USF Entrance

USF Entrance by Murat.

Wanted

Taksim 2012 - "Red Kit Istanbul'da"

Brassaï

Madame Bijou in the Bar de la Lune, 1932

Fog, avenue de l'Observatoire, 1934

"Drawn by the beauty of evil, the magic of the lower depths, having taken pictures for my 'voyage' to the end of night' from the outside, I wanted to know what went on inside, behind the walls, behind the facades, in the wings: bars, dives, night clubs, one-night hotels, bordellos, opium dens. I was eager to penerate this other world, this fringe world, the secret, sinister world of mobsters, outcasts, toughts, pimps, whores, addicts, and sexual inverts."

"In the absence of a subject with which you are passionately involved, and without the excitement that drives you to grasp it and exhaust it, you may take some beautiful pictures, but not a photographic oeuvre."

Brassaï


Florida Museum of Photographic Arts.

Kolonya

Hatiliyorum da eskiden eve misafir geldiginde kolonya ikram edilirdi. Bir an uzak geldi :)

Poz Ver Batu

Motion

Taksim - Istanbul, 2010.

Storm in Tampa

Midye

2009 yilli yazi Assos taraflarinda bulmustum. Guzel bir kolye ucu olabilirdi.

Frigo - Bir Sinema Klasigi

Uskudar'da hala satan bir bakkal var :)

Susceptible Frequencies

Unutma Bu Tarihi

Do Not Touch

Besiktas Sahilinde Kitap Okumak

Bu siralar Besiktas motor iskelesinin yanindaki alana kitap okumaya gidiyorum. Gidegele burasi hakkinda ilginc tecrubelerim oldu. Ilk aklima gelenleri paylasayim;

1) Eger bir bankta oturmussam hic icki icmek yanima biri oturmadi. Icki ve kitap... olmaz hani :P. Belki de rahatsiz ederim diye dusunuluyordur.


2) Bayan veya cift gezen birileri varsa kesinlikle bu bankta oturmayi tercih ediyor. Erkek erkege gezenler su an kadar hic yanima oturmadi. Ama erkek olmam etkili! Bayan olsam rahat birakmazlar.


3) Greenpeace'ciler icin "aranan uye" sifatina kavusuyorsunuz. Ama... Size dogru gelen bir Greenpeace uyesi biri varsa, yaninizdaki ailenin babasi "ssst, kitap okuyor, sessiz ol!" diye sert bir hareketle arkadasi uzaklastirabiliyor! Ciddiyim. Ben boyle "Greenpeace'ci Savusturmasi" gormedim. Arkadas sesini bile cikaramadi. Ben bile ne oldugunu anlamadim :S Halkimiz kitap okuyani seviyor sanirim :)


4) Irice bir sokak kopegi "bu bankin alti golgelikmis, hava da sicak hani" diyerek bacaklariniz arasindan  hic umursamadan bankin altina girebiliyor. "Hop birader!" diyene kadar, bankin altina iki seksen uzanmis iki seksen boyutlarinda bir kopek olabiliyor! Kopeklerle aram iyi olmasa da, fena bir ikili olmadik.


5) Bir de Besiktas sahilinde kimse kitap okumuyor arkadas! 1.5 TL'ye seyyar cay ve hazir kahve servisi de var hani :) Hatta yaninizda oturan yasli bir kari-koca varsa cay bile ismarlayabiliyorlar.

The Crow(s)

"Ama daha sonra fark ettigim gibi bu goruntuler, aldigim hazzin ve mutlulugun nedeni degil, kiskirtici birer resmiydi yalnizca... Yillar sonra, ona neden bu kadar cok asik oldugumu anlamaya calisirken, yalniz sevismelerimizi degil, sevistigimiz odayi, cevreyi, siradan seyleri de hatilamaya calisirdim. Bazan arka bahcedeki iri kargalardan biri balkonun demirlerine konar, sessizce bizi seyrederdi. Cocuklugumda bizim balkonuna da konan kargalarin aynisyidi. Cocuklugumda annem "Hadi uyu, bak karga seni seyrediyor," der, bu da beni korkuturdu. Fusun'un da boyle korktugu bir karga varmis."

