Face to Face?

I've never been a real fan of online social networking, and certainly not when I see what kind of horrible pictures people like to post (I won't give any example, just have a look by yourself, it can sometimes be hilarious). I once registered at yonja to find old Turkish friends online, which hasn't been so useful since I'd already managed to keep in touch with friends I really like... Anyway, I started this blog -ok, this isn't social networking but blogging- and still don't know exactly how many people around the world are really interested by my modest posts (I guess people who like to go to gigs?). Still, I like writing so it can't harm anybody and certainly not myself.
Invited by friends, I've finally accepted to register at facebook. I must say I'd never heard of it before, and since the lovely person I happen to share my life with happens to be a new media specialist, I've been able to learn more about it in a very short time. Thanks to facebook, I found very old friends I lost from sight and who now live in Canada and who I might see this summer in Turkey! Only for that, I'm very happy to have discovered this communication tool. It is an incredible tool when you really use it well, that is (for me at least) to communicate, and not to add millions of people you will never want to hear from in normal times just to fill in your list. It will never replace face to face communication, or even voice to voice, or any other physical closeness for that matter, but it certainly works to make the "face to face" go on or happen, and vice versa. The thing is, I guess, to be able not to become the tool but keep on being the user.

Head On

In order not to get discouraged nor lose my present self confidence that I can actually do it... I'm going to write it on this blog, so you can all witness it. But, honestly, I also need to write it for myself, so I know I would be quite ashamed if I don't keep my promise... not only to those who all believe in me, especially one delicious espresso bean I would never want to disappoint, but most certainly to myself.
I got one and a half week of work left, then I will be flying to Turkey where I will spend time reading, discovering, seeing people I love and writing. With one goal for the time I come back to Brussels: finishing my collection of short stories in order to send it to publishers this fall (I'm still quite cautious not to give you any precise date).
Well, that's it, it's written now and, hopefully, read. I've got no more excuses. It is time now to face up with my writing, whether good or bad, I got to go on.

Long live the festivals!

Summer is definitely the time of festivals. After Werchter and Couleur Café, Midis-Minimes has begun during the week, offering Brussels dwellers and working people the opportunity to listen to some very nice classical music in the Minimes Church at lunch time for the whole summer. But apart from the festivals, there are also open air concerts everywhere around Europe. On Friday evening, it was the Red Hot Chili Peppers who were on stage at the Parc des Princes in Paris. Stadium not so huge as the Stade de France, it is still impressing to find oneself in the middle of an immense crowd. A great concert from many points of view, from the set list to the amazingly good performance of all the musicians (as a dear espresso bean said, they're technically at least 50 times better than any other equally famous rock band), I couldn't find any weak points... except for the length. How come that a band with such a repertoire could only play for an hour and a half? Indeed, I wouldn't have found anything negative to say until the too short bis. The can-do-better (in time, not in quality) feeling was unfortunately omnipresent... So the best is to focus on the quality of the hour and a half, trying not to think about the missing half.
Same goes for Björk who performed at Westerpark in Amsterdam yesterday evening. She was mesmerizing, the feelings we experienced with her in Werchter were also with us in Amsterdam. Great set list from the opening "Earth Intruders" to the closing "Declare Independence", with powerful vocal moments like in the so right "Pagan Poetry" or "Joga", we felt that she was quite more relaxed than in Werchter... because she surely had more time we thought... but here again, one hour and a half and then... the fairy was gone. Fortunately, despite of the feeling of "not enough", the time we see these artists spend on stage is really worth the journey. And maybe I got too used to some other artists playing at least an hour and forty five, if not even two hours... (sometimes three, but these are really crazy ones, isn't it Dave?). I guess the conclusion here would be, better short and good than long and boring! Because more than good, they certainly were (but still, I don't believe neither the Red Hot's nor Björk could be boring!!)...
It's not yet the end of festivals and there are still several to go... like the Blue Note in Ghent and the North Sea in Rotterdam... Some Jazzy days are behind us! To be continued...

