more sketches of anatolia

From the giant heads of Mount Nemrut, to the Mesopotamian plains of Mardin.

sketches of anatolia

And at last, here are some of the sketches from my adventure on The Great Anatolian Road Trip this summer, which were shared at the Carnets de Voyages exhibition in Toulouse. These drawings take you from Mevlana's final resting place in Konya to the ongoing archaeological dig at Çatalhöyük— from the quiet hills of Akseki, to Gaziantep's sun-bleached pistachio orchards.

a peek at konya

donkeys and dung

The landscapes in Turkey vary so much, that you swear you were in a different country an hour ago. We have moved from mountains to vast arid plains, to farmland— and back. With the change of landscape, the construction of houses in villages change drastically (with exception to the omnipresent cement blocks), as do the creatures that have been domesticated within those villages. Outside Bolu we came across stone and wooden houses; some with tin roofs, and here outside Kulu, homes are beautifully constructed out of wooden support beams and sun-dried dung. Donkeys and sheep are plentiful, instead of the water buffalo and cows in Kartalkaya.

Then there's this little fellow:



Meet the Anatolian Souslik, a cheeky ground squirrel that runs rampant in these parts. Isn't it lovely?

oh my goddess!

Austria has the wonderfully curvaceous Venus of Willendorf, and Ankara's Museum of Anatolian Civilizations is home to this marvellous statuette of a goddess, possibly giving birth, while seated on a throne flanked by large cats. I seriously wonder why worshipping voluptuous females went out of style... Well, we won't get into the history of religions here, but just look at her:



Someone, one day in around 5750 BCE in the Neolithic settlement of Çatalhöyük, selected a piece of clay to sculpt this surprisingly small beauty. I had only ever seen her in photographs, and had imagined her much bigger, but she was far more impressive in person than in any photograph I've studied. Though her figure is simplified and abstracted, the level of detail in her folds of flesh is astounding. There are carefully rendered creases and dimples all around her body, and the sense of power in her posture still radiates today. There is no shortage of goddess or female figurines that have been found in Central and Eastern Anatolia, and the museum has an exquisite collection of them to fall in love with:



They are also loads of fun to draw (you will see my attempts in a future post). Many of these little ladies are from Çatalhöyük as well, which just so happens to be not too far away...

Note: Having now just visited Çatalhöyük, our very knowledgeable guide Tunç told us that archaeologists are reluctant to call these figurines goddesses, and suspect that they may have been used by women as fertility talismans. We will never know!

scenes from the beginning

of The Great Anatolian Road Trip.

a hard decision

This summer is the first summer in four years, that I will not be going to Nepal. I feel guilty and have spent a lot of tears over the decision, but we just can't do it this year financially. I miss my kids at Shree Mangal Dvip, and emailing them the news broke my heart— but I'm concocting a plan to visit them in the winter.



So no smiling kids, no Stupa, no monsoon, no om mani padme hum. I won't be going home to my loved ones in Boudha, but instead, we've settled on an epic road trip through Anatolia to become more intimate with the home we've been living in.



Onward. Off we go. I hope to blog on the way to show you more of this incredible country— its history, culture, magnificent landscapes, and people. I've loaded a basket with art supplies, and plan to focus on making art, which I have done so little of this year. Let's see what this summer brings.