When I encounter the word of knot or wish, it always brings me back to the house of Virgin Mary on the top of the hill in Kusadasi, Turkey. The endless knots on the boards left there, untied. There is a myth that a wish comes true if a person writes it down on a paper and ties a paper knot at Virgin Mary’s church and come back to untie it. And that spectacle of the uncountable number of the untied knots made my heart drop, very sad…humans… their wishes… their hopes… stuck to the wall.
Kusadasi… if I can travel again by myself, I will go there. I’ll take my time being there among the mystery of Amazons and the remnants of Romans… the sun, the sea, and the kind locals… I put some money in the donation box in the church, but I didn’t tie a knot there. I felt it was useless… hoping, hoping for something… and I shocked to watch them but couldn’t turn my head because there was something beautiful in there, the desperate longings being written down on a piece paper hoping for another visit to untie, to unravel their wishes.
I loved the olives and the anchovies when I was there. Some Spanish red wine would suit great. All coffee tasted terrible. But for a month, I will be fine without coffee.
A couple of years later after my trip, I saw the corpses on the beach of Kusadasi of Syrian refugees in the news. The boats they were fleeing turned over and the people on board drowned. Their bodies washed to the shore of the Mediterranean islands and beaches. Hardships and tragedies rob beauty of something… somewhere… or sometimes, the beauty of the backdrop intensifies the feel of tragedy.
Still, Kusadasi is one of the two places I want to visit and stay for a while… I can drive to Ithaki, Greece or take a trip to Tipasa, Algeria. I was behind a big DSLR camera on my first trip there. I didn’t want to engage with people I was with at that time. So hiding behind the lens was a safe place for me … I had my wall, my wall up to my nose… what did I wish then? What do I wish now?
Maybe, I have a knot on the wishing wall which I don’t believe, an invisible knot that my heart wrote something down in secret that I didn’t even know at that time what it was… maybe, I need to untie that on that hill which I didn’t believe the stay of the Virgin Mary either… or… I just want to see one more time the absurd human wishes, tied, tied, tied… waiting for the release… in vain… under the sun, under the breeze from the ocean that has the indescribably beautiful color of blue.
<October 7th, 2018>
“A poem must be a holiday of Mind. It can be nothing else.
One discards its poverty, its weaknesses, its everydayness.
One organizes all the possibilities of language.
The holiday over, nothing must remain. Ashes, trampled garlands.”
– Paul Valéry –
When I meet a shower, a lightning, a rainbow… and a vibrating poem… I know what it feels like… it doesn’t belong to the earth… feet off the ground… leave them there, just for a while, just for a little longer.
why did I choose the words?
that impossible tool for the expression that I’m striving for,
I could have expressed better in many other ways…
but, somehow, I cannot turn my back against my love affair with the words…
the unconquerable beauty of possibility, infinity condensed into black and white, exhilarating imagination and inescapable sadness…
nothing can intrigue me more than this in this world, or another, if there is one.
“I have always loved everything about you.
Even what I didn’t understand.
And I have always known that, at heart, I would have you no different.”
– in “The Misunderstanding”, Albert Camus –
no different, no difference.
“I grew my wings instantly because you said that.”
I dropped the mask.
I’ll sleep in when Venus wanders from evening to morning.
“ABANDON ALL HOPE YE WHO ENTER HERE.”
– Dante –
“Nothing to excess”
– inscription at Delphi –
“I would rather be whole than good.”
– Carl G. Jung –
My golden shadow having been cast upon … ,
I felt safe at a visceral level under trustful rays of the reflected golden glow…
two hawks, I heard a shriek,,, feeling like I’m in a Bergman’s film, so much light in black and white, so much emotion in distilled action, so much transferred in silence… deep, condensed… so much power enough to break the frozen, terrified,,, what will follow? doesn’t matter… live as a whole to an extreme… abandon hope, just be.
<September 15th, 2018>
“Moonlight drowns out all but the brightest stars.”
– J.R.R. Tolkien –
The gorgeous crescent moon, in and out of the clouds… this evening.
Toward the night, it rains… maybe I can’t see the moon now.
When an artist explains about the light and I watch her painting processing, a genuine interest buds at the bottom of my heart, just a few colors from the artist’s hands are enough to satisfy my thirst for the daily dose of beauty… When she says how the early evening light saturated on her way driving up here and how she enjoyed that moment, I don’t feel alone standing on the solitary road chasing the last light in the sky and the deepening colors around… progressing to the night, the dark, the ultimate light.
<September 13th, 2018>