Sodade

Sodade, Cesaria Evora

A Kiss

Ena Fili (Ένα Φιλί), Haris Alexiou

"Η ζωή δανεική και μικρή μα στα χείλη σου μοιάζει μεγάλη."

This song belongs to a missing dance and many beautiful memories.

You will always be missed and loved.

Something Between Us

"Something About Us", Daft Punk

La Mer

La Mer, Chantal Chamberland.

Morning

The baby waves under the first lights of the sun. Nothing beside the bird chirps and waves... This is the calmness...

We were heading to Bozcaada with Turgay. 2012.

Patience

Are you still patient? From 2012.

Roads

From 2013, Tampa. A good memory with Mr. Tom!

Hudson River

When the beauty appears, I miss you. I see you. It was a gift, or maybe something touched us. ...or someone made a plan for us. I have found you in the silence, in the light, and in the rain, and you were the water. It is as though touching, and feeling of the existence of  the universe and feeling the being part of it.

There I didn't need to go anywhere. Time lost its arrow. All moments became the one moment. There was no discontinuity between the memories.

Book

"What an astonishing thing a book is.
It’s a flat object, made from a tree with flexible parts, on which are
imprinted lots of funny dark squiggles.
But one glance at it and you are inside the mind of another person
maybe somebody dead for thousands of years.
Across the millennia, an author is speaking clearly and silently
inside your head. Directly to you.
Writing is perhaps the greatest of human inventions.
Binding together people who never knew each other. Citizens of
distant epochs.
Books break the shackles of time.
A book is proof that humans are capable of working magic."

Carl Sagan

Blue

"When I finally got down off the radiator and went out the hat-check room, I was crying and all. I don't know why, but I was. I guess it was because I was feeling so damn depressed and lonesome. Then, when I went to the check-room, I couldn't find my goddam check. The hat-check girl was very nice about it, though. She gave me my coat anyway. And my "Little Shirley Beans" record - I still had it with me and all. I gave her a buck for being so nice, but she wouldn't take it. She kept telling me to go home and go to bed. I sort of tried to make a date with her for when she got through working, but she wouldn't do it. She said she was old enough to be my mother and all. I showed her my goddam gray hair and told her I was forty-two - I was only horsing around, naturally. She was nice, though. I showed her goddam red hunting hat, and she liked it. She made me put it on before I went out, because my hair was still pretty wet. She was all right.

I didn't feel too drunk anymore when I went outside, but it was getting very cold out again, and my teeth started chattering like hell. I couldn't make them stop. I walked over to Madison Avenue and started to wait around over to Madison Avenue and started to wait around for a bus because I didn't realize it have hardly any money left and I had to start economizing on cabs and all. But I didn't feel like getting on a damn bus. And besides, I didn't even know where I was supposed to go. So what I did, I started walking over to the park. I figured I'd go by that little lake and see what the hell the ducks were doing, see if they were around or not. I still didn't know if they were around or not. It wasn't far over to the park, and I didn't have anyplace else special to go to - I didn't even know when I was going to sleep yet - so I went. I wasn't tired or anything. I just felt blue as hell."

The Catcher in the Rye, J.D. Salinger.

Allie

"When the weather's nice, my parents go out quite frequently and stick a bunch of flower on old Allie's grave. I went with them a couple of times, but I cut it out. In the first place, I certainly don't enjoy seeing him in that crazy cemetery. Surrounded by dead guys and tombstones and all. It wasn't too bad when the sun was out, but twice - twice - we were there when it started to rain. It was awful. It rained on his lousy tombstone, and it rained on the grass on his stomach. It rained all over the place. All the visitors could get in their cars and turn on their radios and all and then go someplace nice for dinner - everybody except Allie. I couldn't stand it. I know it's only his body and all that's in the cemetery and his soul's in Heaven and all that crap, but I couldn't stand it anyway. I just wish he wasn't there. You didn't know him. If you'd know him, you'd know what I mean, It's not too bad when the sun's out, but the sun only comes out when it feels like coming out."

The Catcher in the Rye, J.D. Salinger.

Magic

The red umbrella was the magic that calmed the time one day. And the rain... And the water. One day, it will rain again and we will look at how the rain touches the water again. There, the grey will be the most beautiful grey as though it knows the umbrella is red. We will be the frame. We will be the time.

