my footfalls are superfluous

I am listening to “My footfalls are superfluous” by Bichi. The first time I heard his music was in Urge, a Scandinavian short film, a couple of years ago. I have been watching it over and over again, thousands of times, the past three days… Too bad it’s not on youtube, because I really want you to see it; not only because it would make it easier for me to show you exactly how I have been feeling these days, but because it is a beautiful piece of art. The combination of Ulrik Wivel’s choreography, Tobias Wilner’s (Bichi) music and the dancers’ moves makes me feel so much that I have a hard time describing my feelings in words.

Like a briefcase we carry the story of our lives, searching for a someone to hand it over to.

On a closer look it becomes plain that my dreams are repeatedly trying to tell me something I find difficult to understand. I just don’t get it.

…and right now, at this moment, I would hand him this film if I could and say “Here you go, I cannot explain it, perhaps you will understand.”

My footfalls are superfluous. I need to say time-out.

‘just’ & ‘happy’ together, even the taste of the combination is good

A small dose of excitement has been itching me all day, like a feeling I cannot put my fingers on. My expectations are kind of blurry, I don’t know what I want…and then again; the only thing I see is the whirl of actions.Empty, but as colorful as I can become. I belong to another world today, a world I am not familiar with. There is something that makes me happy.

I don’t know the reason for my happiness, but who gives a shit as long as I am happy. Just happy.

‘Just’ & ‘happy’ together, even the taste of the combination is good.

the whirl of actions

“It seems like you are caught up in a whirl of actions because you don’t want to take a break to see how you feel.”

I stopped smiling, I stopped talking and for a second I could see the reflection of my reaction. I was empty. The whirl of actions has become the pattern of my life.

What is it that makes us run so fast? We start things over and over again, things that we want to finish, but somewhere in the path, we just stop, take a uturn and go the opposite way.

What is wrong with the picture we start to create?

Or maybe there isn’t anything wrong with it, perhaps we want to justify the escape so badly that we start believing in the things we make up?

I remember; somewhere during our conversation about movies, movies that make you think a lot, my silence appeared again.

I don’t understand what happened.

what can I say?

drinking my second cup of coffee // British indie band in the background // photoshopping my selfportraits // feeling guilty because of my exams // ….but what the hell, I am itching to write, itching to photoshop // the book is almost finished // one of the pages is green // one of my best friends and my “brother” turned 30 yesterday // my thoughts about age has changed a lot this year // I truly believe in the fact that age is just a number (yes, ElifY, I do) // I don’t know what to wear to his party tonight // one of the pages should be dark yellow // mmm…I want one more cup of coffee // I still wonder who “a friend” is // I am smoking Vogues again and I think of Ricky // I am listening to “thrill of the night” by Kudu – a really cool indie band from Brooklyn // …and I realize how much I miss Nublu // …and New York // I look forward to working on my web site when I finish my exams – www.ilkindemircan.com // I don’t know how to build a web site though, but I’ll figure it out, I think, I hope // I am still mad at the editorial group of 34 Mag, even though I admire them // I have to get going now…so…to be continued, I guess…

I am saying every day

“If I should be a Queen, tomorrow”

I’d do this way -

And so I deck, a little…

emily dickinson 

you shall above all things…

…be glad and young.

For if you’re young, whatever life you wear

it will become you; and if you are glad

whatever’s living will yourself become.

e.e. cummings

What we want to live by…

…is not necessarily an act of free will; some people find it hard to balance between the weight of feelings and thoughts, or to decide which one of them should weigh the most.

Let me put it this way; I have a supply of red jars with expectations from my past and now that I do not have any jars left I keep them wrapped in old newspapers in black and white. And the answer of all my questions and the reason for all my hesitations are at the end of the row with jars and wet newspapers floating on my river. My expectations are bruised with hesitations. I am dealing with the bruise marks.

Yes, I think it is too far to say that you manipulate your feelings the moment you express yourself through the spoken word. I would assert that you manipulate your spoken word instead of your feelings, because feelings are often a result of your subconscious and therefore the difficulty of expressing them is often a common fact.

The languages I speak do effect my interpretation with my own feelings and in a way or the other the appearance of my personality changes a bit when I speak the different languages, unconsciously they define the level of my exposure, I guess.

“a friend”…I wonder who you are.

My world is yellow today…

…like the autumn sunlight falling down through green, orange, brown, yellow and red leaves.

There is something in the air today…

…that calms me down and makes me a bit melancholic, like old movies in sepia, although I have never seen one when I come to think of it.

If I was a filmmaker I would make a movie in sepia today. My silence and my laughter would be the soundtrack and maybe you would hear the sound of my slow heartbeat and my dreams if you listened carefully. The characters of my movie would perform the dialogs like monologues, not listening to each other, but speaking to one another like someone who longs for affection and the one to call home. The home I am looking for lies within someone who can see the shades of my yellow, usually blue, world. And once in a while he would have to live in the shades of red with me. He wouldn’t mind. And I would live in all the shades of all of his colors, no matter where we are; in a village, in a town, in a big city, in a country far way as long as my home lies within him.

We are continually shaped by colors; the unexpected shades occur with regularity in our lives forcing us to deal with the feelings and thoughts we may try to push away.

I was wrong, my world turns out to be sepia today, not only yellow.

What comes first – feelings or thoughts?

The existence of inspiration which is operative at a given moment, but remains subconscious seems to be a common fact of my every day life. Until I say time-out and write it down or express my feelings and thoughts in another way, I get plagued by a feeling of unrest. This feels good most of the time, as I can feel it itching and pushing me towards the edge, where I will achieve accomplishment. Yet I know that life will give me its divine acclamation if I let myself fall off the cliff; I freeze, I run away and I often convince myself that I am better off without…whatever it is that I need.

Yes, what I need, not just what I want.

…and I wonder, when and how did I become this person?

My life is constantly influenced by subconscious feelings and thoughts.

But what comes first – feelings or thoughts?