A Bit of Spontaneity

I have recently begun going through my old notebook and rereading what I wrote there. I am hoping to work some of this up and I may begin using this blog as a place to share some of what I'm working on.

This first one comes from last summer, when I was working with MCC and the Open Circle program. I am quite interested in Jack Kerouac's method of spontaneous prose and have tried my hand at to varying degrees of success. Essentially (and this is my understanding of it) it is a method of just writing down whatever you see and experience in that moment. Following wherever your mind leads. It is very much like improvising on an instrument. The idea is that you practice so that when something worthy of being recorded happens you will have the tools to do so. I do it mostly as a fun writing exercise, it is often really interesting to see what comes out. Here's a short piece I wrote on a lunch break:

I stopped and sat by a spot in the river where the water curls around some unseen object lodged in the river bed. It disrupts everything for a brief moment then the river continues on its way. Wind periodically blows through the trees, freeing the sun to shine in my eyes. I look down the river bank and wish that I could hike all the way along it. But I know that soon the brush will get thick or the edge too muddy. So I sit. The wind picks up and causes the water to wrinkle, catching the sun in a glittering display. I can just make out a drone of some kind. An unnatural sound. I'm saddened it took me this long to hear it. It's become too much a part of me.

I sat here to think, to clear my head, but it rarely works. I enjoy it while I'm here. The sun, the water, the wind. The smell of dying leaves and dirt. I sometimes feel like I have things figured out, out here. Suddenly everything comes into focus and the answers become clear. But I know that confusion and doubt are waiting for me back there. I guess this place works as a break more than anything. It's nice, peaceful and quite. I don't get any magical answers but I can maybe let my mind rest for a bit. Then I can come at things renewed. With the energy it takes to sort things out. I wonder how fast that current would take me if I just wadded in and let it drift me away?

If you can, everyday go sit by a river for a little while. And always crumble a bit of dirt in your hand while you do.

A Walking Tour

Yesterday was a good day. Not wanting to stay in another day I decided to go out on my own, take some time to see the sights. I have done this a few times already, but there is still so much I haven't seen. In fact I could likely walk for an entire year and not see everything this city has to offer. But this is no reason not to try. First I made my way to busy Istiklal Caddesi, which at one in the afternoon was not as busy as it usually is. I made my way down some steep streets and came to Galata Tower. Once a valuable defensive structure it now has a line of tourists waiting to pay 10 TL to view The Old City from what what was once a separate city altogether.

I snapped some shots of this and continued my way down the hill. Istanbul was originally built on seven hills, so one is always either walking downhill or uphill. It makes for a great workout, whether you want one or not. Soon I came to the Golden Horn, a long, narrow bay that separates the Old City from the rest of the European side of Istanbul. The Golden Horn is constantly moving, both with boat traffic and by its own unsettled waters. I walked through one of the many fish markets where you can buy that days catches or purchase delicious grilled fish, which is infinitely better than a street hotdog. I then crossed Galata bridge, itself crowded with fisherman. I am not sure if they are just catching for themselves or to sell to others. Regardless they are there everyday, rain or shine. Casting down twenty or so feet to the water below.

I had a vague idea of where I was trying to get to, so I decided to take some back streets. I quickly realized in this part of the city there really are no back streets. The Old City is a densely packed, business and tourist district and every street is filled with merchants selling whatever they can. Here are some of the oldest and most beautiful structures on the planet, and if you build it, they will come. Fortunately the incredible beauty and the magnitude of the history of this place transcends all attempts to make it cheap and sellable. This was the crown of the Ottoman Empire, one of the largest empires in history. And they made sure their city would astonish visitors.

After a while I came across the first of what I was searching for, a park that is beside Topkapi Palace. Topkapi was the traditional dwelling of the reigning Sultan. It is difficult to get a handle on its size as it is obscured by trees and the hill it sits on. The best view I have seen so far is from a ferry crossing over the Asian side. It is a complex that seems to hide many secrets, including the now famous harem. Which was traditionally the Sultans private chambers, although what went on their isn't so secret anymore. The park beside the Palace is beautiful, well kept and one of the very few green spaces I have seen so far. It was mostly empty, excepted for a few couples taking in the day on the many park benches littered around the park.

I made my way through the park to the other side and came face to face with the Sea of Marmara. In the distance where the mountains of what I think were the Princess Islands. The sea air was fresh and the road I was walking along didn't seem too busy, so I continued along it for a while. It turned out to be a long while, as I ended up circling the Palace walls and coming to the other side. I then turned back into the city and followed the signs to the two largest and most magnificent Mosques in the world, The Blue Mosque and the Aya Sofya. I did not realize how close they are to each other. These photos are taken from in between the two, I simply turned around to take them. They are marvels of architecture, the Sofya apparently as large as a domed ceiling can possibly be without collapsing in on itself. They stand there together, sisters in faith. The Blue Mosque is still a functioning mosque, holding prayers at the appropriate times, while the Sofya has been turned into a museum. It seems a shame, such a structure being reduced to a curiosity instead of a place of worship. I'll I do not know much of its history, something I hope to change soon. I understand it is complicated and bloody, and this all comes through while standing there. They are places raised to the heavens, built by broken backs and the faith of an empire. These places gave hope to the poor in a god that did indeed deserve reverence. The are beautiful and epic in a way that North America does not understand of its constructed places. They are conflicted places, owing their existence equally to faith and strife.

After spending some time at the Mosques I made my way home, moving from the sprawling grandeur of these places to my area, which is poor and crammed together. People living on people living on piles of garbage and the cats feeding off of it. I like it here, watching the people move about their lives. They do not have money, and they do not seem to care much. They are happy to share a tea with each other, make their bread, eat their cheese and olives and continue on living.