Saying something with a language other than the native one is strange. By thinking the meaning of each words, even somehow the place and effect of “the”, “of”, “a”; especially while expressing the feelings. Combination of the letters to form a word to replace with a Turkish word in my mind in order to explain the impression in my soul. Oh, my God! It is gorgeous, amazing, fantastic, I love that! Words, shadow of images. Language, digging my soul. Writing, being aware of my presence. “Language is a skin: I rub my language against the other. It is as if I had words instead of fingers, or fingers at the tip of my words. My language trembles with desire.” ― Roland Barthes, A Lover’s Discourse: Fragments
Ah! This time photo is not related with the words. Just I’m too bored to be in the office. Wish I were in vacation, on the road to somewhere. And I remember a cold winter night in Brugge in a hot summer day in Istanbul. That’s all.