Alarmart:  What is it calling you?

19 June -21 July  2019


Sea is calling me. I drift towards sea (I am it) every time it calls out to (me), because I can see what is hidden within it. It calls me because I know that I can hide within it. As it ebbs and flows, it both leaves things behind as well as sweeps things away.


Horizon is calling me. Every time horizon (I am it) asks so of (me), I draw a line on its paper. The line brings me closer to the horizon, it makes me talk to it, and has me believe that it is me who draws it.

Wings are calling me. Every time they call me (I am it), I both return from as well as return to (their) sleep. They both bring a dream closer to sleep, as well as make a dream more believable for human beings. Everybody's wings wait for their sleep.


Sky is calling me. I float towards sky (I am it) every time it calls out to me, because it knows I can hear its heartbeat. It calls me since I can wander across its heavens. I now am harvesting all that I have planted throughout sky (instead of earth) up until this point.


Melody is calling me. I warble melody (I am it) every time it calls out to (me). It calls me because I can touch it with my fingers, I can colour it. You could say that I adore mirroring it. That is, mirroring the melody to me.

A dolphin, from a fairy-tale, a hunt, an ocean is calling me. It calls me beneath the underset to the coral reefs. I light a bonfire on the beach every time dolphin (I am it) calls me. We all gather around that fire. At dawn, one of us gets up, either the dolphin or I or the fire, walks towards the ocean...

Fire is calling me! Every time fire (I am it) burns, I bring it light and objects made of clay. As it continues to smoulder, I bring it certain colours and transparent secrets. It calls me because I learn from it and bring cinder to it.

Light is calling me. I know how to both gaze at and flow with something at its own speed. It gathers images from where it radiates, and creates paintings upon wherever it shines. I await it with a clump of silver in hand. It calls me since I know with what metal to wait for it. Emptiness is calling me. I know how to fearlessly walk on a tightrope above emptiness (I am it) without a net. It calls (me) because I know how tread through it. As I pace through, it clears around me. It adores being noticed, and wants to be known as being bigger than everything else.


Mist is calling me. I know to not only how to look at mist (I am it), but also to see it differently from everybody else. It knows the value of those who hide within itself. It values them, and clings to them as dewdrops. It flows into their open neck and oozes out of their open wounds.


Fairy-tale is calling me. I step out of a fairy-tale (I am it) and weave it into fact. I wrap its diary around me whenever it calls (me). It behoves most with a painter's diary. One who fails to live in a fairy-tale, he is regarded to have lived little.


Coincidence is calling me. I long to suddenly come across crystal but in an elegant fashion. Coincidence is one means of provoking the universe. It dogmatizes in order to change your path. It always looks after a painting in order to take place; I allow possibility and it in turn gives a painting. Altitude is calling me. Besides looking at the surface few steps from behind, from the solitude of above, from afar, from the flyways of birds, from the layer(s) at which meteors start to break into smithereens, I see and show into a place close to nothing, close to non-existence, close to vain that everyone becomes equal both next to as well as with it. It calls me to complain about the surface and to drop me from high above enough.



Mayıs / May 2019, Eskişehir