from: burcu tosun
title: Hakan Akçura and scream
form: text and reproduction of "Scream" by E. Munch.
(2 pieces)


“Who is Hakan?
What do I know about HAKAN?
What I shared with him were not much, but I wonder whether those who shared too many things with him got to know him better?
I wonder what did he share with those who knew him well?
What do I know of HAKAN anyway?
Those who hold a mirror cannot help looking at their reflections,
How much does a mirror tell me, how much does a mirror tell him...
What does he want to see...
What does the person holding the mirror aim him to see...
Where do the images reflecting from the mirror go...
Let the mirror show you in me, me in you
Let the mirror show you what I can’t see in you, and what you can’t see in me”

“Mirror mirror, good mirror
Show me what goes around”

“How brave he is with his timidity
How free he is with his self-dependency
How humble he is with his wisecrack
How sad he is with his funniness
How joyful he is with his hurtings
How self-trusted he is with his suspiciousness
He is the best friend and the worst enemy of himself
He is afraid of emotions while feeling
He underrates as much as he overrates
Mistaking his curious and mischievous childishness for adultness
A sensitive, conscientious and emotional friend”

“Naturally, there is no rule that mirrors will be objective
He added his comments without hesitating
Let’s hear what the others would say:”

“I would describe him as a voyeur hacker, a man free and rebellious daytime; reliable and elegant and thoughtful at night time.
He accuses me of being a rogue and playing roles. Let it be, I love him all the same.”

Moon Fortuneteller:
“Oh, what a curious man he is! He insists that I should tell his fortunes.
I shall tell his fortunes this time, but it will be once for all.
Dear Mr. Hakan, I looked at the moon last night for you, and guess what I saw...
The moon rose to your house
There will be an exhibition very soon
And you seem to have won a contest
So many people like you
And so many others envy you
Oh my God, there are many bad omens
You must take measures against them soon
Your fortunes are not ripe for reading yet
And the fortunes ripe for reading don’t tell of you
You thought what you heard are lies, what you saw are daydreams
You thought the truths are cold, the daydreams are easy
The mirrors reflected light, the windows reflected darkness
The fortunes ripe for reading don’t tell of you
You considered loneliness an escape, freedom a reunion”

“Dear Mr. Sun,
While I blow these lines to you like they are a breeze coming from my heart, I apologize in advance for any lapse of tongue, and beg you forgive them. Mon cher, I am deeply sad for not managing to find a retired general in this virtual environment, but I find some solace in that poem that your highness deigned to present to me. If you would like to accept, it will be a great honor for me to present the following humble poem to you:

The sun beam shining through the room

While sufferings give pains to my self at a desolate night
A sun beam warmed my grievous heart
An unknown light suddenly dazzled my lonesome eyes
As if that deep silence was split by a sound”

“ Hakan, here we spoke all together. Everybody told you some thing half-jokingly, half-serious. Now it is up to you to think over them or just nod at them before passing by. Aside from them, I am sending you a picture that I love (and what exactly means to send a picture to a painter). In my opinion that picture tells more than we all do.

Note: By the way, Freesia gave her regards to you, but she couldn’t make a comment because she is invisible in the present.