the sourcerer: Christmas Turkey.

Wednesday, October 19, 2011

Christmas Turkey.

In between running around, changing the CTICC into an airport in Vienna, turning a farm building into an orphanage somewhere in deepest darkest Africa, miles of curtains and furniture and wind pumps and graveyards and and and... the lists continue into eternity and I dream of them at night. In between all of that, I dashed to the travel agent during lunch today and bought a ticket to Istanbul. Just like that!

There is a Turkish photographer/film director whom I admire greatly. It's not so common to find photos of Istanbul in Winter, but Nuri Bilge Ceylan has taken some beauties.

He won the award for best director in the 2008 Cannes Festival for his film Üç Maymun (Three Monkeys). At the end of his acceptance speech, he said: "I dedicate this award to my beautiful and lonely country, which I love passionately."

Simmering excitement.

6 comments:

Chris said...: ohhhhh!; October 19, 2011 at 6:19 PM
Marie said...: The best!!!!! Eeeeeeeeeeeeeh!; October 19, 2011 at 8:40 PM
Petro said...: Lily, dis die mooiste foto's. Sal Istanbul graag in die winter wil sien. Ek hoop jy ervaar Istanbul met jou hele hart.; October 19, 2011 at 10:26 PM
the sourcerer said...: indeed!; October 20, 2011 at 8:43 AM
Petro said...: Wonderlike foto's. Ek was al in baie plekke, maar Istanbul en sy mense bly by my. Jy moet dit met jou hele wese geniet.; October 20, 2011 at 10:03 AM
ckzero said...: Christmas Turkey! Brilliant.

Har har har! Jou pa se wit wat deurkom.

Bon voyage.; October 23, 2011 at 12:27 AM

Post a Comment

You could tend a garden at night, only at night, pouring dark water onto leaves, and into the earth, like pouring midnight onto midnight. You could hold your soil-stained hands up to the moon. The stars would gleam on the bottom of the shovel. It would smell the same as a daytime garden - it would smell green, violet, red, white. But come back, in daylight. Come back, to see the colours without closing your eyes.
- Sean Michaels. Accompaniment to the song "Immune" by LOW. Said the Gramophone

Nothing is original. Steal from anywhere that resonates with inspiration or fuels your imagination. Devour old films, new films, music, books, paintings, photographs, poems, dreams, random conversations, architecture, bridges, street signs, trees, clouds, bodies of water, light and shadows. Select only things to steal from that speak directly to your soul. If you do this, your work (and theft) will be authentic. Authenticity is invaluable; originality is non-existent. And don't bother concealing your thievery - celebrate it if you feel like it. In any case, always remember what Jean-Luc Godard said: "It's not where you take things from - it's where you take them to."
Jim Jarmusch (1953- )

You got very hungry when you did not eat enough in Paris because all the bakery shops had such good things in the windows and people ate outside at tables on the sidewalk so that you saw and smelled the food. When you had given up journalism and were writing nothing that anyone in America would buy, explaining at home that you were lunching out with someone, the best place to go was the Luxembourg gardens where you smelled and saw nothing to eat all the way from the Place de l'Observatoire to the rue de Vaugirard. There you could always go into the Luxembourg museum and all the paintings were sharpened and clearer and more beautiful if you were belly-empty, hollow-hungry. I learned to understand Cézanne much better and to see truly how he made landscapes when I was hungry. I used to wonder if he were hungry too when he painted; but I thought possibly it was only that he had forgotten to eat. It was one of those unsound but illuminating thoughts you have when you have been sleepless or hungry. Later I thought that Cézanne was probably hungry in a different way.
Ernest Hemingway (1899-1961) - from A Moveable Feast.