fridge at night, after the concert and the bar, half tomato, some mint, half a lemon, but I only smelled the onion, but I saw it all, it felt like freshness, like healthy, homemade food.
Someone that shows me something interesting, someone that is not scared of doing things.
12
”Just want to be happy” B -Side
”Just want to be happy” B -Side
Unbelievable. I sat down and levitated for a second, in imagination, I referred to Wes Anderson’s story of Henry Sugar, I did a little improv scene, mimicking what I heard yesterday. I write too complicated, my mind is incredible scattered, and I have no interest in pulling it together, interest and the compulsion is two different things. I do have the compulsion, because this scatter is unnerving, uncomfortable, I want it to stop, but feels like it won’t. The idea that I need to enjoy the experience is also unnerving sometimes, although I think it might be true.
So here we are, I’m writing and having a catharsis moment, with no intentions, “you’ve forgotton to do everything else, might as well paint the truck” is the sentence that is running in my head. Maybe this is what happens to travellers, with each place and object and space and people and food you leave behind, you leave something there. Sometimes I look over the world and see pieces of me everywhere, and sometimes I look inside and see pieces of the world in me. I feel like it’s too much to handle, but I know it’s an excuse, and anything comes your way is to be embraced and danced with. At least in theory, in practice, I’m homesick to a million things, over the course of a week, I get upset I can’t have different local breakfasts, something I had in Columbia, another day something from Cyprus, I try to imitate sometimes, but it’s not the same, local is local, and I’m not there.
I write the title of the texts before I start them, and don’t know how I do it, but I have the tendency to loop back at the and and somehow finish over there, I really don’t intend, but I do, one way or another, this might be due to my compulsion to complete tasks, or my guilt that I’m not doing so.
I’m realising so much about myself everyday, and about people, every day is filled with revelations I don’t know what to do with. I don’t think the revelations are that profound, after all I have many, and their importance are fading.
“What do you feel like doing?” my friend asked me. Honestly I have no idea, I just know I need something that is functional, and stable for now, somewhere where I belong, and don’t have to make massive changes to my entire existence. I just want to be happy. (see the loop back)
So here we are, I’m writing and having a catharsis moment, with no intentions, “you’ve forgotton to do everything else, might as well paint the truck” is the sentence that is running in my head. Maybe this is what happens to travellers, with each place and object and space and people and food you leave behind, you leave something there. Sometimes I look over the world and see pieces of me everywhere, and sometimes I look inside and see pieces of the world in me. I feel like it’s too much to handle, but I know it’s an excuse, and anything comes your way is to be embraced and danced with. At least in theory, in practice, I’m homesick to a million things, over the course of a week, I get upset I can’t have different local breakfasts, something I had in Columbia, another day something from Cyprus, I try to imitate sometimes, but it’s not the same, local is local, and I’m not there.
I write the title of the texts before I start them, and don’t know how I do it, but I have the tendency to loop back at the and and somehow finish over there, I really don’t intend, but I do, one way or another, this might be due to my compulsion to complete tasks, or my guilt that I’m not doing so.
I’m realising so much about myself everyday, and about people, every day is filled with revelations I don’t know what to do with. I don’t think the revelations are that profound, after all I have many, and their importance are fading.
“What do you feel like doing?” my friend asked me. Honestly I have no idea, I just know I need something that is functional, and stable for now, somewhere where I belong, and don’t have to make massive changes to my entire existence. I just want to be happy. (see the loop back)
10
The house
The house
- Welcome home, it’s nice to see you. How are you? You look good.
(with a big smile, some genuine love in the eyes, touching my arm.)
And a cozy hug now. Notice the flowers in the corner, the day is nice, sunny, but not hot, cardigan weather, light jacket, shirt over t-shirt climate. The house smells of couple of things; a carrot cake, some sharp mens parfume (scent of clove), some citric smell, like fresh squeezed lime, and some wood. Merged with some fresh autumn air, nostrils widen, I take a deep breath, it’s still slightly chilly inside but not cold, we walk around the fireplace.
- Do you remember this? The last time you came we weren’t sure if the chain was too punk, or too out of place. We thought maybe the chair should be more humanised to carry the chain, maybe more organic, Marion made a model, with some feminine forms, and then it stopped being a chair, it was too much of a thing. Then, one day we were exhausted and just sitting on the sofa, I was petting Ada’s ear, and this came to my mind.
- I like it. It works beautifully. — Where is Ada?
(She smiled at my comment happily)
- She is out with friends. She should be back in a bit.
- I missed her so much.
She stopped for a second, realising I’m here, her eyes filled with joy, we looked at eachother and hugged.
The entrance to the studio always had the same air, it was humid, but fresh, some plaster casts for various sculptures and more utilitarian ceramics, and then it was seperated by some plastic film, the other side is for wood things. I imagined the smell of wood resin, some exotic dark wood, wood dust on the floor, we crossed over, it was exactly as I imagined, but there was a sculpture I didn’t expect on the table in the middle.
- Ruben is coming tonight?
- They are already here, we’ll go say hi in a minute.