Old Jane

"I don't want you to get the idea she was a goddam icicle or something, just because we never necked or horsed around much. She wasn't. I held hands with her all the time, for instance. That doesn't sound like much, I realize, but she was terrific to hold hands with. Most girls if you hold hands with them, their goddam hand dies on you, or else they think have to keep moving their hand all the time, as if they were afraid they'd bore you or something, Jane was different. We'd get into a goddam movie or something, and right away we'd start holding hands, and we wouldn't quit till the movie was over. And without changing the position or making a big deal out of it. You never even worried, with Jane, whether your hand was sweaty or not. All you knew was, you were happy. You really were.

One other thing I just thought of. One time, in this movie, Jane did something just about knocked me out. The newsreel was on or something, and all of a sudden I felt this hand on the back of my neck, and it was Jane's. It was a funny thing to do. I mean she was quite young and all, and most girls if you see them putting their hand on the back of somebody's neck, they're around twenty-five or thirty and usually they're doing it to their husband or their little kid - I do it to my kid sister Phoebe once in a while, for instance. But if a girl's quite young and all and she does it, it's so pretty it just about kills you.

Anyway, that's what I was thinking about while I sat in that vomity-looking chair in the lobby."

The Catcher in the Rye, J.D. Salinger.

Cold

It shows -18 Celsius in the morning!

Farewell

The sunflower looked at the blue pale sky and the continuity of the infinite colors. The sky was intimate. The sky was home.

The day part of the sky was the joy. When the sun rises, her infinitely long shadow melts and the sun gets it back from the deepness of night minute by minute. Because the sun knew how to descend upon the night. The sunflower thought its silky touch. The first kiss in the mornings. The glimpse of the beginning and hope. Because the sun knew how to touch. There were days without the sun, of course, but the sun was always somewhere out there shining and waiting. The sunflower knew it. When the sun was leaving the earth and when the spirits of the colors lose their bodies, her shadow was growing at a distance minute by minute, finally, her shadow was being lost in the night, again. The sunset was the practice of farewells.

The sky was forgetful when the sun went down. He was not thinking of the sunflower anymore. He was captivated by the charm of the sparkles, the beauty of the universe; thousands and thousands of the stars. In those times, the sky was dark; the sunflower was lying to herself "every star in the night was indeed the piece of the sun... All the sparks were the thousands of heartbeats of the sun that touches her in the day." This was a lie that warms her in the cold night.

Day or night, the sky was the meaning to the sunflower. The sun was the heart of it. One part of the sky was joy like a kid and one part of it was silent and cold.

Today, it was her last day under the blue sky. When she has gone, when she was not here, there will be others looking at the same sky. They will be touched by the same magic and with the same love, she thought.

Today, it was a farewell.

Anatole France

"All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter another."

Anatole France,

---
Thank you Laura!

Iki Insan Bir Hiyaye

"Iki insan ayni evde yasadigi zaman, birbirlerini her gun gorur ve dahasi, birbirlerini sever, gunluk konusmalari ikisinin bellegine bir duzen verir: Sessiz ve bilincdisi bir kabullenisle, hayatlarindan genis kesimleri unutusun icinde birakir ve haklarinda ayni hikayeyi anlattiklari bir kac olayi konusur da konusurlar; hikaye dallar arasinda esen hafif bir ruzgar gibi, baslarinin ustunde mirildanip durarak, onlara birlikte yasadiklarini hatirlatirlar."

Milan Kundera, "Bilmemek"

Bellek

"Yillar sonra tekrar gorusen iki insanin heyacanini hayal ediyorum. Bir zamanlar sik sik gorusmuslerdir ve bu yuzden de, ayni yasanmislikla, ayni anilarla bagli olduklarini dusunurler. Ayni anilar mi? Yanlis anlamalar burada baslar: Anilar ayni degildir, ikiside gecmisten iki ya da uc durum hatirlamaktadirlar, ama herkesinki kendinedir; anilari birbirine benzemez, birbiriyle ortusmez; hatta, nicel olarak bile birbirleriyle kiyaslanamazlar; biri oteki hakkinda, onun kendi hakkinda hatirladigindan cok daha fazla sey hatirlar; once, bellegin kapasitesinin bir bireyden otekine farklilik gostermesi (bu da her biri icin kabul edilebilir bir aciklama olurdu) yuzunden, ama ayni zamanda (ve bunu kabul etmek daha zordur), birbirleri icin ayni derecede onem tasimamalari yuzunden. Irena, Josef'i havalaninda gordugu zaman, gecmisteki maceralarinin her ayrintisini hatirlamisti; Josef hicbir sey hatirlamiyordu. Daha ilk saniyeden itibaren karsilasmalari haksiz ve isyan ettirici bir esitsizlik uzerine kurulmustu."

