Spiritual revelations on princess island

Some days I dont know whats happening, only that I am supposed to meet everyone in the hotel lobby at 9:30am. Maybe thats not so much taking an active approach to this journey, but I like the element of suprise. This day we took a magical ferry ride to princess island, a suprise and a delight. Sailing along the mighty Bosphorus, on one side Europe and the other Asia, underneath the black glassy surface were constellations of jellyfish suspended like jewels. The Island is strange, like some long abandoned attraction at a rundown theme park. There are no cars, only bicycles and horse drawn carriages. It is mostly residential, so there are palaces and next door to them, haunted houses, boarded up and abandoned. It is crawling with stray cats and dogs, like the former inhabitants left and forgot their beloved pets. We walked the streets winding higher up to the peak of the island. Iveta tells us there is a church at the top and this is a pilgrimage that was made especially by mothers who had lost their children, jokingly I asked, "what about children who've lost their mothers?" But the joke hit too close to home. Suddenly I am thrust into a kind of contemplation wholly unprepared for. But there, climbing this beautiful mountain on an island in Turkey, I cried for how greatful I am to be alive, the gift my mother gave me. How unexpected and astonishing that I am in this far off place. I cried all the way up that big fucking hill, flanked by my two stray dog friends, feeling untouchable, limitless, capable of great things, as alive and in the moment as I could hope to be. I went into the church and kissed the saints, put wishes in a jar, sat under arc angel michael in his hammered silver boots and said silly prayers and incantations in hopes that some kind of divinity would intervene and lead me down an unforseen path to more moments like this one. Thinking that was enough revelation for one day I quit the scene and sat down at the cafe conveniently located on the top of this big hill over looking all of creation. I order a turkish coffee, and it just so happens that Serkan, our handsome translator, is an expert at reading the coffee grounds. It goes like this...drink the coffee, leave the sludge in the bottom, place the saucer over the cup and flip, letting the goods get all stirred up, let stand five minutes. Then this total stranger tells me some of the most painfully insightful things I have ever heard. Enter revelation #2. Heres the quick and dirty: I collect experiences and people, store them because I am affraid to forget anything (truth). I can seem cold to people I dont know but the few people I let in trust me deeply (generic truth). I want to do something in academics but I am affraid to (scary truth), and I am going to, but I will have to move to do it. I set my goals much lower than what I am capable of achieving, if I removed my SELF IMPOSED limitations I could do something great (maybe generic but soul crushingly accurate). He said a bunch of other stuff that freaked me out, but it was a lot about school and living the dream and not being afraid of doing awesome shit, which has been weighing heavily on my mind during this trip. I dont care if it is real or not, he felt like some kind of mouth peice from god sent to tell me to stop being a lazy baby, and go do all the rad shit I am destined to do. I mean I made it all the way to fucking Turkey, never thought that would happen. Makes me wonder what else I could do. Maybe it doesnt sound as epic and revelatory as it seemed to me, but my pilgrimage yeilded at least the inkling of a desire to transgress some of my perceived limits, and thats a start. Plus everything probably seems monumental when your under the powerful spell of Turkey and all its beauty.

Update: Anthony Bourdain edition

Ok, so we walk all over hell and creation through the narrow streets and underground markets to get to this place, headquarters of Mothers For Peace. These women are amazing, and so welcoming even though we dont speak eachothers language. They have all suffered great loss from the never ending battle between the Turks and Kurds, and came together to protest for peace. Really beautiful and sad stories. So we get a break for lunch and downstairs is this really cute street cafe and theres a ton of people and all their food looks really good, but for some reason I think, no...must have a look around at least. I walk for a few minutes but all I see are empty cafes and I turn to my friend and say, "fuck it, lets go back to the first cafe, Anthony Bourdain says eat where the locals eat, and thats where they're eating so..." A bunch of us sit down and Im explaining Bourdains unifiying theory on street food when the waiter comes up and says, "oh you know him? He ate here six months ago, come see his picture and I will show you the kitchen and introduce you to the chef!" Seriously off my titts excited. The chef is in there working the meat kebabs over a pile of hot coals. The waiter tells us he has Anthony Bourdains phone number if we want it. I ordered what he got...meat extravaganza and the most delicious rice and pita bread Ive ever had. Istanbul you've stolen my heart, Tony Bourdain...I owe you one!

