all begins with L

on why i’m at peace: this is a cut&paste so don’t be offended. )

“Alright, here we go.

Eight months on and I am declaring that my quarter life crisis is coming to a proper wrap. After series of interviews, taking aims and pursuing ‘proper’ jobs, I walked away from the last interview feeling utterly relieved knowing that I wouldnt be taking up the position despite putting on a good show.

After an hour of grilling the CEO looked at me and say that I am not one who value sales as much as marketing. I looked at him and went “absolutely.” We all know that a good product is a matter of being communicated, sales is a by-bonus end results. Chey-bah. )

After which I recommended him a good restaurant to have lunch in and he asked me to join him. But then I thought my time with him that day was already over stretched.

I am however meeting him again for possible collaboration. I’m beginning to embrace this mantra of working with people, not for people, even if you’re in a company. And that’s exactly what I’m gearing on with this coffee stint.

True enough, couple of weeks down the road, I saw the present in light. I start to work with what’s around me, my customers, my colleagues, the bosses and just working with the present value.

After seven months I’ve gradually make known to the managers of what I really want to do professionally and right now I’m co-interior designing the new coming cafe these guys are setting up. End of August I’ll be heading to Italy for the Biennale.

Coming back I’ll be starting an introductory course on Interior Design, not a masters nor a bachelor but a starting point. I’m beginning to love London for what it’s worth. Even today taking a new bus route home, I chance upon a road I’ve yet to stroll by.

It hasn’t been easy, I’ve made fools out of myself and still catching myself doing so at times, I’ve gotten quiet lately, perhaps having something to do makes you talk less, and if you talk less then you’ll really find something to do. The equation seems to work at present moment.”

THE FOLLOWING IS NOT CUT&PASTE, SO PAY ATTENTION. )

well, yes the ceo extended a dinner invitation next week. why not. and there’s a new distraction in town. when i get a name, i’ll let you know.

i found an interior design course from st martin which i’ll be signing up for when i get back from Italy. starts in October. Lola leaves London for good tomorrow, i’m quite sad about it actually.

i kinda fought with Sanran, I don’t know how to put it across to him that I can’t be friends with him anymore unless we completely put aside this intimacy.

on a more trivial note, i’m meeting ms. elizaveta tomorrow.

man?women?man?women? is never the question. )

you, i miss, as always.

now what next
for the coming decade

ps. i miss the family

butterlies are back. goes to the esophagus this one.

in three days time
it’ll be my second monthlyvesary in london
i’m still househunting and housemate hunting
this city is filled with extremes
creativity, passion, brilliance
living harmoniously with
arrogance, delusion, hedonism

the product, the result
an economy that permeates dreamers with prevailing dreams
regardless

today i went to view a house
in the east, shoreditch to be specific
famous for its streets littered with starving artist
musicians, writers, peeking into white finished gallery windows

he said, i’ve just gotten out of a twelve year depression
when i renounced the idea of being a film maker
i lost this (he pointed) part of my brain
then four years ago, i decided i want to be an artist
i felt reborn, flagging his arms up into the air
voosh, he said

i am obliged to give him that thirty minutes of my attention
after all he poured me a cup of tea,
with a slice of apple pie which he proudly claimed to have acquired daily
for free

stupid, he said, people throw these away

my thirty minutes was up
i gave him my best wishes
not verbally

it scares the shit out of me

not him,
not the pass expired apple pie,
not the neighborhood

i don’t know how things will unfold, but when it does, it’s magical.
it starts with a thought really, and then a desire.

and then it becomes lust.

a friend in pensive mode said

“…everything i’ve wanted, i’ve gotten, everything i’ve planned is somewhat in course. then come london, it seems as though i have to work a little harder.”

she regurgitated my thoughts and sentiments, exactly.

weed, wine, women

sculpture + product = my professional quest / present idol

yea, i’d like to keep this one

as a friend

so i’m a bit hesitant this time around

with the ego

and the libido.

you keep completing my sentences in snippets of half seconds
and when we talk the world becomes a background
they make a mockery of us
and we run around on the streets like the world is our playground
just for that moment
with you it’s all swings and slides again
with all its cliché

who are you

there’s a certain ritual to ushering in the new year, or rather if you’re a less futuristic person (with a history major) you would say instead, ‘to wrap up the year’. And they are almost accurately as follows:

a) reading old letters/blog post
b) scrolling through phone numbers
c) and delete those you’d probably not need to remember about (or pursue) in the new phase of your life
d) decide whether you really should delete their numbers
e) chart how old your virtual pets are, namely your blog, your flickr acccount, your twitter account, ourchart account, hotmail account??!
f) re reading certain post and stomach a guffaw, re re re reading another post
g) that brings a trip down memory lane that turns into another lane, then goes waaay into the back lane
h) and go “omg C, look what i found!!”
i) and go bloody hell! my blog is turning three!

the flings, the affairs, the trials, the pursuits, the fantasies that partially morphed into bitter sweet realities, here we we go again.

if the adrenaline of having a crush has an inverse quantum relation to hunger, i’ll be one to attest to it.

fluttr could be a domain name for (oh no not) another online social network, because that’s exactly what (/i haveinthestomach) i’m feeling right now before a first meet - offline.

