little stones, and a farewell to old friends

The Zeugma Mosaic Museum in Gaziantep is simply stunning— if you ever find yourself in Antep, have a baklava, then visit the museum. The floors and walls are covered in massive, detailed mosaics of mythological figures, animals, and colourful geometric patterns. I imagine the feet that walked on these works of art, the cool stones smooth under toes and heels— these masterpieces which once decorated the villas of the elite of Zeugma. Zeugma was an Ancient Greek (then Roman) city on the Euphrates, an important stopover on the Silk Road.



Who arranged these millions of tiny little stones? I get goosebumps when I think of ancient artists; people whose names and identities have been lost to time, people who worked tirelessly in collaboration or alone to create beauty that has lasted centuries— millennia, even. I like to think of their hands. Their sketches and rough drafts. Their patience.

In her own private room, the museum's most celebrated mosaic is illuminated by a spotlight in pitch-dark:



Zeugma's "Gypsy Girl" stares back at us just as she did so many years ago when her artist first laid down the siennas, umbers, and salmon pinks of her eyes. A student of mine, passionate about art and wildly curious, asked me "of all the faces here, why is hers so special that it deserves its own room?"

Is it the delicate changes in values and colours? The highlights in her irises? That one white stone on her bottom right (our left) eyelid that gives it a sense of wetness? Is it the way she stares straight at us, seemingly right into us?

"Well, why do you think she's special or unique?" I asked, in my Ms. Zaza voice.
"Oh I don't know," she sighed, "she's just so beautiful..."



While selecting the photos for this post, I came across this one and thought I'd include it, though it has little to do with what I've written about above. I know it sounds silly, but I have a thing for shoes— and I don't mean an obsession or anything like that (though Pedro might say I'm in denial on this), but I have a hard time getting rid of shoes. My shoes have memories; they've taken me places and I've experienced things in them. I remember getting this pair of Converse for Christmas one year, and I remember switching out the laces to black shortly after (the shoes faded to a brownish-grey, but the laces remained as black as ever). I rode ferries in them, climbed rocks in them, their soles met the soil of several countries, and withstood monsoons. They carried me through Antep and made it to Istanbul Atatürk Airport, where they finally peeled so badly apart, it was certain that this was their last adventure and they would be of no use to anyone.

if at first you don't succeed

After two weeks of hand-cramping, eye-straining, joyous inking and gouaching, I've finally finished my entries for Operation Win Fluevog Creative Phase II. You may remember how last month, I lost my first attempt at winning the Fluevog Creative ad design competition for my shoe, the Mini Zaza. It was a close battle— I lost by a mere 1%— and well, if at first you don't succeed, keep on trying.

So here we go. These are my two entries for the Hope shoe, in various stages of completion so you can check out some of the detail and effort I've scrawled into these two pieces. Both were created with labour intensive lines of India ink and gouache colour, but the heart one has a digital touch added to the background rays and doves.

Let's hope we make it to the finals!


Now where's that simitçi drawing I was working on?

fluevog creative

Fluevog has opened their doors to us shoe lovers to create an ad for a selection of their oh-so fabulous shoes. The lucky winners get to have their artwork, name and url printed over 250,000 times in the snazziest of magazines— oh and to top it off, $1000 worth of Fluevogs! Did I enter?
You betcha. I sent my drawing in at the last minute for my shoe, the Mini Zaza, and as fantastic luck would have it, I'm one of the finalists!
Am I hopping up and down as I type this?
Yes, yes I am.

So dear friends, if you like my ad, go to Fluevog.com and vote for me.
If you feel moved by the shoes currently involved (and I'm sure you will be), enter your own creation for a chance at shoe heaven.

