The last Turkish Coffee
episode.1 / eye
“eye” is the first diagnostician of what is wanted to be saved, and the last portent of what is about to get lost; “losing” starts with keeping walking after catching your eyes with someone for a moment that you came across in the street, continues until you never catch the eyes of your dear…
And also there is the heaviness of “knowing that you will lose”; that can be followed…
Maybe, a few words would came out of your mount or maybe you would just stare
Can a life that is suggested represent existence?
Death; represents a natural end sometimes, sometimes a bargain and sometimes giving up on yourself
What can a knickknack that exists just like that offer at maximum?
For instance, could a few artificial yellow lemons that watched goings-on answer if I asked them; “the morning we drank coffee, while the sun was rising, is it darkness now?”
he used to arrange small gum pieces in a raw to the shelves beside the door of the long narrow hall that opened to living room… in the one after another shelves, the one at bottom was his play ground
he would stop “Wowow” at the second shelf from bottom; maybe what he was scared of should have been under his eyes…
Many of them pass
They leave their wrecks
That sugared the pill for all their lives
No one remembers them
And some are remembered by some and they stay till the end
There are voices, which you remember only
That remains in the discourses with the lost; “I don’t like these yellow grasses” she said, pointing under of the farther tree: “there are a lot of them in the graveyards…”
There are images that can only express “the meaning”…
“the lost” is already gone!.
episode.9 / machine
machine is a mechanic, it cannot think, it just saves.
The generated “image” forwards the message of its object,
Meaning is belong to the one who meant
episode.10 / inquiry and query
Would you be afraid if you were the only one to know you were the one to get lost?
When you try to hold on with the hope of existence, what do others think?
Whenever I think that day I rejected the last cigarette you offered, a pain shoots up in my chest…
Damn affectedness of being a “proper man…”
An awesome life!…
photos was taken with a pinhole lens
sometimes endeavour is also insufficient Θ
reading text in TR Θ