Istanbul

I woke from my evening rest to watch the sun go down over the city and hear the call to prayer. Turkey is home to a great many Muslims and along the skyline you can see so many minarets towering above everything else, attatched to them are speakers and from them you hear the chanting five times a day. Istanbul looks like something from a movie or a dream, not anywhere I thought I would ever see for myself. I have never seen so many people in my whole life. The city throngs and pulsates like the ameobas still packed in my sickley lungs. It is itself a feast, to look at to taste. I am amazed.

The limbo of sickness and travel

For the second time on this magical journey I have succumbed to illness, this one more ferocious than the last. Four days were wasted laying on the couch looking whistfully out the window, wishing I could be well and wandering my beloved city. I leave for Turkey tomorrow so there was no way another day would be lost on lung chunks, and queez. In broken english I managed to negotiate with the apotheke for some miracle nasal spray that makes me feel half alive again, but is probably killing me a little too. No more than all the cigarettes I've smoked over my lifetime I suppose. Anyhow, I managed some good park sitting and solo wandering today. I went to my favorite fountain, the neptune fountain I think, and did some drawings. It was the magic hour and the light was golden and shinning off the domes of the churches and I felt young and in love. My drawings no matter of what, always end up looking like my drawings. These beautiful bronze women sitting around the fountain are reduced to my big handed googley eyed freaks. I guess thats what you call style. Im looking forward to Turkey, but am secretly wishing I could skip it and have another solid two weeks here. Secretly Im only going for the food, the lamb to be more specific. So officially the trip is half over. I feel like a cheap rubber ball, bounced too hard on the ground. I've reached the apex of my magical ascent and now its a swift downward trajectory, greeted by the reality of cold cement. I don't want to go home. This coming from the asshole who cried all the way to the airport that she didn't want to leave. Time changes when you're traveling, slows down. If I kept moving forever maybe I would never die.

I can't find my way in...

Berlin is so hectic and full of art bleeding from every corner, I am forgeting to make some of my own (save for some drunken sharpie misshaps in bathroom stalls and sides of buildings). I always put off doing the things I like most. Pleasure delaying or sheer laziness? Im going to kareoke to atone for my sins.

Babies first protest

As you may know, the Pope is here in Berlin to address parliment. People aren't so excited about it. So yesterday there was a large protest. People dressed up as varying gay dead condom toting incarnations of the Pope, saw one arm in arm with Hitler (nod to popes nazi youth?). Its about the seperation of church and state and the catholic churches notoriously backward ideas on alternative sexualities and contraceptives. I think my favorite sign said something to the effect of "I'll fuck who I want, my hole is not holy." It was amazing to be there, feel part of something where my body faceless in the crowd is meaningful in a way, helping to take up that space, to show solidarity. It is something new to me, to see people upset about something...and then get together in such great numbers to make it known. I thought you just sit on the couch and bitch about all the injustice out there.

Berlin Is my spirit city

Did a solid wander around the big B today. Saw some churches and this crazy bombed out squat palace where people go to spray paint shit. In another life where I am unaffraid of arrest I would be a graffiti artist. Maybe Berlin will help me grow a pair. Went to my first crypt today, saw a lot of dead princes and princesses. I am slowly learning how to navigate the subway system, with the patient guidence of Karen, a seasoned New York subway vet. I saw this old man owning the flute on the ride home, I was enchanted, however the natives looked annoyed. When the flautist wandered up and down the car waving a dirty cup in everyones face I realized his motives for entertaining us were not so innocent. I did what Anthony Bourdain suggested and tried some currywurst, sausage with katsup and curry powder. A delight for any carnivor. I will try as many different street vendors as I can until I find the perfect currywurst! Can anyone tell me why my pants are feeling a little snug? I don't feel scared of Berlin the way I do other big cities. Its easy to navigate, and filled with nonstop rad shit to see and do. Its cheap too, at least compared to Holland. I would magic wand myself a cute little flat and a hot German lover before you could EVEN blink an eye. EDIT: The internet here is shite so blogging has become a dream of the past, Ill try and slip it in where I can. Saw the Berlin wall, its so real. Went to a sweet little bar and then a raging dance party. The danger for a night creature like me is that the club NEVER CLOSES. Next thing you know you have to take a cab at 4am, because the trains stopped running and you're too drunk to figire out the night bus. Im going to find a way to never leave. Also the pope is in town (not kidding) and people are rioting in the streets because they dont believe in the catholic churches policies on homosexuality and contraception. Good for you Berlin.