Milan Kundera, "Bilmemek"

Venice

Seaford

From the blizzard in 2016.

There is only snow at one side of my car because of the wind.

Paradise Falls

From the movie Up. Carl and Ellie's dream.

It is a dream that connects two people no matter what. It is a silent feeling that gives both happiness and grieve; a point in time; a point in time that may never come true.

I realized how beautiful this part of the movie later. There is a guitar, binocular, and Carl and Ellie's wedding photo, and of course their dream and knowing how they paint the frame for their kid. The guitar is the joy, the binocular is the curiosity, the wedding photo is the support, and the frame is the dream, and they are together for years. Isn't it so true as though it is love?

Simdiki Zaman

"Ardimiza baktigimizda zaman daha genistir, bizi geri donmeye cagiran ses daha karsi konulmazdir. Bu deyiste keskin bir hava var, ama yanlis. Insanlar yaslanir, sonu yaklasir, her an gitgide kiymetlenir ve anilarla kaybedecek zaman yoktur. Nostaljinin matematiksel celiskisini anlamak gerekir; ilkgenclikte, yasanan hayatin hacmi tamamen anlamsizken nostalji en guclu noktasindadir.

Josef'in lise ogrencisi oldugu zamanin sisleri arasinda bir genc kizin ciktigini goruyorum; upuzun ve ince, guzel, bakire ve huzunlu, cunku bir cocuktan ayrilmis. Bu onun ilk ask ayriligi, bu yuzden aci cekiyor, ama acisi, zamani kesfederken duydugu saskinliktan daha hafif; zamani daha once hic gormedigi goruyor.

O ana kadar zaman ona ilerleyen ve gelecegi yutan simdiki zaman goruntusu altinda kendni gostermistir; hizli gecmesinden (kotu bir sey beklediginde) korkuyor ya da yavas gecmesine (guzel bir sey beklediginde) isyan ediyordu. Bu kez, zaman ona bambaska gorunuyor: Artik gelecege el koyan muzaffer zaman simdiki zaman degil; yenilmis, esir alinmis, gecmis tarafindan suruklenmis simdiki zaman. Hayatindan kopan ve asla ulasilmamak uzere cekip giden bir genc adam goruyor. Hipnotize edilmiscesine, hayatinin uzaklasan bu parcasina bakmaktan baska bir sey gelmiyor elinden, sadece bakiyor ve aci cekiyor. Adina sila hasreti denilen tamamen yeni bir duygu hissediyor."

Milan Kundera, Bilmemek

Utangaç

"Dunyayi, tipki yirmi yil sonra mezarindan cikan bir olu nasil bulursa, oyle buldugu izlenimine kapildi: Olu, yurumeye unutan cekingen ayagiyla topraga dokunur: Yasadigi dunyayi cok zor tanir, ama durmadan hayatinin kalintilarina takilip tokezler: Pantolonunu, kravatini, onlari cok dogal olarak paylasan canlilarin bedenleri uzerinde gorur; her seyi gorur ve hic bir sey talep etmez: oluler utangactir."

Milan Kundera, Bilmemek

Noone Sits

NYC, Bryant Park

Truthful, Gentle, and Fearless

From Laura :)

Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki

"And in that moment, he was finally able to accept it all. In the deepest recesses of his soul, Tsukuru Tazaki understood. One heart is not connected to another through harmony alone. They are, instead, linked deeply through their wounds. Pain linked to pain, fragility to fragility. There is no silence without a cry of grief, no forgiveness without bloodshed, no acceptance without a passage through acute loss. That is what lies at the root of harmony."

Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage, H. Murakami

---

A point in time. A knife in time.