I'm sitting here with my cat..

all day long periodically we make happy each other, touching, embracing, hugging, kissing..

I'm thinking about all the past players of my life.

You do not know who or what you are going to come across. So you might not want to forget the names, faces or places.. and might want to keep track of it.

But usually you remember those names or events at weird times and places.. at least that's what happens to me. 

All those past scenes are popping up everywhere I look at and usually I see my nightmares wherever I turn my eyes at. 

Many images are wandering around in my head's twisted paths..

and I can not know which I belong to.

I'm a dreamer.. I have always dreamt of places that are far away, fantastical.. I have imagined living different lives. I keep writing journals for a long time and sometimes stories most of them have not written down. I build up conversations that have no sound at all. 

So why not create images of these.. For this reason I have begun with the exact beginning. I have returned to my past, my childhood, my history. The places I have been and all the imaginary places I have longed to be.

All those small rooms and bars I have spent years and waited for the dreams come through/true..

I have always mentioned that having no money is the only thing that holds me. And if I had enough money I would be at the other side of the world. Anytime and anywhere..

I still do not have money, but sometimes I get really lucky.

I have just counted, I have changed 13 addresses in the last 14 years.. Two of them were number 13 and one was 213 :) 

Mosquito Net.. 'Cibinlik' in Turkish :)

There are many funny and weird things about my birth.

I remember how I wanted to have a bed with a mosquito net when I was a little girl. I do not know why I was so fascinated about it, but I remember regularly asking about one. 

Then years later I've learned about the events that had taken place at my

birth day. I had seen the photo album of myself being welcomed at the private

clinic that they had given my parents after the birth. My parents holding me and

the doctor with the nurses around the bed holding wine glasses.. Despite their drinking 

me with a red face. 

However their celebration lasted not much, the story is that my father had come to the

clinic to take us to home with our car and inside in it a baby bed with a mosquito net. 

But when they went out they had seen that the car was stolen and so my bed with

the mosquito net which I could never have and even seen. And the car was never to be found. 

As if it was not enough years later I think it was around 1980 something I remember

seeing in the newspaper the article about a doctor who was arrested because of 

replacing and selling babies. A familiar face with a familiar name; my doctor.

But don't worry I've bought myself a mosquito net couple of years ago and a purple one :)

Friday I went to the New Museum to see Elizabeth Peyton show which I

wanted to go for so long, but at last I could find a time just a couple of days before the show ends.

Actually I won't talk about the show.. you should see it that's what I can say.

All I want to talk about is the weird things that's keep happening.. or the little surprises of life

which makes me smile when I think of (despite they might have made me cry at various times).

After the show in the bookstore.. or the museum store, whatever.. there was a book which surprised us. The guy who is with me was talking about his friends who are mentioned in the book especially the one on the cover and the ones that died.

And I was struck by seeing the name of a fan-zine.. and the guy who created it. How close we were..

and even I was the Izmit and Pelin was the Izmir correspondents of the fanzine for a couple of issues.

We were at highschool and he has just begun to university. He used to put my name or name me like "rose of Izmit", such names.. scattered here and there in between the lines or drawings with small fonts. Finding them in those earlier issues was pleasure..

And once he had sent me a G N' R tshirt knowing that's my favourite as a birthday gift or I'm not sure.. besides other millions of things sent between each other. . which I wore just a couple of times because one time I got so drunk, we were at Pelin's.. and I'd thrown out. Then being washed the prints of the tshirt also faded away.. I was so sad and so angry.

We even had plans of moving in together if I had gone to an university in Istanbul. But I had chosen Izmir.

The book doesn't mention his name at least his real name, but the other guy the co-creator /co-producer. It's funny we are here in a museum at the other side of the world looking at a book and the guy with me also had known him.

The world is small and I have so many little stories like this to tell.

(By the way the book was expensive so we could not buy it.)

Please check it out;

'An Interrupted History of Punk and Underground Resources in Turkey 1978-1999'

http://www.b-a-s.info/punk_en.html

the Beginnings..

I used to write a lot..I used to write short stories, long letters and have kept journals about random things for so long. But all were in my native language. But this time I'm going to try in English. Maybe it helps improving my English and to reach more people. I don't know why it is important, but I always wanted to reach people.. 

And honestly it was one of my friends' idea - me writing a blog - and it's a really good idea and exciting as well. But it took me a year to decide and here I am at last..

I'm going to write new things and old things and about new and old things. Just random thoughts and memories as I usually do. But I'm aware of that they won't be as powerful as I think 

they are in Turkish. I know I am not yet capable of playing with words like I do in Turkish. But

I'll try as much as I can. And maybe I add some Turkish texts that I've written in the past and maybe I'd try to translate them and.. I don't know maybe someone would help me or edit me..

but at least enjoy reading me.