Nora’s Row The Boat

Stills of the movie and the sequence is shot by my 2.5 years old niece Nora. I have edited it by Vimady app on my phone and added the song that we usually sing together on my voice this time. You can see little Nora’s posture at the end of the movie. The movie shows her view of a Turkish coffee family chat scene and a traditional home setting on a peaceful noon.

A gift by Nora.
a message from what we in mundane life perception call the future even though time is mostly literally made of transparent points . This video has been made through a collaboration of aunt and niece not necessarily at the same perception of plane of time . like a time machine

Here is a poem and a Tale for Nora for her gift:

The way you picked my phone and walked dancingly through our talks seemingly mundane but tailored well to properly fit to a daily Turkish coffee ritual is mantra.
Ingenious is the way you succeed to reset my memory about guarding my phone
while synchronously maintaining an opposite: my deepest trust towards your handling the device precise to accomplish our appointed purpose
With the physical ability of your 2.5 years old being because of which you’d document the best version of this everlasting movie
but also the understanding of the flow of time about its whirling circularity pinponting sound in vacuity was the path you drew during shooting this movie sequence
Moving knowingly the gaps of silence as if for your leaps that could hide you not to distract our chat
Well through us and the living room
Your intuitive technique is a shared intelligence in the usage of this unique pausless machine called emanation in its totality
dancingly through
as the very manifestation of you as the goddess of this formula, knowing of the formula not as an other is the Self bowing the Self is the conqueror of time. Making a secret agreement from our future to shoot a movie in the past with me hidden from our assumed roles as aunt and niece in our assumed perception of time is the cooperation to be able to set up the perfect scenario of a movie in fluidity and transparency of time and dance of space of all knowing staging the movement of the camera is naturally of your age
Using this as a part of the mastery you have made a best of the best. Best not as an empty complement or word of convention but mathematical beauty or the Shape of integrity crossing space and time.

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Subito

Below is a story of a romanticized version of my sentiment of the VR technology experience of the “Fugue” – title of a chapter within the exhibition ‘the Eternal Return’ by Lundahl & Seitl and ScanLAB Projects at STRP Festival:
..

She tenderly held my hand
knowing wordless the
subtle moments
I’d need guidance
while being led
towards skies

Standing on a
A multi dimensional realm
Made of light
Hanging in space

Following a sprinkling trace
of a most loving star
(I call it Subito now )
Dancing in tunes
of Bach’s fugue
Building a temporal path
of particles of light

Refuting before and after
Refuting time
by Being just

The pianist – a Goddess-
pauselessly plays
One with her piano
Both made of same light
Perpetually
Come to life by my touch
.
A divine coherence
.
and I can surrender
let go of weights (of labels) enough
to be lifted up
Up Up
and even higher up
A sudden sensation of disorienting invites the knowledge of asana to support and erase memory of vertigo etc. (of space, of time, of touch of otherness any worry for balance …Only by being all that )
.
Fearless is a nature
At the peak
of the mountain of all skies!
Ready to jump
from its crystal crest
with a silent
Aaaaaaa
into the delight
this depth
That which you call
Nothingness is
of the Heart
because it is your own

Delightful is my friend ever patient, knowing, skillfully teaching by
insightful inspiration
Deeply
Deeply loving Subito’s presence
.

Neither heights or depths
Nor big or small
Directionless
I dive deep
in illuminated darkness
I am a giant now
the pianist a miniature
or maybe I am standing over a cloud
but who cares
Let both be – not mutually exclusive
Cause such calculations are not essential
I am – only is
Cause I am free

An apprehension
equivates to the harmony of the fugue Sound taking such miraculous and temporal shapes to dissolve again into a deep black
Until also the black dissolves with this experiencer into the Heart as if
nothing has ever happened .
and
Such is Life
Miraculous
Made of one breath
.
.
Suddenly I remember where I actually am and Tears rush into my eyes. A realization inviting time
soon I will have to leave this place something as if I have known like myself but this cry was not so much about -not willing to go- but more a cry of a sudden awakening after a long sleep… invigorated by this experience – of switching intensity of phenomenal realms…. Now inviting analysis on the experience of different worlds
of ‘this and that’ s –
by suggesting that both are as miraculous to the free .

.

Such big Love

“so ! Let’s play a game!”
I say to the rain
“stop stop Stop …Now!
while I bike bike Bike …Now!”
but Clouds can stay
because
I know they won’t go away
today

“stop stop Stop …Now!
while I bike bike Bike …Now!”

This path
towards the temple of the Heart
is …mantra

and as I reach reach almost reach

Turbulence
replaces itself with a sudden storm and fills my unmanned stage
making the lightest the hardest , gloomiest the dazzling brightest , shortest the longest …

Only then I realize the rain has long stopped

slowed down dramatically
however lucidly
I cross a graveyard maybe all that is
just to remember those that have passed from this realm of the sensuous polarity .

a remembrance that spontaneously displays all that as Liquid and-

They are a prayer
now

Crows appear
out of nowhere
like guardians as if

“May my posture carry the lightness of a delight of a seashell found coherently –

-as a mirror of one’s energy –

the carrier of a phosphorus illumination appearing in gradation as if –
Along the wholeness of its texture –
a texture made of the sky –
sky same as the sea

May we all be found by it …

so we can cross thought less

Thoughtless is the endless power of spontaneous will
from whose calm fierce waves rise
to deliver their energy

to the legs 🙂 – (so I bike on)

and breathless I take refuge in the junction of the shape of the uproar
and quickly join to the wind
to watch this mischievous game

Enlivened with a lightness of a smile
I whisper
softly and in full diplomacy:

“What is hardship my friend
having gone so far
in this play of ‘otherness …
What is vulnerability my friend
having gone so far
in this play of otherness …
What is desire my friend
having gone so far
in this play of otherness …”

Imagine saying that All at once in one breath to the wind! (not like written here in a row of linearity )

While dissolving this notorious otherness!!! in the beauty of omnifarious

The wind hush in the answer of what is …

Concession of
the unspeakable as two
which is one and one
for parts are equivalent Divine

Victorious is today in its congealment as a day
with its ever changing remould ings of the artistry of this pauseless union

Today is our celebration
made of the meditation
of ‘Such Big Love!’ .