"Ask, Cesaret, Modernlik" - Masumuyet Muzesi, Orhan Pamuk

---

"The Boy Named Crow: Sometimes fate is like a small sandstorm that keeps changing directions. You change direction but the sandstorm chases you. You turn again, but the storm adjusts. Over and over you play this out, like some ominous dance with death just before dawn. Why? Because this storm isn't something that blew in from far away, something that has nothing to do with you. This storm is you. Something inside of you. So all you can do is give in to it, step right inside the storm, closing your eyes and plugging up your ears so the sand doesn't get in, and walk through it, step by step. There's no sun there, no moon, no direction, no sense of time. Just fine white sand swirling up into the sky like pulverized bones. That's the kind of sandstorm you need to imagine.

And you really will have to make it through that violent, metaphysical, symbolic storm. No matter how metaphysical or symbolic it might be, make no mistake about it: it will cut through flesh like a thousand razor blades. People will bleed there, and you will bleed too. Hot, red blood. You'll catch that blood in your hands, your own blood and the blood of others.

And once the storm is over you won't remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won't even be sure, in fact, whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm you won't be the same person who walked in. That's what this storm's all about.”

"Together you walk along the beach back to the library. You turn off the light in your room, draw the curtains, and without another word climb into bed and make love. Preety much the same sort of lovemaking as the night before. But with two differences. After sex, she starts to cry. That's one. She buries her face in the pillow and silently weeps. You don't know what to do. You gently lay a hand on her bare shoulder. You know you should say somtehing, but don't have any idea what. Words have all died in the hollow of time, piling up soundlessly at the dark bottom of a volcanic lake. And this time as she leaves you can hear the engine of her car. That's number two. She starts the engine, turn it off for a time, like she's thinking about something, then turns the key again and drives out of the parking lot. That blank, silent interval between leaves you sad, so terribly sad. Like fog from the sea, that blankness wends its way into your hearth and remains there for a long, long time. Finally it is a part of you.

She leaves behind a damp pillow, wet with her tears. You touch the warmth with your hand and watch the sky outside gradually lighten. Far away a crow caws. The Earth slowly keeps on turning. But beyond of any of those details of the real, there are dreams. And everyone's living in them."

"Nobody's going to help me. At least no one has up till now. So I have to make it on  my own. I have to get stronger - like a stay crow. That's why I gave myself the name Kafka. That's what Kafka means in Czech, you know-crow."

Kafka on the Shore, Haruki Murakami

---

"Winter.

Here is what I do on the first day of snowfall every year: I step out of the house early in the morning, still in my pajamas, hugging my arms against the chill. I find the driveway, my father's car, the walls, the threes, the rooftops, and the hills buried under a foot of snow. I smile. The sky is seamless, the snow so white my eyes burn. I shovel a handful of the fresh snow into mouth, listen to the muffled stillness broken only by the cawing of crows. I walk down the front steps, barefoot, and call for Hassa to come out and see."

From "The Kitten Runner", Khaled Hosseini

---

Cok eski bir tisort baskisinda olan karga resmi

Hikayeler

Uc gun dort gece Gaziantepteydim. Ne kadar cok renk ile karsilastim. Tanimadigim bir halkin icine dusmek ve kaybolmak oralarda. Herkesle ayni mesefede olmak. Keske anlatabilsem her birinin hikayesini. Insanlardir sehri sehri yapan ya. Iste bu sefer insanlari ziyaret etmekti guzel olan.


Elif Safak'in Firarperest'ini okuyunca ustune bir de Semspare'yi katinca ne de guzel oldu yollar. Diyor ki onemli olan hikayeler arsinlamaktir, kentleri, ulkeleri degil. Iste oyle idi. Keske her gezdigim yer bende boyle izler biraksa.

Faces from Gaziantep

Theater lessons in Aziz Bedros Church

Dove

A dove from Gaziantep

Sabut Fishes and Snakefishes from Halfeti, Firat River

Antep Fistigi, Halfeti

Faces from Sanliurfa

Passing from Birecik to Halfeti with a bus. 

I am the only one who does not know Kurdish. I think, not knowing any word from my neighborhood's language is a weakness.

Mehmet Ali, Sanliurfa

Photos by Mehmet Ali :)

Boat Trip on Firat River, 

Bir kentte yabanci oldugunu ilk fark eden hep cocuklar oluyor.

Birecik

Scenes of Firat River from Birecik,

Kelaynak Uretme Ciftligi

Things

Necklace, Medusa Cam Esyalar Muzesi

Roman time sexual objects, Medusa Cam Esyalar Muzesi

Shoes from Gaziantep. I like the exhibitions of the shoes.

Lawrence's Bicycle, Hasan Suzer Ethnography Museum, Gaziantep

Bazaar, Gaziantep