Wings from Tool

Extraordinarily moving... I have no other words to describe this beautiful song by Tool. It has been written by Keenan Maynard for his mother who was paralyzed for 27 years, that is around 10,000 days... I can't say anything more, just read the lyrics, and if you don't have it yet, get the sound too.

Tool - 10,000 Days (Wings Part 2)

Listen to the tales and romanticize,
How we'd follow the path of the hero.
Boast about the day when the rivers overrun.
How we rise to the height of our halo.

Listen to the tales as we all rationalize
Our way into the arms of the savior,
Feigning all the trials and the tribulations;
None of us have actually been there.
Not like you.

Ignorant siblings in the congregation
Gather around spewing sympathy,
Spare me.
None of them can even hold a candle up to you.
Blinded by choice, these hypocrites won't see.

But, enough about the collective Judas.
Who could deny you were the one who
Illuminated your little piece of the divine?

And this little light of mine, a gift you passed on to me;
I'm gonna let it shine to guide you safely on your way,
Your way home ...

Oh, what are they going to do when the lights go down
Without you to guide them all to Zion?
What are they going to do when the rivers overrun
Other than tremble incessantly?

High is the way, but all eyes are upon the ground.
You were the light and the way they'll only read about.
I only pray, Heaven knows when to lift you out.
Ten thousand days in the fire is long enough;
You're going home.

You're the only one who can hold your head up high,
Shake your fists at the gates saying:
"I've come home now!
Fetch me the spirit, the son, and the father.
Tell them their pillar of faith has ascended.
It's time now!
My time now!
Give me my, give me my wings!"

You are the light and way that they will only read about

Set as I am in my ways and my arrogance,
(With the) burden of proof tossed upon the believers.
You were my witness, my eyes, my evidence,
Judith Marie, unconditional one.

Daylight dims leaving cold fluorescents.
Difficult to see you in this light.
Please forgive this bold suggestion, but
Should you see your Maker's face tonight,
Look Him in the eye, look Him in the eye, and tell Him:
"I never lived a lie, never took a life, but surely saved one.
Hallelujah, it's time for you to bring me home."

Keenan Maynard (From the album 10,000 Days)

Rediscovering Rachel's

About ten years ago, during one of my usual digging at second hand CD and book shops on the boulevard Lemmonier in Brussels, I've been stopped in my search by a very nice cover. Not only was the paper quality attracting my hand, the title printed on it just couldn't help me leave it there as if nothing would have happened... It said "Music for Egon Shiele". Being a real admirer of the Austrian painter, I just had the reflex to look at the booklet... I saw the drawings, some I recognized, some not. Then there was more about the band "Rachel's". I had no idea who they were, what kind of music they were doing... never heard of them. Thanks to Egon Shiele and the beautiful layout of their cover, I got back home with a CD I surely listened to thousands of times. Fortunately or unfortunately, I lost the habit of going to second hand CD stores because of the current digital world. I still miss the touch of a nice cover, so today, I went back digging in my library and rediscovered Rachel's "Music for Egon Shiele". I remember now why I got so mad about this trio. Emotionally and musically strong, the music had been created for a play about the painter. Ten years ago, I wasn't so used to research online, so I did it today, and learned that the band was working on a new project, that their last album went out on 2003, last toured in 2005... I simply decided to join their mailing list, because I don't want to read ten years later that they came to play in Belgium in a very nice and cosy hall... (Yes, I've missed Jeff Buckley like that... no comment...). Those of you who would like to discover the band, which I strongly recommend, visit their website ... and be patient, I'm sure they will come up with some new great project, album, tour dates or anything... until then you can start by discovering them.

In Love Again!

First, I got excited when I learned that she was going on a European tour, even more when we got tickets for her Parisian show... then not anymore after it. Tori Amos had disappointed me a lot that evening of June at the Palais des Congrès. Maybe we were sitting too far, maybe we were expecting too much we thought... then Werchter came by. Me and my sweetheart have decided to give her another chance, because she's worth it, also because he saw her in Istanbul in 2005 and was quite amazed by her performance, but also because we simply love her music.