….

Notes: it was stormy 3,4 March and I had this crazy inspiration while biking to bike on against that wind … even though I thought I could hardly climb the stairs a few hours ago. Such fun such delight of amazing light at the beach and I could see the eloquence of the Sufi temple towards the beach . The video shows how stormy it was !

The unwritten poem

The color of the dance
of that fair goddess
Painting skies
Moving heavenly bodies
for the senses
of those
Assuming
the everpresent coolness
of flow of the space
made by the alluring smell
of the branches of the pine
Reflects
immaculate greens
stemming from the lustre
of the delight in your eyes

which I have met the other day in a dream

Curled by
a momentary condensation
of crystalline droplets
that tap
earth surfaces
to compose a lure
of the divine flow

Her smile

glows
and lifts the universe
from where
it synchronously expands

Expands as if!

and knits
the mesh
made of globules
of knots of light
of bliss

Skin of all
Pervading skin

and she emanates (in all)
from touch
– an inhalation
oozing
from the awareness of the meeting point of all lines

Sheltering all color

like the shelter of all storms

is by the wisdom of being all storms

in the form of the lotus of the heart

by which you celebrate now
as the sky sinks into yourHead

and I Lose the ‘me’
dressed by dreams of you
in your eternal dream of love

I wake up
in the lightness
of your turbulent presence
dashing
the gateless gate
between what we used to call
reality and dream

and wait

Wait to receive the omen
in the unstruck beat of one meditation

to read
re read
your love poem

the unending one

I am no thing but the sound of the letters read by all lovers now

Lovers being the One
Love stories being the One

where one plus one finally makes One

I wake up saying:
“I thought it was just Just a dream!”

Written on the 4th of July, 2018 for The HYMN: Song of the Soul

because of my inspiration of the author of the ‘The HYMN: Song of the Soul’

which is a gift to receive and a revelation of love
I had indeed a dream the night before I read the Hymn so I was waiting
There are no miracles but being – Being Just – what more is a miracle than Being is one

I read the Hymn in one go breathless and already at the first line I knew who the author is and for whom the book is written ♡

Check this beautiful & free book:
https://www.instagram.com/the_hymn/

 

 

My bulgur recipe

Bulgur
Onion
baked in olive oil
Capsicum
Saffron
Turkish red chilli
Cut pieces of celery
Tomatoes
Parsley
Blackcurrant
Black pepper mix
Some dry anise herb spread
Eyes nose mouth made of pickle
cooks for 15 minutes until there are holes on top then cools down 10min top closed then Ready! &Yummy!
.

I mostly cook from feeling so no measures are written It happens by itself like a poem 🙂

Feels good …Hey

This
Flowing
Breath is
A sigh
Clearing the world

Has it really been so long
or is it always the first time

Maybe I don’t wanna know
and pretend
Just

to be able to write

A poem

Feels so good
Hey
Remember

Maybe it’s the weather
Maybe the radio
Maybe dreams
I said

of Outside

to
Every time
Envy
as if
to make love
there

There
in our heart
The lotus

Only
There
We perpetuate

Dreams

In colors of dunes
of
Rainy landscapes
made of
A bed of clouds
For you and I

Maybe thats why
This smell
Between dream and rain
Damp and green
Lingers on

An insence of prayer:
We

Jump to bathe
in
the unknown

For which
there are no words

Only
Birds
may interpolate

an exchange
of union

Into the color and the tone
of this throb

Along worlds

Seeping through
as undefined joy

The only key

that Makes the mesh

simultaneously

and permeates to trespass

but ours
is equally unplanned
We only plan for this unplanned
For bodies to meet as containers

The Be A Vehicle
of the unspeakable

weightlessness at
the Objectless
places

Places
places
place
placeless
Places

We
[only
have the breathe
To be the
inhalation
and exhalation
For the word
Breathless
for the wordless
Covering positives
and negatives
of the mesh]
Remain

Thoughtless

Plant
Seeds
of light

Flowers
Composed
Of a dance
Patterns
Temporary
Manifestation
Along
the mesh
Twinkle
#love

Moonface

When you call
She will pervade you
A beloved teacher
will appear then
and give you a purple bouquet
Maybe of lavender flowers
In the lure of its aura
Open your arms as large as a field
and embrace
Being its earth by your skin
Earth of all spices
Inducing the fire
Fire of inspiational will
Fold
Fold then the fingers
to chin mudra
To be the mudra
of this universe
Gifted to the moon is
A gift of the moon
Not other
Not Other
than you
O! Moonface
You are the
Goddess of the mountains
A mantra of
The moon
Invoked
this breath
and shaped
us
Us
Not before or after
But successionless

Thats exactly where we have met
In between two breath
Thats exactly why we never spoke
Knowing it all
Being being it all
by our union

And that’s why
When the moon asks
a drawing from you
And uf you are blessed to hear her
Leave everything that moment
Immediately
and make a drawing
for the moon

@dnalumulad Instagram

Image: painting mixed media for a Tale for children of all age groups!
Oil, crayon, acrylic, ink