cabin fever

I've been a bit of a hermit lately, ever since my Turkish class ended, and I had a migraine that turned me into a cranky vegetable for a few days. Today I'm back on my feet and thought I might get out and visit a museum or two, even though it's raining. The sky is fantastically dark, and it seems as though the entire city is painted in greys. I love walking in warm summer rain.

I've also been trying to tie up some loose ends here before my trip to San Francisco next week, which I am incredibly excited about. I have missed dear SF, and can't wait to see my friends and hang out in old haunts— I've been craving a burrito ever since I left in December. I'll have my camera and plenty of net access so I'll be taking you on a little tour of my City by the Bay.

In the meantime, here are some sketches I did last week. The last one was drawn in Istinye Park Sinemasi while watching Public Enemies, which I really enjoyed— especially for the costumes and cars. Oh! And I was thrilled to hear two Otis Taylor songs prominently featured throughout the film.

and finally...

My entry in Ramires' book for Moly-X34 is complete.
I am so happy with the way it turned out.

Please click on the image to see it larger.

the bee-eaters, cake and otis.

Around six o'clock this evening, I heard the sound of whistling outside— not high-pitched, but like those plastic whistles I had as a kid. I ran to the window immediately, knowing I was about to see something spectacular, but I wasn't sure what. There in the air, between the large budding green trees and my window, were the most beautiful aerial acrobats I have seen in my life— European Bee-eaters. Just this week I saw my first bee of the year and wondered if the flamboyant birds came this way. I was over the moon— I never knew bee-eaters existed until I got my October 2008 issue of National Geographic, and I recognised them immediately. I felt like I was seeing some mythological creature— it might as well have been a unicorn out there.

When I was a little girl, I had this illustrated encyclopedia of animals (bee-eaters were not included), and I fell in love with a drawing of a handsome bird called a Starling. It was drawn so exquisitely, with all sorts of speckles and violets, greens and blacks for iridescence, I thought, truly this must be a magnificent and rare bird. Years later, when I saw my first starling, I was completely blown away. My friend that was with me at the time thought I was nuts, then explained that they're so common, they're considered pests. It felt odd to discover that something you considered so special and beautiful was nothing more than a common pest, but I didn't care. I still get excited when I see a starling.

If you'd like to learn more about bee-eaters, the National Geographic article Painting the Sky, is available to read online.




* * *

One of the more interesting symptoms of my migraines is that I get this manic surge of creativity before one hits. I had a feeling I was going to be smacked with one today when I got up this morning, so I took something and hoped for the best.

With the aid of a nasty yellow and green pill, I felt well enough to take a painting break to socialise with my mom and her friends for lunch and cake. I don't normally like cake and I hate icing, but my goodness. This cake was divine. It was brought from Pelit Patisserie and it was the fluffiest, lightest cake with the freshest raspberries. It was like eating a berry-flavoured cloud. I've had three slices today.


After my rediscovery of the wonders of cake, I went back to the studio to paint some more. I've had some canvases awaiting paint for a while now, but have neglected them in favour of other work. It felt so good to throw on some music and get the paints out. I was feeling so good that I spilled a jar of linseed oil all over the table and floor and frantically tried to scoop up what I could to put back in the jar. Now my studio smells like a studio.



This is a 100cm x 120cm oil painting that I started working on today. I've been wanting to do massive oils for a while, but so far the largest canvas I was able to find was this size. The sizes I dream of will have to be custom made, and while I used to stretch my own canvases, I'd like to have a professional build them. For now, I'll be working on the 100 x 120 ones. I want to translate the style of my pen sketches into oils, but with more colour and texture. This is an image I've had in my head for a while, a man fishing on the Bosphorus. I want the paintings that follow this one to be captured memories, in the sense that they are moments in time that I have either lived or seen, not necessarily an illustration of a specific event. If that makes sense.

I also began working on Ramires' book for Moly-X34. It's an image I've had in my head for a long time and never got around to drawing, inspired by an Otis Taylor song. Every now and again, I go through an indescribable phase and hit shuffle on all my Otis Taylor songs. His music is so pictorial; I don't know how else to put it— "Trance Blues" is what he calls it, but it's more than that. I feel, see and smell when I listen to his music. The images created by his words, percussive banjo playing and the occasional cello are so vivid, they're like dreams.


There's a good article about him on the Boulder Weekly website, if you are interested in reading more about this fascinating man.
Please click on the images to see them larger.