If Istanbul is the chubby, middle aged next door woman with large breasts, then -say- Paris is the photo-shopped beauty on the cover of Sports Illustrated - in a continuous state of narcissistic masturbation.
If there is no other woman in the world when you're making love, then you know you are in love and probably being loved - this way or another. And at some point, as irrational as it is, if the city you live in is the most beautiful city in the world to you; then you know you truly live in that city and that city, I assure you, is and will be breathing with you - wherever you are.
Picture from Ara Güler.
4 comments:
I started to think about how Istanbul feels to an Istanbullu woman, considering women are wiser and usually do not dream of "spotlessly beautiful men". :)
The counter image of your description reminds me of a chubby, bold, hairy, middle aged man next door, who probably keeps looking at your breast and legs with a sleazy smile.. Not as romantic as you described at all..
Maybe I would call it a bit macho, but very attractive guy that you can't fully trust but also are drawn into.. Who could love you passionately but also could beat you in times of desperation.. You always hope to turn him into a better man... Many women could fall into that trap but not all...
your comment reminded me about duman's "istanbul" song.
"this city lives with booze
this city smokes the weed
this city lives the day
this city loves every night
this city curses her man
this city beats his woman
this city sucks all our blood
this city is worth to die for
istanbul kisses your hands."
listen also to this song: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kIhcXzMLT2o
it is from a band named brazzaville. the song is called bosphorus.
..at least I wanna add:
"..istanbulu dinliyorum gözlerim kapali.."
"...For heaven only knows why one loves it so, how one sees it so, making it up, building it round one, tumbling it, creating it every moment afresh; but the veriest frumps, the most dejected of miseries sitting on doorsteps /---/ do the same: they love life. In people's eyes, in the swing, tramp and trudge; in the bellow and the uproar; the carriages, motor cars, omnibuses, vans, sandwich men shuffling and swinging; brass bands; barrel organs; in the triumh and in the jingle and the strange high singing of some aeroplane overhead was what she loved; life; London; this moment of June."
Virginia Woolf, "Mrs Dalloway".
Virginia Woolf loved London. As you love Istanbul.
Post a Comment