Hot and humid, sometimes the wind stops blowing. Surrounded by the steam in the air, the extreme humidity makes it feel like a rain cloud around your body. A personal small cloud all around you. Smells like a melancholic Sunday afternoon. The microscopic drops of water touch your skin. The damp smell rises from the soil, the dusty earth. It’s familiar; somewhere back in time, in one of those rainy days, overwhelmed by the power of loneliness, the smell has gotten stuck in my system. I keep drinking cold water, and wiping off my wet skin with a piece of napkin. This must be the parallel universe of my recent imaginations. Or, in other words, how everything would be when I’m not around; this is the close-up scene. My hands are on the wheel, and my eyes locked on the road, although, I’m not fully in control of the ride that I’m driving.
20.Sep.17 – Istanbul, Turkey