I met Ruben in an island, we were neighbors, he was working in a farm and smoking weed every possible second, generally in front of my door. He would listen to everything, for hours, looking for new music. After I left I heard they got famous in the island, I didn’t know he played, watched a concert of them online, they play raggea mixed with jazz-funk, but with so much energy and rawness, farmer rockstar energy, he yells things in between the songs, but also polished, comes with practice I think. They are playing tonight.
There is a bench at the corner of the studio, a very old beaten down work bench, on it there is a kettle, couple of empty cups, a jar of instant coffee, some brushes in the water, a sketchbook, some crackers. Above it was a photo I took in Lisbon, framed. I gifted it to them.
- Maria, I realised the cities next to the sea, drain into the sea. I mean, the buildings, the streets, the people and the views. Everything bends down towards the sea.
We had a silence. I didn’t break eye contact, it took Maria couple of seconds to adjust to the change in conversation. She looked at the photo.
excitedly;
- I see it! Do you want some coffee? I’m going to make some.
(unfinished)
(with a big smile, some genuine love in the eyes, touching my arm.)
And a cozy hug now. Notice the flowers in the corner, the day is nice, sunny, but not hot, cardigan weather, light jacket, shirt over t-shirt climate. The house smells of couple of things; a carrot cake, some sharp mens parfume (scent of clove), some citric smell, like fresh squeezed lime, and some wood. Merged with some fresh autumn air, nostrils widen, I take a deep breath, it’s still slightly chilly inside but not cold, we walk around the fireplace.
- Do you remember this? The last time you came we weren’t sure if the chain was too punk, or too out of place. We thought maybe the chair should be more humanised to carry the chain, maybe more organic, Marion made a model, with some feminine forms, and then it stopped being a chair, it was too much of a thing. Then, one day we were exhausted and just sitting on the sofa, I was petting Ada’s ear, and this came to my mind.
- I like it. It works beautifully. — Where is Ada?
(She smiled at my comment happily)
- She is out with friends. She should be back in a bit.
- I missed her so much.
She stopped for a second, realising I’m here, her eyes filled with joy, we looked at eachother and hugged.
The entrance to the studio always had the same air, it was humid, but fresh, some plaster casts for various sculptures and more utilitarian ceramics, and then it was seperated by some plastic film, the other side is for wood things. I imagined the smell of wood resin, some exotic dark wood, wood dust on the floor, we crossed over, it was exactly as I imagined, but there was a sculpture I didn’t expect on the table in the middle.
- Ruben is coming tonight?
- They are already here, we’ll go say hi in a minute.
I met Ruben in an island, we were neighbors, he was working in a farm and smoking weed every possible second, generally in front of my door. He would listen to everything, for hours, looking for new music. After I left I heard they got famous in the island, I didn’t know he played, watched a concert of them online, they play raggea mixed with jazz-funk, but with so much energy and rawness, farmer rockstar energy, he yells things in between the songs, but also polished, comes with practice I think. They are playing tonight.
There is a bench at the corner of the studio, a very old beaten down work bench, on it there is a kettle, couple of empty cups, a jar of instant coffee, some brushes in the water, a sketchbook, some crackers. Above it was a photo I took in Lisbon, framed. I gifted it to them.
- Maria, I realised the cities next to the sea, drain into the sea. I mean, the buildings, the streets, the people and the views. Everything bends down towards the sea.
We had a silence. I didn’t break eye contact, it took Maria couple of seconds to adjust to the change in conversation. She looked at the photo.
excitedly;
- I see it! Do you want some coffee? I’m going to make some.
(unfinished)
9
MFÖ Enerji
MFÖ Enerji
Yazlar, mis gibi rakı kokusu, instagram darma duman etti hepimizi, sadece o mu emin olamıyorum, bi batı profesyönelliği, pragmatikliği doldu ortalık, yazlık yokmuş gibi, deniz kenarında aileler buluşuyodu, böyle anlattım bugün. Çıkma teklifi öncesi heyecan, ışıklar sanki efektli gibi flu oluyodu yazlık yerlerde, arka planda, akşamlar bıcır bıcır herkes esmer. Şu an öyle mi, dışardan öyle de, içeriden öyle mi hiçbir fikrim yok.
Moda bazen küçük küçük öyle hissettiriyo, bazen soğuk, evet kafeler, yabancılar vb. ama başka bişey var, yerlisi olanlarımız söyleniyo çok, bir andalık vardı modaya dair, alt kültür, sanat falan, o da mı yok, kiralar yükseldi diye mi, duygu samimiyet bu kadar mı hafif bişey, kirayla ters orantılı mı, sadece bi ölçü müydü, aptal olduğu için mi mutluydu herkes, ekonomistler akıllı ve mutsuz mu?
