Somewhere on Your Face

"My eye!"

Your grandmother once caressed you by saying this, with this ancient word of endearment derived from popular language. Did He make you the third eye so that you alone could see everything that He could or could not see? If this eye that he gave of himself is a visible legacy far beyond gaze, perception, light and witnessing, know that every time you point your camera at this or that like a pair of binoculars and adjust the near and far settings, you are sinking a shaft into it and letting it flow into you. You destroy the eye you inherited. Because you change things even as you look. Whatever the object you frame, you separate it from the world and find it in your own depiction, as if life consists of moments that you fixate, you try the timeless quality of the universe in your own work instead of seeing it in human faces first.

If you loved me at least once by calling me "my eye", if you placed my crystal object somewhere on your forehead, if we found many frames with you, if we preserved things without plundering, if we found the eternity of split-seconds without accusing or complimenting; How nice it would be if we flattened all the qualities, ordinary or special, rude or elegant, if we confessed that there was something we couldn't see wherever we looked and kept silent, and if we never boasted of this tight-lippedness. As long as you ask for my eye to be sacrificed for you.
(From the Promotional Bulletin)



Number of Pages: 160

Print Year: 2016


Language: Turkish
Publisher: Metis Publishing

First Edition Year: 2015

Number of Pages: 160

Language: Turkish