Also, if you have a dream shoe kicking around in your brain and would like a chance at getting it made into a real shoe, draw it up and submit it to
Fluevog's Open Source Footwear. If your shoe is chosen, you have the glory of having a Fluevog named after you! It's a marvellous thing, I tell you.

pretty in pink

Out of the clear blue sky, I get this box wrapped in grey paper with Portuguese printed all over it. I tear it open— as I tear every package open— and wrapped inside a delicate cocoon of tissue paper, I spy something deliciously pink. I discover a button. Then I freak out.

Last Month, Fluevog asked people to vote for a new colourway for my shoe, The Zaza. The choice was between a luscious pink/pink, and a snazzy violet/orange combination— which won. Unfortunately only the winning combination could be produced, so imagine the incredible shock and joy I felt to discover that I now have a pair of the unattainable, pretty pink Zazas.
Aren't they fabulous?

Thank you Fluevog, I love you!

Submit your shoe design to Fluevog's Open Source Footwear, and you too could have your very own shoe!

shoes on the danube promenade

Budapest is full of sculptures, monuments and statues of all shapes and sizes, but this one in particular moved me so deeply, it needed its own post. Shoes on the Danube Promenade by Gyula Pauer and Can Togay, is a memorial to the Jews who were shot into the Danube at the hands of the Hungarian fascist group, Arrow Cross, during WWII. There are 60 pairs of iron shoes, forming a row of about 40 metres.

I can't think of a more personal item than shoes. They form to your individual shape and are worn down by your experiences. You dance in them, walk miles in them, you run in them. Every pair in this memorial reminds you of the person— she was short and balanced on the balls of her feet to better reach things, he ground down the soles of those boots between work and home every day— those tiniest shoes held feet that just learned to walk.


Watching the silent grey river, I was overwhelmed, knowing how the same spot was stared at with frightened eyes— how the water's coldness would be the last thing that so many people would feel. Grey turned red, eventual silence. I couldn't help but look at my own shoes, and feel thankful for all I have been given in life.

worn out soles, happy soul

I've just returned to Istanbul with thinner soles on my Malibrans and over two hundred photos of five days in Budapest. I am still in awe over how much I walked— in heels too, mind you. The weather was a bit more than chilly but thankfully dry, and every time I felt my fingers getting stiff, there was a hot mulled wine vendor around the corner to warm them up. Budapest is a beautiful city with such a range of architectural styles, and the most statues I think I've ever seen in one place. I met some fascinating people, including an Iron Man competitor, a mother and daughter who were in the midst of a European tour, our cute and quiet Hungarian receptionist, and an intimidating waffle man. After all that fun and adventure, I am ready to sleep for the next three days.


I would like to add a note of thanks to the pilot of THY Flight 1483— you are a rockstar. With the way the plane was swaying as we were coming in for landing, I seriously wondered if we were about to hear an announcement to hug our knees and brace for impact. The landing seemed effortless and incredibly smooth. Thank you.


Stay tuned for loads more!

haight and the de young

Well I just tried to import my photos off my camera into iPhoto (which I normally never use, but I'm on a different computer) and it crashed, deleting all the photos I took today! I have nothing to show you except sketches. I am so upset. I took tons of pictures of Golden Gate Park, Haight Street, the Conservatory. So I'll just tell you about today and show you some sketches until I go back to the park.

Armed with a fully-charged camera (sigh), I headed off in the chilly fog to Haight Street for a little shopping and some noodles. There is one thing everyone should know before visiting SF in the summer: the weather is cold. Bring warm pants, tights, a jacket and sweaters. The key to visiting and life in SF is layering. My formula was generally skirt + tights + t-shirt + sweater + jacket + scarf. This way I could adjust throughout the day in case the sun decided to shine or the fog swept in.

