frida

Oh be still my thunderous heart— Frida, in Istanbul! This is the very first time that the work of either Frida Kahlo or her husband, Diego Rivera, has ever been shown in Turkey. Over forty pieces from the artists are currently on display at the lovely Pera Museum until March 20th. Do not miss it!

pink

above the fog

The similarities between San Francisco and Istanbul this morning end with the melancholic, melodic azan being sung somewhere beneath the fog. The past three weeks have melted into some kind of blurry dream, and as I sit here by the window, it hardly seems possible that they ever took place. In many ways I wish they hadn't; I would still have my grandad, but such wishes are pointless as this is precisely life. It comes and goes, much faster than we would like— which is why we must always do whatever we can to make what we have as beautiful and as true for ourselves as possible. Life has suffering and tremendous beauty— no matter how painful or ugly things can get, we must always remember great joys and wonderful things lie just on the other side, and are carried with us in our hearts through the hardship. There is always poetry, there is always love.

two of my favourite things

1. The Gilded Lily at the Alembic on Haight
2. Imperial Jade Noodles with Coconut Lemongrass Marmalade Shrimp at Citrus Club on Haight

My, oh my.

urban curry

On Broadway, among the flashing neon, one can order up a plate some of the most exquisite curry I have had in San Francisco. You can actually taste the tomatoes in the chicken tikka masala sauce at Urban Curry, and the flat screens blasting flat-bellied Bollywood beauties dancing in colourful saris just adds to the deliciousness.



If you find yourself craving some Indian food and are in the North Beach/Chinatown area, do drop into Urban Curry— it's oh so yummy.

Urban Curry
523 Broadway, between Kearny and Columbus / SAN FRANCISCO
415 677 97 44

the good egg

Egg sandwich on a croissant with smoked salmon, tomatoes and avocados at La Boulange de Polk.



Sunday morning eggs and bacon at my dear friend Suzi's house.



Brunch at Café de la Presse: Eggs Benedict with smoked salmon and home fries.

long-lost love

I was overwhelmed with all sorts of emotions during my two and a half days in San Francisco. I missed my grandad terribly, and every street I walked down held some lost memory that filled me with longing and nostalgia. I had loved living in San Francisco. It's a city full of action and adventure— I had my dear friends, my favourite haunts, and the food— oh the food! I was visiting an old love who I never quite lost feelings for, but I know deep down inside that we just can't be together.

there's something about san francisco

There just is.

things left behind

My grandad's chair and a few of his things.

the sketchbook project

Art House Co-op's The Sketchbook Project is best described as being "like a concert tour, but with sketchbooks." According the the Art House Co-op website, the project has grown to an astonishing 28,834 artists from 94 different countries, with thousands of sketchbooks that will go on tour around the United States in 2011. At the end of the tour, the sketchbooks will be housed at The Brooklyn Art Library in Brooklyn, New York.

Naturally, I had to be one of the 28,834 artists. I signed up and was sent a plain, 13cm x 21cm kraft-covered Moleskine Cahier notebook. Upon joining the project, you could either choose one of several themes provided or have one randomly selected for you— I chose the theme Boys and Girls, with my interpretation being The Boys and the Girl. These are cropped previews of what I've been working on:



I do hope I can fill the entire 80 page book with drawings before the January 15 deadline!

a bag of crustaceans

I can't think of anything better than beginning the new year with friends and a bag of crustaceans. Priscilla and Angelo took me to the yummy and messy The Boiling Crab in Sacramento, where lobster, crawfish, shrimp and crabs are sold by the pound, steamed and simmered in bags of garlic, spices and sauce. My goodness, for a girl who will passionately eat anything that comes out of the sea, this was heaven in a bag— and you get to eat it with your hands! There's something deliciously childlike about feeding yourself with your fingers— it puts you literally in touch with your food and well, it's just fun.

As I was cracking open my saucy King Crab legs, I couldn't help but think of the Alaskan crab fishermen who brave the violence of the Bering Sea for our bellies. When I lived in SF, I was an avid watcher of the Discovery Channel's Deadliest Catch— I cheered on the crew of the Cornelia Marie, Time Bandit and Northwestern as they charged into icy mountainous waves to haul up giant cages of spidery treasure. I'm not a big fan of television, but I was strangely captivated by this show, and often think about it when I watch the fishermen head out to the far tamer Black Sea in Istanbul.