After a quite good Interpol concert on the main stage, we grabbed some fruit salad (yes yes, they're also selling healthy food at Werchter!) and headed on the Pyramid Marquee at around 5.45pm, with one single purpose: get in front to see Tori from the closest place possible. And we did it (after having listened to Frank Black screaming like hell and Damien Rice's fans doing the same in an even worse way... well, I can't decide which was worse, anyway, we deserved to be in front)!

11.30PM, a crazy brunette wearing a flashy green dress with plastic-like black tights arrived on stage with a superbly strong "Cruel", announcing more than a Pipesque but Toriesque gig. After "Teenage Hustling", Pip has spitted her "Fat Slut" and more, then leaving the stage for a few minutes to give more space to our Tori.

Beautifully mastering her Bösendorfer, given the full if not more of herself , Ms Amos has literally amazed her audience. Starting with a dynamic "Big Wheel", going through a mesmerizing "Cornflake Girl", she ended her one hour and ten minutes long festival show with a touchy "Precious Things". A stage goddess, a powerfully sensitive woman, a stunning artist, we got our Tori back. That night, we fell in love again with our dream-like musician, and like every person in love, we can't wait to see her again... and again... and again...

Festival on fire!

After having seen Marilyn Manson, Björk, Joan as a Policewoman and Oi Va Voi at Werchter on Thursday and Friday, we've decided to move to a slightly different musical atmosphere and went to Couleur Café on Saturday. After an amazing opening concert with Rachid Taha, we went out of the Titan hall to grab some food specialties from around the world. We just had our Burrito and Chili con carne when one of the buildings at Turn and Taxis started burning. It just took a few seconds before the whole roof went on fire. A quite horrible view, especially with people photographing it... (I will never understand this voyeuristic behavior). The festival goers were all asked to leave, and the evacuation went on very softly, without any problem. So we went back home and decided to listen to the radio until there were some broadcast officially saying the festival would open back its doors, which has been the case at 9pm! So we went back to Turn and Taxis, and we weren't the only ones... as thousands of people were entering the festival site quite peaceful and joyfully... well, in the Couleur Café spirit! We ate a little bit more... food is so delicious over there, then we listened to Yuri Buenaventura and watched the fireworks (yes yes, like everybody, we even enjoyed it...). When Ziggy Marley got on stage, we decided it was time for us to move back home and get some sleep to be ready for our fourth festival day back at Werchter. More about Rock Werchter on the next post.

Musical weekend...

... kickin' off TOMORROW!!

It's gonna be a great weekend, first with Werchter, on Thursday, Friday and Sunday, with a stop in-between at Couleur Café on Saturday. Hang on Björk, Marylin Manson, Johan as Police Woman, Rachid Taha, Ziggy Marley, Interpol etc... we'll be there! And a very special thought to Tori Amos, being so disappointed by her concert in Paris three weeks ago, we're really looking forward to see her again so we can go on loving and listening to her maddly like we used to!

After rock and world music, we'll move forward to jazz in Ghent and Rotterdam... Festival months in Belgium and around... soooo nice!

Look 10 Years Younger!

I was walking in the street, coming back home from a quiet end- of- the- season- working- day at BOZAR, and I saw a magazine in the window of a bookshop with a "LOOK 10 YEARS YOUNGER" printed in huge red-pinkish letters on the naked shoulder of a beautifully photoshop-ed creature. I couldn't help but think, why? Why should I look 10 years younger? Because I'm only 28, well yes, that's one point, but even if I were 38, or 48 or 58.... can anyone give me just one reason why one should LOOK whatever years, months, even seconds younger? Trying hard, I could see one good though... if looking younger can make you get all those years back and do whatever you wanted to do but couldn't, or correct any mistake or whatever... then maybe, there could be a point. Still, I did a lot of mistakes between 18 and 28, but I wouldn't change one bit of my life, because what I am today is because of what I did during the years that preceded my present age. And to the editors of these cheaply repetitive women's magazines, I would like to suggest searching for new topics, because one thing I'm sure of, is that for the last 10 years, I haven't read any other headline than "Look 10 Years Younger" or "Weight 10 Pounds less" and their billion of paraphrased versions. So, glossy piece of paper, you can go on trying to put some more imperatives on your cover for a few more decades, but you will always fail with me, because the older I'm gonna get, the less I would want to read how I can look younger. And yes, aging means dying in a way, but looking younger is not going to stop the process, but being ashamed of one's age, therefore of one's self, will certainly not help living one's own decades.

