Saturday, April 28, 2012

As Through a Glass Darkly - 2

So the old guy had a pain in his stomach. My colleague suggested that the local hospital did a scan to see what the problem was. A few days later we discovered is was cancer, he was assured by the hospital what with treatment and surgery he would recover.

My last recollection of sitting and talking with him was as he sunned himself under the blue autumn sky on an old wooden bed placed outide the small concrete room he and his family called home. He was drifting in and out of sleep and struggling to make sense of what was going on around him.

I can remember struggling to say words of comfort but as always in those situations they were faint whispers of hope settling as feathers on a spent life. 

He had lived a full life, he left behind a wife and a georgeous little girl, she'd been abandonned at birth but they had taken care of her and raised her as their own. 

As through a glass darkly.....

Sunday, April 22, 2012

As through a Glass Darkly

Watercolour and ink on 300gm paper

The sun has arrived. The city is basking in balmy spring weather enjoying a long weekend as the traditional 23rd April Children's Day celebration falls on a Monday this year. The schools will be full of singing, dancing and poetry readings to celebrate this important day. Held on the anniversary of the founding of the parliament in 1920, the holiday is viewed by Turks as a gift from Ataturk not just to Turkish children, but to children of the world. 

Not sure what to say about the picture, you either 'get it' or you don't.

Sunday, April 15, 2012

Did Shakespeare Suffer?

'What did you do today?' I'd ask my son after returning home from school. I should point out that school for him at that tender age was a class full of seventy children sitting three or four to a bench in a small town in Central Asia.
'We had maths today'. He'd say. Hoping that his grasp of maths would an improvement on mine I'd eagerly ask what he'd learnt.
'Well I wrote a poem'. I 'd reach for his maths book and find in between the pages what I'd consider to be a great piece of writing (well I am his father) about dragons flying by and whistful longing. School was hard for him at that time (although it should provide him with a set of excellent dinner party stories later in life) and he'd escape to his  imaginary world to find strength.

'Well it certainly is bringing out the artist in you.' I'd think to myself whilst battling feelings of guilt for putting my son through a daily schooling experience which was unorthodox to say the least.

This one is for sale:

Monday, April 9, 2012


I'm reluctant to write the word 'Jihad' here as one wonders if the very mention of that word puts one on some list somewhere whereby I'd get some unwanted 'followers' tracking my every move etc.. 

'Neyse' as the Turks say (anyhow...) it's actually a good word that denotes struggle. It describes the wrestling that goes on between one's 'flesh' (nefs - and the spirit. Wrestling with one's 'flesh' (an old fashioned concept) is not something I noticed having a particularly high priority rating in the West these days, an interesting worldview difference.....

I continue my experiments with more abstract work.... 

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