A City on Earth

My not-going-out-and-not-consuming-alcohol regime continues. As much as it can. Last night was Ulaş’s birthday therefore I had a big excuse to wave goodbye to the regime and say hello to a night out after almost a month. The celebrations kicked off with a few beers at Babylon Lounge, a few more at Babylon (”the concert hall next door” as Tunç kept saying all night in case we might have forgotten the multi-space structure of Babylon while on a diet) and a few more at… well, Little Otto, of course. The above images are from the Little Otto period. And what we are doing with Ulaş in the last two is a different story.

Happy birthday, Ulaş! Have a healthy and sexy year.

Tell me, who did this? OK. We are still in Istanbul, in the very centre indeed. This is the old Taksim Gezi Park. And this is the old fountain. Probably work of a foreign artist or urban objects designer or whatever you call people with such skills and profession. I’ve been trying to find the name of the person behind this beauty and googled it a couple of times without any successful results. And I must say, I’m a pro at googling. Instead of a name, I came across some people’s brilliant ideas and comments that this old fountain should better be replaced by a playground!!! Stop there. First of all there’s already a playground within the borders of the park. Plus, the world is overpopulated enough so we can stop thinking about children, their happiness and particularly, making new ones.  This planet doesn’t need your kid. And that’s a fact no matter what your sinister minister says about having a set of 3. Anyway, back to the main subject. I’m planning to promote the fountain on an international level. A feature in Wallpaper magazine, wide spread coverage in every single Istanbul tourist guide book, small size fountain key rings to be sold at souvenir shops etc. And then I have plans to have it included in the Seven Wonders of the World list. They are updating the list once in a while with votes, don’t they? If they do not agree to replace the fountain with the Great Wall of China or the Stonehenge, then they can change their title to Eight Wonders of the World. And I’m still wondering about the fountain’s designer.

This was pretty much what I saw from where I was sitting at home and translating an interview with a certain band manager this Sunday. Istanbul is covered with snow and looks very clean. I think, white suits her.

Can somebody, anyone who is reading this blog and residing elsewhere (other than Turkish soil), go out and check their local Alexander Wang-stocking store out to see if they still have a pair left of these leather shoes? They are called Ines Oxford. Otherwise I’ll keep this print out sticked on my shoes and pretend to be walking in his shoes. It will be quite impossible to walk that way but I’ll do my best. My shoe size is 40 in Europe, 10 in the US and 7 in the UK btw.

Since friends and family started openly complaining about me rarely updating this particular blog (actually, there’s only one person to bring the subject up, but still a complaint is a complaint and should be taken into consideration) tonight I made an attempt to add a brand new entry. However, due to lack of any note-worthy happenings recently in my life (I’ve become a victim of the home-office-home routine. Without any alcohol within my blood cells for more than 10 days. And (my) life can be very boring at such times), I couldn’t go any further than making an attempt. Then suddenly, I decided to write about curtains. My curtain-less life, to be more precise… I’ll be celebrating its 3rd anniversary this month. Life without curtains, which can be very similar to playing the leading role in a soap opera… Don’t think that I had the opportunity or any desire to star in one. One knows how it feels like to be in a soap opera through one’s watching experience.

The problem with my curtains, or rather the unbearable absence of them, is that I have a small house with big windows, an architectural fact that puts the curtain in a position to be the most dominant thing inside the four walls of my dwelling. Thus, I couldn’t make up my mind about which type, colour or any other aspect of fabric to go and here I am, right where I started 3 years ago, when I had the apartment repainted and redecorated with a totally new taste and threw away the blinds then covering the windows.

BUT… I have plans to visit a few drapery stores this weekend. So that finally my neighbours living in the opposite building can go back to their mediocre lives instead of keeping their eyes wide open to the soap opera called “me”. Not that my life is any superior than theirs… I just used the word “mediocre” to make it sound superior than theirs. Plus, I like the word “mediocre” in a sentence. As long as it is not used to define things about/related to me.

I’ll keep you posted about my curtain shopping experience. I’m sure, it will be fun. So, watch this space.

I spent every single night of the last week with the last romantic on earth. I mean, with this book by Martin Power about David Sylvian’s professional and private life… The book which I promised myself to read off not more than 2 chapters on a given night to extend the pleasure of getting to know my most favourite musician better through bedtime stories, was also a great source of insider information about the music industry in the past three decades and music making process in general. While things I already knew -such as Japan splitting up at the best of their times or a certain Nick Rhodes stealing David’s hair and (then) music style to start a band called Duran Duran- began to make more sense as the book progressed, I’m not going to deny that I’ve also had a few shocking (and I’m using the word mostly in the negative sense) moments on the way. David Sylvian may have long shaken hands with his troubled past and changed the way he made music to express the new “himself” as a result of spiritual growth, but still and obviously, he is more complicated than he sounds in his songs. You might understand what I’m talking about more clearly if you have the skills to listen to music with your heart and stomach alongside a pair of ears. David Sylvian is not an easy man. He never was. But that makes him even more sexier to me.

Hello mom, if you are reading this no worries, David is not wearing lipsticks anymore. But who am I talking to? You are so used to me fancying men with makeup, huh?

One last thing before I go:
Dear AU & EC, I promise not to put any more pressure on you to bring David Sylvian play live at your club. Don’t even bother to try. Because he won’t show up.

A tray is a shallow platform designed for carrying things_Wikipedia.

Wow, I would have never thought of explaining tray in such assemblage of strong words. Shallow? Platform? Designed? A tray is a tray and needs no description. You simply put things on it to carry those things and everyone knows that. What’s rather unknown is, I carry my tray to different places.

Hello, Otto! Drinks are on me tonight.

“Everything & Nothing Else” is everything to me at the moment. I just can’t stop thinking about it and how it will evolve in the near future (I’ve given myself 2-3 years time for the finishing line). It looks like a photo blog, but it is not. In fact, Everything & Nothing Else is a project in the form of a photo blog. I don’t enjoy calling it that way (project is a dreary word) but I’m afraid no better vocable is yet invented to describe the work going on in there. Anyway, if I’ve managed to arouse some kind of curiosity within you, you are free to take a look at the site by just adding .com to the title (and putting an “and” instead of the “&”). But let me have a word with you first; there’s no prize for guessing what I’m up to there. And if you somehow get it (come on, it is not that hard), please keep it to yourself in silence. Let the others, equipped with slow brains and less information about someone’s some things, have a few more clues as the “project” makes progress. Thank you!

This is our christmas tree at the office. The ugliest I’ve seen so far… But who cares? 
HAVE A GREAT YEAR!

Grey, being my fave colour in fashion terms, is the dominating, sombre tone of Istanbul today. Telling me to remain seated at home with The Cure’s Faith album looping on the stereo… But before that, I had to have a cup of coffee with a couple of friends at 5. Kat. (The above two images were taken during a cigarette break at the premises.) Btw, have you been to Mini Müzikhol? The night club which feels like home, located on the ground floor of the same building? They, of course, don’t have such breathtaking views on offer, but definitely a better audio system and deco style. Been there once and kind of liked it.

5. Kat is located at Soğancı Sk. No:7/5 Cihangir
Mini Müzikhol can be found at no:1.