Girl Talk from Brussels to Antwerp enzovoort...

Five girls, all of them having worked together at least at one moment of their careers, in the same office, for the same purpose. Each of these girls are going through different experiences, aging 24, 28, 33 and 37, one has two children, three of them none, and one has a baby on the way... And what do these girls talk about? Babies, guys, love, sex, friends, work, politics, leisure, culture... ? Well all of it, mixed in between salads and home-made speculoos ice-cream! Conversing both in Dutch and French, but most importantly, in sincerity and simplicity. It is indeed that easy just to enjoy being together. And that's the way I like my friendships. Lieve, Leen, Stéphanie and Eve-Marie, thank you for being here and there... from Brussels to Antwerp enz.

Black Pearls in my cup

I live in an amazing neighborhood. The Saturday market on the parvis, the Librairie de Rome on the Jean Stas street next to the Avenue Louise where we love to weekly buy The Guardian and El Pais, and right in front of it, our coffee place, where we buy our coffee and where, for the first time, we sat to drink a great Jamaicain Blue Mountain, reading our freshly bought newspapers.
This place is one real great coffee place serving and selling coffees from everywhere around the world. I strongly encourage all of you who would visit Brussels to have a cup (or more) there. Not only is the coffee great, but the owner and his staff are so welcoming that you could spend hours there just drinking coffee and reading, in a black and brown, jazzy and very chic but not arrogant a bit atmosphere. The place is une petite perle as we could say in French... transforming beans into pearls.

Perle Noire
Shop Louise
Rue Jean Stasstraat 13
B- 1060 Brussels
info@perlenoire.be

Yesterday...

... was my birthday. Yesterday, was no special day, but it was still like no other. Not because of my birthday but because none of my days look like each other. But I still wanted to be a birthday girl and act like a kid, happy to receive gifts and calls and messages... I got the first one live at midnight... then the morning began with some unnecessary ones, reminding me how hypocritical families can be. Not caring a bit, I went to work, where I received presents from my dear colleagues (thanks guys for initiating me to dutch literature... after French, English, Spanish and Turkish... I'm finally going to read a novel in Dutch! I'll let you know how it went on in a next- not soon- post).

Going back home with my arms full of yellow flowers, I celebrated my birthday my own way in the streets of Saint-Gilles, first by offering a flower to the neighborhood's homeless who immediately shared the gift with his dog, then by stopping by the café where the owner (I guess he's Italian) immediately greeted me... the Italian way :)

Arriving to my final destination, home, I found myself covered with other gifts; my little brother's presence and outstanding mark for his French exam (8/10 for a kid who doesn't like to read ... that's an achievement!); another bouquet (white flowers, thanks again sweet, I love them) and a Marcolini pastry (no need to mention anything about this!!), and and... you don't need to have the whole list. Yes, I agree, I am lucky. But wait until you hear the end of the story... The next step for the evening was going to my dad's place, but when we arrived at the car, nothing seemed to work, the battery had been emptied! Our fault, we forgot to switch off a light inside the car. So we called dad so he could help us out with this... he played hero-dad of course and tried to push the car down the way... well, it didn't work out and we finally got to call a cab to help us fill up the battery with a bunch of cables (don't ask me how it works... I simply don't care). And we were finally ready to go at 9.30pm. What we did? Just hang out, stay together, have some laughs, playing with the kittens... just be together, for a not so special but still very nice day.

Patti and the Rabbits

Such a perfect day!

9 o'clock in the morning, I'm running to the Kaaitheater. Right outside the metro station, I'm meeting the most beautiful rabbit in the world. It was black and tiny, so little I could hide it in my hands. Afraid that it might get lost or killed while trying to cross the street, I slowly approached it, thinking where I could possibly take it when... without leaving me another second to think, it disappeared in its closed garden.