Nostalji olayına mı girdim, herşey daha güzeldi eskiden, ah o eskiler vb, emin değilim, Soho House'da takilinca, bizdeki gibi yakın arkadaşlarla bira, hoşlandığın birini tanıma tadı yok ama o kesin. Tamam başka bi vibe var, anlıyorum, heryerde bi vibe var, bence kişisel pazarlama ağırlıklı renk renk tüccarlık aslında bu vibe, benim aradığım ne? Bilinmezlik diyesim geliyo, çeşit, karışıklık, farklılık, heyecan, beni arar mı? nasıl biridir, biriyle tanışınca insta'dan emcüklüyoruz herşeyini. Nasıl biri olduğunu, tipini tarzını, nereye gider, ne yer. Üç foto varsa, o üç fotolu insanlardan diyoruz, hepsi iç güdüsel, sesli bişey yok. Heyecan da.
İnsta tamam bi kenara. Biz nasılız? Kira mı gerçekten, rekabet mi, yaratıcı yenilik görmüyorum aşırı, samimiyet yerlerde, akım kovalıyo birileri, rap, alt, indie ıvır zıvır. MFÖ enerji dedim bugün, içten, anda, bodrumlu falan, ama ucuz ve güzel, rahat diye oraya giden, insan, keyfinde, saçma bişey görünce söyleyen, aşık olan dümdüz. Duygusallaşan, ah nasıl özledim. Özlediğim arkadaşlarım var, herkes çok meşgul. Anlıyorum, karışık yeni dünya, herkes aynı zamanda yazar, evlat, lover, influencer, start-up çı yazar, socialite etc, ben de düşüyorum, tasvip etmiyorum. Sıfır, sikerim öyle işi açıkça. Nostalji mi bilmem ama özlüyorum, samimiyet ve insanlık, gençlik mi diyim, açık kapılar, bariyerler mi, oh be, aç be, aman kafası mı emin değilim.
Bi kuruluk var havada, benim hiç hoşuma gitmiyo, açıcam sağı solu. Ev yemeği yicem küçük lokantada, paramı saçma harcayıp eğlenicem arkadaşlara, yan masayla sohbet edicem, garsonla gırgırlıcam, abartmıcam olayları, yaşıcam, anason ve zeytinyağlı fasulye kokucak heryer mis. Sokakta tutamadim kendimi salsa yaptim bugun, bi abla gordu uzaktan, guldu bana, aradigim enerji.
Moda bazen küçük küçük öyle hissettiriyo, bazen soğuk, evet kafeler, yabancılar vb. ama başka bişey var, yerlisi olanlarımız söyleniyo çok, bir andalık vardı modaya dair, alt kültür, sanat falan, o da mı yok, kiralar yükseldi diye mi, duygu samimiyet bu kadar mı hafif bişey, kirayla ters orantılı mı, sadece bi ölçü müydü, aptal olduğu için mi mutluydu herkes, ekonomistler akıllı ve mutsuz mu?
Nostalji olayına mı girdim, herşey daha güzeldi eskiden, ah o eskiler vb, emin değilim, Soho House'da takilinca, bizdeki gibi yakın arkadaşlarla bira, hoşlandığın birini tanıma tadı yok ama o kesin. Tamam başka bi vibe var, anlıyorum, heryerde bi vibe var, bence kişisel pazarlama ağırlıklı renk renk tüccarlık aslında bu vibe, benim aradığım ne? Bilinmezlik diyesim geliyo, çeşit, karışıklık, farklılık, heyecan, beni arar mı? nasıl biridir, biriyle tanışınca insta'dan emcüklüyoruz herşeyini. Nasıl biri olduğunu, tipini tarzını, nereye gider, ne yer. Üç foto varsa, o üç fotolu insanlardan diyoruz, hepsi iç güdüsel, sesli bişey yok. Heyecan da.
İnsta tamam bi kenara. Biz nasılız? Kira mı gerçekten, rekabet mi, yaratıcı yenilik görmüyorum aşırı, samimiyet yerlerde, akım kovalıyo birileri, rap, alt, indie ıvır zıvır. MFÖ enerji dedim bugün, içten, anda, bodrumlu falan, ama ucuz ve güzel, rahat diye oraya giden, insan, keyfinde, saçma bişey görünce söyleyen, aşık olan dümdüz. Duygusallaşan, ah nasıl özledim. Özlediğim arkadaşlarım var, herkes çok meşgul. Anlıyorum, karışık yeni dünya, herkes aynı zamanda yazar, evlat, lover, influencer, start-up çı yazar, socialite etc, ben de düşüyorum, tasvip etmiyorum. Sıfır, sikerim öyle işi açıkça. Nostalji mi bilmem ama özlüyorum, samimiyet ve insanlık, gençlik mi diyim, açık kapılar, bariyerler mi, oh be, aç be, aman kafası mı emin değilim.
Bi kuruluk var havada, benim hiç hoşuma gitmiyo, açıcam sağı solu. Ev yemeği yicem küçük lokantada, paramı saçma harcayıp eğlenicem arkadaşlara, yan masayla sohbet edicem, garsonla gırgırlıcam, abartmıcam olayları, yaşıcam, anason ve zeytinyağlı fasulye kokucak heryer mis. Sokakta tutamadim kendimi salsa yaptim bugun, bi abla gordu uzaktan, guldu bana, aradigim enerji.