bridges

I want to write more again. Straight from the head. Whatever haunts me. Whatever excites me. Bridges — I could build them, the woman at the airport said.

Ben havalimanında bir kadınla tanıstım. Erkin taught me that sentence after we had the world’s best balık dürüm in Istanbul. He’s currently pursuing his master’s in tourism, speaks Persian, and works as a guide for Iranian tourists. His mother, he told me, taught him how to cook and clean — but not his two sisters, so they wouldn’t end up stuck at home, bound to the things they might have learned, as so many Turkish women do.

Anyway, back to the woman at the airport. I told her that I wanted to connect with other artists in Istanbul, to paint, exhibit, find inspiration, and nurture friendships there. That’s when she said that thing about bridges — how important they are.

I had a wonderful 14 days in Istanbul at the beginning of this year. I’m going to try to write it all down, to remember. The smile lingers on my face, just like the taste of fried mussels, the world’s best baklava, warm simit, tea, tea, tea still lingers in my synapses.

More soon. For now, back to the portfolio.