Impossibility of adopting the past as an utopia: Be the tiny sandals of Hittites for their tiny feet in Amasya, Anatolia or be the chasing here and there after one’s bondage to Mother Earth, which is indebted for this idea of bondage to 2nd Century AD. No matter how noble they are, as reflected in the manners we treat them in museums and stores, in most part they form a Junk-opia for our time. We are building roads, bridges, buildings by cutting the grandchilds of trees that had touched them; we dig through the mountains that their tiny feet placed themselves, leaving traces over the mud on a rainy day. When I seek for a new sanctuary, I nestle in the memory of the times when… Then I feel as if that same tree appears to me: “I am a close friend of Marcus Aurelius, as you are,” she murmurs.
BESTE GÜN ASLAN 