After my short but nice encounter with the black rabbit, I got back to work and ten hours later, I was standing in front of the Ancienne Belgique, where I did another great encounter... Patti Smith was just going out of the building, her camera in hand, ready to take amazing clichés of my city! While she went out, I got in. Our exchange had begun and went on one and a half hour later... and for the next two hours after that...

During the I- have- absolutely- no- words- to- explain -concert, I found myself with another rabbit... Alice's or Charlotte's, through the voice of Patti, the white rabbit was everyone's. But I felt even higher knowing that I had already begun my day with my own rabbit.

I'm glad I've spend it with you...

Crazy how it fell last night...

What do Rage Against the Machine, Audioslave and Dave Matthews Band have in common? You may say many, starting with "music", then adding "good" to it, or you may not... anyway, for last night, they had one guitarist in common: Tom Morello. First as an opening act, performing his first solo album (very far from what he previously did with his friends...), then he joined Dave and his breathtaking band for two songs: "#41 " and "Satellite". No one can say the opposite: he was damn good! And the rest of the three hours concert had been dream-like. I had to look at my beloved to make sure it was real! Either him nor I couldn't believe we were finally seeing and listening to Carter, Doyd, Leroi, Stefan and Dave live. From "Don't drink the water" to "Two Step", going through "Crash into me" and "Crush" (click here for the complete set list), Dave Matthews Band has captivated the although -not -full -but -crazy -Forest-National -audience. If from the 8,000 available seats only 6,500 were taken, those present made as much noise as for 13,000! Size doesn't matter, indeed. We're now impatiently waiting for the next European tour... Life is short but sweet for certain!

The Cell Phone

In less than three hours, I will be at the most important press conference of the year at BOZAR, as the organizer.... which makes it quite stressful I might say. This morning, I dressed up quite quickly (yes, I did!), and I left home in peace, knowing that when I will come back, I will see the same but also each time different, beautiful smile and face. Stepping on the tramway, I figured out I forgot my cell phone, but it was too late to get back. I've arrived at the office at 8:50, and at 9:01, got a call from the reception: "There's a young man here who brought you your cell phone". My heart began to beat like if I were going to meet him for the first time. He was standing in front of the reception desk, with his red shirt and black sweater on. A marvellously good-looking guy with his hair "en bataille"... the "out of bed" hair every Tony & Guy fan would like to have. He handed me my phone, I embraced him and felt like the happiest girl in the world. Not because of the phone, just because of him. Then I stepped back in my office, looking at my colleague and saying "He's the sweetest man on earth, an angel, I love him so much".

Audrey Hepburn VS Truman Capote

I agree, these two are far from being comparable, with only one thing in common, artistically speaking... Breakfast at Tiffany's. Everybody knows the movie, and even if never read, also the book. Well, I happened to experience both within two days. Hepburn is quite stunning indeed, but Capote's story has nothing to do with the movie. Of course, a movie is never like the book it is based on (it's always worse if you ask me). But here, apart from Audrey Hepburn's acting and beautiful black dress, I couldn't see a slight interest in the movie. I'm quite glad I read the book right after, the movie was enjoyable but the book is quite a masterpiece. And since one has nothing to do with the other (except for some character names and dialogues), it was easy to ignore the movie while reading the book. I would therefore easily say Hepburn and Capote are ex-aequo... even if on fairly different levels.

Autopsy on a female soul

It was quite clear from the beginning,
it was just a physical matter.
That's what he said
"It's just sex"
It's not his fault
if you have feelings.
He's not supposed to see what's inside you.
So leave,
run,
go away before you fall.
Go away, run, leave,
or you'll be sorry after.
Don't take any risk and
run before he leaves.
Loneliness is something you know,
don't you?
So leave, go away, run.
Let's run away together love.
Let's leave them.
Let's just go, let us go
life.
It's midnight already.
Cindirella's waiting.
She lost her shoe. No one's getting it. No one will find it anymore.
You'll wait forever Cindirella,
for a shoe that will never come.
It's five past midnight,
Cindirella isn't waiting anymore.

