“She broke up with Hao-hao, but he always tracked her down. Called her… Begged her to come back… Again and again. As if under a spell or hypnotized… She couldn’t escape. She always came back.” – Millenium Mambo 千禧曼波 (Hou Hsiao-Hsien 2001) This is the last of the nights I will spend here in…
Tag: travel
Postcards from Istanbul /9
“You are always my concern. Nothing has happened to me to make me suddenly think more intensely of you… you, beautiful things and gloomy things are spread over my fleeting days” – Ingeborg Bachmann to Paul Celan May 1949 (unreceived letter) Mosaics are works of art comprising thousands of broken pieces. They are perfect symbols…
Book Review: Am I There Yet? The Loop-de-Loop, Zigzagging Journey to Adulthood by Mari Andrew
Am I There Yet? The Loop-de-Loop, Zigzagging Journey to Adulthood by Mari Andrew My rating: 5 of 5 stars The best books find you when you need them most. I believe this. Like love, like a loss, like God, like faith, a song, a coin. Things find you when you’re not looking for them. I…
Postcards from Istanbul /8
“She was like a landscape you see from the train, and you want to stop just there.” – Graham Greene, ‘The Living Room” What a difference a smile makes. How it shifts landscapes and ruins the topography of the heart. And how it does and undoes the shoelaces of our reserve, our restraint, and…
Postcards from Istanbul /7
“You are a colander, sometimes losing things. Sometimes what keeps you alive is a mystery.” – Aracelis Girmay Another night, another room, in another hotel in a city so many thousands of miles away. In my life so often it occurs to me that the more I love, the further the object of my…
Postcards from Istanbul /6
“She inspired you, you loved her and sang of her; her task was done.” – Franz Liszt in a letter to Hector Berlioz, 1854 The give of a soft pear surrendering to my teeth. The burst of plum in my mouth; juice dribbling down my chin onto my helpless blue shirt. The tickle of…
Postcards from Istanbul /5
“Or give me back one shred from our hundreds of days – a forgotten word, or look – that I might lie here counting them, like sheep, waiting out the dark.” – Greg Johnson, Insomnia Dear, sweet one. Gratitude today for the precious few moments I received to see you. Your face that I…
Postcards from Istanbul /3
“When I feel like being with her I almost prefer not being with her So as not to have to leave her afterwards.” – Fernando Pessoa My precious one, Today my heart has been with only you. I miss you more. All this beauty I see fades before the way your face glows in my…
Postcards from Istanbul /2
“To write words I put a symbol in place of an absent sound. To write the words ‘I love you’ requires a further, analogous replacement, one that is much more painful in its implication. Your absence from the syntax of my life is not a fact to be changed by written words.” – Anne Carson…
Postcards from Istanbul /1
“What impels me to write you all the time? Before I can even turn around to look, from the unique destination, unique you understand me, unnameable and invisible, that bears your name and has no other face than your own, before I can even turn around for a question, at every moment the order to…
between desire and disaster 