My most favourite shop on Haight is the Fluevog store. I have been a fan of Fluevog shoes for over a decade. They're stylish, unique, comfortable and incredibly well made. I have several pairs with paper-thin soles but the leather feels and looks brand-new. Every time I wear any of my Vogs, my feet get checked out. The other wonderful thing about Fluevog is that they also give you, yes you, the opportunity to design your own shoe if you enter a sketch into their Open Source Footwear. A few of you may already know this, but last year, Fluevog chose my design to be made into a real shoe that was named after me: The Zaza. Needless to say I was over the moon, and still am every time I put on my own pair. It really felt like winning the lottery, it was such an incredible honour. Here's a picture of my shoe, courtesy of fluevog.com:

Aren't they great? I'm a lucky, lucky girl.
* * *


After my favourite jade noodles in coconut lemongrass sauce at The Citrus Club, I walked through Golden Gate Park to the de Young museum, truly what I consider the most impressive art museum in San Francisco. I do not like the SFMOMA at all; It's an awful building and well, if you can go to a spacious large, well-lit, gorgeous wooden-floored museum with beautifully displayed pieces, wouldn't you rather go there instead? I have spent countless mornings and afternoons in the de Young's Mesoamerican, African and Oceanic art rooms. The clay figures and carved masks feel like old friends that I had to visit.


I just happened to discover at the last minute that one of my favourite movies, Harold and Maude was playing at the Red Vic Movie House on Haight— naturally R and I practically ran over to catch the 9:15 showing. Watching a movie at the Red Vic is a unique and fun experience. The theatre is tiny and has cushioned benches in the front that are quite comfortable. You get your popcorn in a bowl and tea or coffee in a mug. So much more personal and cosy than your typical movie theatre.

images of bodrum

Last weekend I ran off to Bodrum and had an even better time than the last visit. The weather was absolutely perfect and more restaurants were open, as the season is about to hit full swing. I went on a boat trip to the most glorious swimming spots in the clearest, most turquoise water I have ever seen.


As you can see, I thoroughly enjoyed my fish. Never be put off by a fish served whole— lots of people get squeamish when they see the head still on. Just cover it with your lettuce or something because there is nothing like Turkish grilled fish. The skin is the best part, crispy and bursting with flavour, while the meat is very subtle and practically melts in your mouth. Turkish fish dishes are all about experiencing the fish's natural flavour; you'll seldom see a fish served with sauce, which is probably why I could never get into tartar sauce.

Bodrum is known for its handmade sandals, and just about every other shop is a leather sandal shop. Naturally, I picked up a pair.

Click on the images to see them larger.

new shoes, an early gift and an experiment.

Isn't it marvellous when something you've had your eye on is suddenly 60% off? I've been dreaming of these strappy gray babies since before the holidays. Today I'm wearing the 10 lira/6 dollar shirt-dress I found at the Levent market in December, my souvenir-scarf from Lebanon and the belt I got for Christmas from my mom. I ended up switching shoes before running out the door since I was planning on going to Ortaköy, a fun part of town with narrow cobblestone alleys that while charming, can eat up your heels. It was a quick trip— tea in a cosy café, a game of checkers and peeking in boutiques. As an early birthday gift, my sister bought me a gorgeous handmade necklace of antique beads crocheted onto the trim of old scarves. I fell for it instantly, it so reminded me of spring. I still can't quite believe I'll be 30 in the next two weeks. I'm excited—
I plan on having much more fun in my thirties.



On Tuesday I went to a café in Yeniköy called the Yeniköy Spor Kulübü, where people often get together to play Mah-jong, Okey and cards in addition to having lunch. I decided to try sketching with gouache in an attempt to loosen up my drawing style. I think I'll keep trying to see what happens.

Please click on the image to see it larger.





It is imperative that any Sketcher have within reach a delicious Turkish coffee, or kahve. A Turkish coffee is thick, silty and strong, served in a dainty little cup. I like it best orta, medium-sweet— your other options are şekersiz, sugarless and şekerli, sweet. There's a tradition of flipping the emptied cup upside down onto its saucer and reading the future in the sediment left behind. I've seen a jungle full of animals and patterns in mine, but I haven't the foggiest what it all means!