The absence of plates and cutlery makes dining at The Boiling Crab a saucy, garlicky mess— a blissful saucy, garlicky mess. I've never experienced such a thing— how fitting to start a new year by trying something new!

goodbye 2010

It's already 2011 in Istanbul, and as I await the stroke of midnight here, in California, I can't help but look back on the year that was so full of adventure and wonderful things. I'm thankful that I was able to live out so many of my childhood dreams in 2010— climbing up to the Parthenon, strolling through Barcelona, drinking yak butter tea in Nepal and standing in front of the mighty Himalaya.

So 2011, what do you have in store? I look upon you with hopeful eyes and a pounding heart. It is my goal to make every dream of mine a reality. My dear readers, I wish you the happiest of new years. May your 2011 be full of love, laughter, light and adventure. May you live your dreams.

Mutlu Yıllar! Happy New Year!

warm wishes

Have a Harika Holiday!
Cherish your loved ones.

white lines and chain-link

farewell

I miss my grandad terribly. I miss his crooked grin, I miss his laugh, I miss his hello. I miss his mountain of notes— tiny scraps of paper scrawled on in his own blend of Danish and English. I miss his colourful, often incomprehensible sayings and his honesty. "Treat someone the way you'd like to be treated" he'd say, deeply serious, with a wag of his finger.

My grandad taught me how to fish as a little girl, and humoured me when I wanted to take the tiny sparkling fish home as pets instead. We found bowls for the fish, filled them with tap water, and when the fish didn't survive, we buried them under the bush with the red berries in the front yard.

I have countless stories and memories that I will cherish with every molecule of my being, and every time I see Denmark spelled with an 'e', I'll remind myself of his great frustration with the English language and how it fouled up his beloved Danmark. The loss of my grandad weighs heavily in my life; he was one of my most favourite people in this world. As life rolls on— much as I wish it could stand still a moment or wind backward for a spell, I carry with me the memories and stories as comfort and joys. I am fortunate to have known such a wonderful man, such a unique and special human being— so lucky indeed, to have been his granddaughter.

Jeg elsker dig, morfar.

jeg elsker dig, morfar.

I wish we could have said goodbye.

ink for my grandfather

I have given my grandparents my left leg— there's a gardenia for my grandmother and now, for my grandad, a Danish paper heart with the words jeg elsker dig across it. This will be a holiday surprise, though somewhat expected, as they are my ninth and tenth tattoos.

Once again, the talented Mr. Emrah Özhan over at Lucky Hands Tattoo Parlour has inked me up. I'll post photos of the finished work once we get there— I still have to add some of my grandad's much loved mamelukærme flowers and add colour here and there.

Lucky Hands Tattoo Parlour
Mısır Apartmanı, fourth floor, İstiklal Caddesi / Beyoğlu / İSTANBUL
0212 251 52 91 

two years

Two years ago, on the bare wooden floor of my beloved San Franciscan apartment, with the drumming of my fingers on the keyboard echoing in the empty room, I sat, typing the few lines that were my very first blog post.  I had made the radical decision to sell most of my possessions, pack my life into two suitcases and move to Istanbul, a city I remembered fondly from my childhood. There were no plans, only action; I wanted something different for my life.

I was brought up a nomad, and the thirteen years I had spent in the United Stated left me itching for a return to the life I had known; a life of adjustment, displacement and above all, movement. I longed for the challenge of twisting my tongue to a different language, I missed the wonder of learning something new. After spending the last four years of my twenties in the manic grind of the ad world, watching airfares rise and fall online for trips I'd never have the time or energy to take, I realised the life I was living was not what I wanted to live.

I wanted to travel. I wanted to see, smell, taste and feel something new. I wanted to know the world; to meet people and places I would never meet from behind my desk. There were so many questions I wanted answers to— what colour is the Danube in the fall? How does the Barcelona sun feel on a shoulder? What does morning sound like in Kathmandu? Does the Bosphorus still turn that green before it snows?

Two years later, I know that the Danube is a silvery grey, the sun licks your shoulders with a stinging warmth in Barcelona, morning is birdsong, laughter and chanting in Kathmandu, and the Bosphorus is, as I look through the window at this very moment, that pale green. I've had the good fortune of meeting so many wonderful people, and I've been lucky to have set foot on many different soils, but with each step and every new smile, another question arises.

I aim to discover the answer to every question that rears its head, and I aim to eat it, photograph it and draw it. I aim to share my findings with you. Thank you all for your kindnesses, your comments and words of encouragement. It has been a splendid two years full of adventure, and the third promises to be just as harika.

body worlds

If you haven't been to the Body Worlds exhibit at Antrepo 3 in Karaköy yet, you'd better bust a move. The show ends on the 17th, and is beyond fascinating— real human bodies preserved through a plastification process, posed and sculpted for maximum impact and beauty. This exhibit is a must for any artist interested in the human form.

city of grey