Just a Photo (Istanbul, Turkey)

This won't be a long post because, occasionally, you can say all that you need to say without the establishment of a hardened, lengthy manifesto (though, I've certainly done that before when reflecting on life in Istanbul). If my blog is a suppository of my ideas, and I in turn decide the format, then I suppose anything goes. And so I'll follow the waves of morning caffeine softly encouraging me and put a little something together, regardless of this posts yet determined arrangement.

What I want to convey is this - as an expat resident of Istanbul, I feel as if I'm almost always swimming upstream against a current of warnings, worries, and bad news. That's not to suggest that it's not somewhat substantiated (it is), but, as far as the media is concerned, it is indeed the only side of the story.I find deep joy, intrigue, and comfort living in this city, and so when there are moments when I find myself in the eye of a proverbial media hurricane, I turn to my catalogue of photos to find solace in what I think of as the other side of the story. 

I take refuge in what I know to be true about the city because of the tangible evidence that I've personally collected.

Just last week, when another bombing occured in Istanbul, and I watched the front pages of the world's news sources light up (with the usual incorrigible ignorance), I turned to my photos again, and I found one that summed up so much for me. It was a photo I took surrounded by friends on a rooftop, and encapsulates why, for the foreseeable future, my feet are staying firmly planted here. It reminded me of what can happen here, the soft subtle moments that form my memories of the city that never make it to the BBC.

For me, it's amazing how much a picture can convey...