A working example of me making sense of home through images I took in Turkey against words of my grandmother and grandfather I never met, notes from a younger version of my mother I never met, and words from a version of myself that feels like we never met. A collusion of time in conversation with one another. It feels fitting since I’ll be journeying back to Germany, potentially for the last time with my parents living there to help them pack.
All the photos I took in Turkey were in my mother’s hometown of Lüleburgaz, damaged from a bellow light leak. I despised them because of the condition my brain created to think what is acceptable. I then thought: a camera will never lie about what’s going on in your heart. From that, I became very curious of them. Which started the early stages of a memory-induced tale. These words, an excerpt of a longer piece that will soon change, just as malleable as the memories we think we know.
the beginnings of the beginnings, pt. 1
/jm