The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde
“The moral of life of man forms part of the subject-matter of the artist, but the morality of art consists in the perfect use of an imperfect medium.
No artist desires to prove anything. Even things that are true can be proved.
No artist has ethical sympathies. An ethical sympathy in an artist is an unpardonable mannerism of style.”
shingirmingir & style
memories from Italy
if a friend of mine asks about some place in Rome I am now perfectly able to describe the streets in detail. I am glad I went back to recover my memories from last time.
We were looking forward to shop till we drop, to eat so much that our stomaches hurt and to party hard, of course, but we somehow ended up drinking beer and wine on stairs all over the city. We did our shopping, too, bargaining and all (what can I say? we are Turks), and we did eat, but not as much as we hoped to. In fact, and I am not kidding; all we ever talked about was finding a place to eat and drink. Very primitive, huh? Every time we ended up drinking beer and eating ice cream on an empty stomach. Who would have thought that we would have a hard time finding good food in Italy? I mean, I am too picky and almost a vegetarian, but even my friend who eats everything that is eatable (literally speaking) wasn’t happy with the food we got served. We ate a lot of bruschettas and bread dipped in olive oil and salt.
On our second night, after a long walk around the city wall (yes, the one that is clearly marked far away from the city center on the map), having the police stop the traffic for us – we were pretty lost on the highway, and picniccing with mozzarella, olives and beer on the top of the hill, we ended up in Trastevere which became our favorite spot, but hanging out with hundreds of tourists on the Spanish Steps listening to some Italian guy playing the guitar was amusing as well. Trastevere was touristy, too, but in a different way, as if the tourists were there to mingle with Italians instead of hanging out in their own groups, like they did on the Spanish Steps. Talking to strangers around the city was fun (you know I love strangers), even though they hit on us every single time. But I must to say; meeting all those pushy Italian guys and not to mention the hot weather made me miss Norwegian guys and Norway like I have never done before. What’s happened to me? I love to travel. Haha.
Coming to Tuscany, seeing the Tuscan landscape and breathing the fresh air (at least it felt so compared to Rome) was like heaven. After all the sightseeing in Rome we ended up just walking around Florence photographing everything. Or just walking around not doing anything particular. It felt good. It felt relieving.
weather in Norway
for the first time in my life I missed the cold weather in Norway when I was away.
guess what, it is about 30 degrees celsius.
trees of Tuscany
everything that is red
floats away
I listen to
the indie rockers
while smoking my cigarettes
smoke gets in
my eyes,
sheltering the
sight of the city
running away
from the crowd,
seeking the
trees of Tuscany,
I am amused
by the silence
mmm…Italy
- Where are you from?
- Turchia!
- Ahh…! Yavas yavas… Buyrun! Corba!
We feel like Scandinavian tourists in Turkey.
unanswered
Choose, my soul said
unexplained,
to the one who believes not in existence
of the soul.
Unanswered, she remains,
in the silence of diversity.
Here comes the sun,
when the dark sky fades and
summer rain
floats away.
Sipping her summer wine,
my soul
longs to write her own
letter of completeness
to the world.
Happiness awaits,
but moves along with summer breeze
and yet again,
unanswered she remains.
mmm…
everything smells happiness.
Let’s get our dreams unstuck
is one of my favorite quotes by Jean Cocteau.
I am off to Italy in a few days. I have not prepared anything though. I think I’m just gonna grab some of my summer dresses, my journal, my mac and my camera and…just go. We don’t have a place to stay in Florence, only a ticket, we do have a place to stay in Rome, but still not a ticket. I am sure we are gonna have the best of time in Italy this summer.
My love for Bertolucci’s Stealing Beauty, set in Italy, goes way back. Stealing Beauty has everything. The sweet excitement. Sorrow. Love. Art. Great characters. Great script. Colors. Amazing interior and exterior. The movie glows art in every way. I was fifteen when I watched it for the first time and I remember there was something familiar about Lucy that struck me. The way she acts among the others, the way she explores everything in silence, the way she sits in the window writing poems in the candlelight, the way she keeps her journal, the way her hair is – long and dark, the way she searches for a deeper meaning in her life…it all reminds me of myself in my teenage years and especially the summers I spent in Turkey.
Some place in the movie Lucy asks:
“What about falling in love?”.
Guillaume passing by says something in French, very passionately, and Niccolo, very hot and totally stoned, translates:
“There is no love, there is only proof of love.” Also a quote by Jean Cocteau.
I am going to get my dreams unstuck in Italy this summer.
