09/01/14: Lojman 79, Bilkent University, Ankara, Turkey
Gazing out the generous, great-room window of our ninth floor apartment, in one of the two tallest buildings atop this university hill site, I see a land of layers and contrasts. Military helicopters and the occasional fighter jet shatter the vast expanse of blue otherwise populated by a parade of lazy, well-fed clouds, troublesome pigeons, and brief invasions of acrobatic swallows.
In the middle ground, abstracted and romanticized by
distance and soft focus, sprawls the modern city with its bands of right angles
stacked and overlapping in cubist contrast to the bare brown hills that rise
above them and rim the scene with hints of the ancient hinterlands beyond.
In the foreground and directly below our window crouch an
unfortunate regiment of single-story factories, fronted and commanded by a
furniture company. Two mass graves of cut logs lie disrespectfully displayed to
the abutting crowds of pine trees mourning their fallen brethren from beyond a
barb wire fence. As if to drive home the allusion, several times an hour, a
smokestack beside these log piles belches a five-minute measure of black smoke
that rises like a ominous signal fire into the sky. I am thankful for how
quickly this stain on the horizon dissipates, thankful for the nearly constant
breeze that banishes it westward, so very thankful for this wind that rushes
into any open window or balcony door to cool my overheated core. I spent an
inordinate percentage of my first days here trying to devise methods and
systems to prop and secure these windows and doors in such a manner that they
will allow entry to this welcome air without getting slammed shut on its
equally imprudent exit. My kingdom for a simple, Western window, screened and
sashed for my convenience. Unfortunately, the ubiquitous use of concrete and
plaster in the building and framing here make traditional wood windows unlikely
if not impossible and screens a lavish afterthought.
But at least there's the view. I've never been as cognizant of the air over my head, as awed by cloud formations. The vast majority of the photos I've taken so far are of the view through our apartment window, hence the title of this blog. If nothing else, I'll leave this place a sky gazer.
But at least there's the view. I've never been as cognizant of the air over my head, as awed by cloud formations. The vast majority of the photos I've taken so far are of the view through our apartment window, hence the title of this blog. If nothing else, I'll leave this place a sky gazer.
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