;)

______, I would (want to) work for/with/in

writer: monocle
designer: ideo, karim rashid, lacoste
advertiser: bbh
chef: my own restaurant
musician: feist and kate nash
electronic musician: just jack, lemon jelly
actress: the l word
director: marion cotillard
hotelier: yoo development
optometrist: theo eyewear

A (said) : I like men in uniforms.
B (said) : I like men in all forms.
C (said) : I like men in hot forms.

i finally made the virgin pilgrim to istanbul’s famous club of xx chromosomes, quite a paradox to sexual fluidity so perhaps i should say ‘xx-xy-yy-yx’. i hardly frequent gay clubs for one it’s too punk a scene, often filled with seventeen year olds seemingly eye-lined with thick tip marker pen or forty seven year olds (who drag with mustaches) donning harley davidson leather jackets - theme party stuck in seventies.

but the scene is changing (and i heard the same for back in the motherland), where power suits and studded heels are slowly but surely gracing the affair. so we waited, one hour pass, then two hours, then two and a half when a group of alpha types sashayed into the club, bringing new york (or san frans) to istanbul.

a friend said “i want to live in the l word” - the one show that has single handedly distort my perception of beauty.

i’m not a snob, just a femme fan.

On a more trivial affair, there are two men in the office, a) the youngish copywriter that could do a stunt bottom for Wentworth Miller, the lead guy in Prison Break, b) the oldish -i would used the word ‘experienced’- creative director who has had his blood pressure tested recently and made me hook up his tube to his medical gadget, but he is charming and at some point rather suave. I’ve always had the hots for older men, Sean Connery any day over brad pitt types, but James Gallagher will do the trick too.

(just when you think i’m switching sides)

Oh, new entry: a neve campbell look-a-like just joint the office a day after me and her first few words to me were “sen blablabla guzel” (means you blablabla beautiful) and so I replied “Bende” (you too). But apart from ‘*hava guzel and **yemek guzel” we can only look at each other.

I’m not taking sides or switching sides, for now as far as priorities are concerned, a room, a paying job and restaurants to check off. If something were to happen, it’ll be serendipitous. So there!

*hava = weather
**yemek = food

it has been half a year of utter randomness
it began with a planned program
immersing myself in a new culture
where a cup of coffee tells it all

turkey

then midway to a pilgrimage equivalent
to satisfy the palate

spain awaits

i find myself in transit
in a flash in a train in an hour
if the city is a song, it’ll be an indie song

zurich

unexpectedly i found myself teleported back home
surrounded by the familiar, the old, the permanent
the ones i have missed and yearned to see

singapore

one month later i find myself in another city
a dream much thought about, a decade’s worth of believing
and now that i am here, the wonderland has shrunk into an ornament
like that perfect little snowball souvenir one would find in the harrods shopping mall

london

in cold ash thatcham
i wake up everyday at six and go to bed at ten
yoga every tuesday and other random things at hand
today i went mountain biking
spotting white horses along the hillsides

and i think to myself, what a random random world

two and a half weeks left before reality confronts
a home, a job, a room to hunt

Booking reference:
EDP6N6N
17 aug five am

i have chosen istanbul
to put an end
to this utter randomness of mine

yesterday i went to view a couple of apartments and stumbled upon a shoebox with decent enough a rent. laid back housemates, a red comfy couch in a cosy living room and a backyard for weekend bbq. and they have a cat in the house!

but i went back ‘home’ feeling unsettled.

london was my dream 10 years ago and it still is. and now that i am here there lies a tiny but gaping hole in the heart. or rather it has been filled up halfway with that recent love affair, which most of you have come to hear me rambling on and on about.

so i have made up my mind to move back to istanbul, to put an end to the ‘what if’(s).

london is that perfect man i have dreamt about, istanbul seems to be that imperfection that i would rather live with.

for now.

i change my mind like a five year old in a candy store.

keeping fingers/palms/toes/tongue crossed.