from: ali törün
I cherish your "I Want My Mirrors” project or your consideration of me as one your mirrors. I was one of those who say “Oh, how nice, why did I come up with that idea?". Therefore, I was afraid that while I describe the sigh of a mirror, my words would be me, not you. Then I said to myself that no mirror can reflect a single image.
Oh, dear Hakan, are there so many real words available in our hands that what I will write will be a mirror without lies reflecting my heart to yours? It is very difficult to achieve to be the mirror of the life built on that belief that I share with you, to be able to reflect you. What can I write, should I picture that man living with the belief that he transmits what come from ‘above’, or should I picture what I said with the tongue of my inner world about you at that time? I think I should picture the latter. However, in those days the childishness of a thing in which we believed so much was so dominant in our soul that I couldn’t much describe you with the tongue of my inner world. What was the most real question asked to a human at that time? Most of the time I described you as a good person to others. But this answer should have been containing the twist of knowing somebody first in our mind, then in our heart. Those days we spoke with dreaming words. I would want to describe you with the magic of those dream years. I am thinking what we did not talk about through those two nights when you stayed at our house before you moved to Istanbul. While I look at that card where you shout “I Want My Mirrors”, I felt as if you were at my place with your photo on the third frame, you were our guest like a sad jazz song. Most of the things we talked those two nights were written on the handouts. What we did not talk, we could not talk refrain me from turning into a real mirror before you. A strange coincidence, you forgot a wood ruler at our house, perhaps symbolizing that you didn’t want to live the rest of your life with measures. And it was your goodness to forget that ruler, later I heard and read that my dream comrade was a snow flower out of sheer obstinacy against those talking about ‘lost generation’. But we always remembered you with that ruler, I always used that ruler to tell my friends that its owner was a child with the face of Che. They always tried to reach you, to know you with that ruler. I don’t think they managed to do so. I told them you are a painter, but you were probably not using a measuring scale in your pictures.
Oh dear Hakan, I know you want me to be a mirror, to talk about those days. But I am directed to the present, however undeliberately. “Memories, memories, allof them are probably just one word.” Can I describe you with just one of those dreaming words? Yes I can. I shall seek that word, my dream comrade, I shall seek that word until I manage to become a mirror which can reflect the dream of that word.