From the Panama Diaries

3.01.2007
Coronado beach, Panama

Deniz kenarinda oturuyorum, günesten gölgeye geçtim. Biliyorsun fazla dayanamiyorum günesin altinda kalmaya...ancak kuruyana kadar. Okyanusa bakiyorum, kulagimda Eykah Badu "He became the sun I became the moon", ve karsimda çok eski bir balikçi teknesi. Hayatimda böylesini görmemistim, sanki eski bir filmden firlamis gibi! Pastan rengi garip bir kahveye dönüsmüs ve kanatlanir gibi demirleri her iki yandan çikarak sularin üzerinden bakiveriyor atlayan baliklara. Kuslar tünemis direklerin her bir yanina. (Bu arada iPod'umu ilk kez shuffle'a aldim ve çok güzel sürprizlerle karsilasiyorum). Kendi dünyama kapaniyorum, etrafimda insanlar konusuyor, oynuyor, bebek fotograflari çekiyor sürekli (tanrim, bundan daha yorucu bir aktivite olabilir mi?). Dalgalar gittikçe daha yakina vuruyor. Balikçi teknesi ise uzaklasiyor, koynunda baliklar, kollarinda kuslarla birlikte.
Uzun zamandir özgür olmak için içime kapanma ihtiyaci duymamistim, susmayi. Sessiz olup kendi kendime olmayi. "Rahat birakin, istemiyorum, evet eglence size göre bu ama benim için yanliz kalmak sikilmak anlamina gelmiyor". Bunu ama anlatamazsin, insanlar bos seylerden hoslaniyor, bizim zevk aldigimiz seyler ise bos geliyor onlara. Anlatmak gereksiz, sende biliyorsun. Balikçi teknesi kayboldu, okyanus ise kumsali iyice islatarak bizide yavasça kovuyor. Sesimi tek duyan oymus demek.

Oh Belgium! ... Lovely Holiday Country!

Sitting on my couch still in my PJ's on a Thursday morning at 11 o'clock, am I ill? Hell no! The whole country (and even Europe I guess) is celebrating Jesus's bodily ascension to Heaven... As a Muslim, I might say I enjoy it pretty much! But what my sweet second (or first? Don't know anymore) country (Belgium, for those of you who will still have some doubts) offers ... is an extra day off on Friday, which makes the weekend not two but four days long. Isn't this brilliant? "Le pont" they call it here (because they put a bridge between the official day off and the weekend). Well now, I'm enjoying it, even if sometimes I do think they are exaggerating, not when my office gets closed, but when supermarkets are for instance, but as we say in French "On ne peut pas avoir le beurre et l'argent du beurre"! So, thank you Jesus for showing us the way to fly away from work!

Mastering the fact of not being a native speaker of whatever language

"We are sorry, but your application cannot be accepted because you are not a native English speaker"... This is the sad answer that a good friend of mine, native from Panama, raised and educated both in Spanish and English, gets to hear from some European Commission employee to her application for an internship... How do they expect to evolve with such a narrow minded view on today's world, especially in a place like Europe where people, cultures and therefore languages are continuously intermingling? Even if not from birth (still, at least two languages are spoken in many families), languages can be learned and mastered through education and practice. I cannot believe that one can only write in one's own native language (I wonder how Nabokov would have answered to such a stupid assessment). I was myself raised in Turkish, educated in French then in English and Spanish, using Dutch in everyday life and at work. I do not master all of these languages in the same way of course, but I couldn't accept anyone limiting my capacities in writing, thinking, understanding or communicating in any way, to my native tongue, which isn't actually one but two. Nothing rare here, nothing impossible and certainly nothing extraordinary. When Elif Shafak, a writer who was born in France, lived in Spain, studied in Turkey and the United States, writes novels in Turkish and in English, I can just applaud her. It is a richness and not a mistake to be able to write in as many languages as one masters. The key word, as you may have understood, is not "being native" but rather "mastering", and the same goes for everything, far beyond languages.