SUITCASE TO ISTANBUL
~ By Absolutely*Kate
I shall roam narrow streets and the courtyards of mosques and the Grand Bazaar and gaze soft in open awe upon the art of history and the history of art.
This heaven shall hail from the other side of the world which gave history her venerable start. A different communication shall consume me.
|Bosporus ~ ala EricTurner there before me|
I shall see ships upon the Bosporus and glide the Sea of Maramara, after traipsing turquoise shores of the Aegean, roaming Roman ruins in ancient Ephesus and the Kingdom of Pergamon. I'll accept the gifts of Troy, genuflect at the Blessed Virgin Mary's later life home and scamper over limestone cliffs before a hot splash in a sulfur spring when my luck becomes Pamukkale.
|Temple of Hadrian in Ephesus ala MBell|
I shall sip 80-proof Raki for is it not the state drink of this exotic place of wonder and who am I to offend? Which brings me ample reason then, to toast you, dear reader of what my spirit comes here to speak out in humble dance. (AND OH HOW I'LL DANCE!)
I shall have sensations and laughter and learning with a fellow traveler friend and I will be alluring and touch my beloved's face.
|Pamukkale ~ Hierapolis ala BurgundyMT|
I am going to Turkey as I write this. I will be in Turkey as most of you read this.
Upon my return I shall relate to you how came to be THE CURTAIN CALLER of Istanbul who began so veritably long ago, the fame of story tellers ~
Storytellers are you and me knowing all that we taste and sensate becomes new stories to 'tale'. My tales will be of wonders seen, heard, tasted, smelled, touched and sensed within. And I shall ask what is imperative to your senses and sensibilities.
I shall listen quite carefully to sensations and from whence they came and more significantly, where they are going.
Past Turkish writer and international literary award-winner Orhan Pamuk and his heartache of darkness where the blind man can watch snow fall (My Name Is Red), I shall open spirit to hearing the calls of hawkers and the cries of children in the streets. I shall bridge Europe and Asia and the past and the present, and art, culture and history in tempestuous and tender times.
And I shall bring that all back to America in pockets of my new suitcase which will not exceed 50 pounds so help me God. And I know now, this trip shall careen me further . . . in a softer shade of Bold.
|Aegean ala Turkey - MJHarrington|
I shall tale you
after I have seen
"Insallah" ~ God willing
"Gule Gule" ~ Goodbye
(c) 2010 from a broad abroad, Author Absolutely*Kate
exclusive AT THE BIJOU
The way fate likes to splash, at the simultaneous writing of this piece,
|ANTHONY GAVE THIS TO ME!|
the illustrious colleague of a wowzer of a WritingMan who knows how to come up the stairs from Bukowski's Basement ~ yes, the one, the only, Anthony Venutolo ~ granted me this most prestigious award. I'm honoured to write and read and glean and grow along with the spiffy, spunky, spectacular and sometimes pretty deep pileup of authors St Jon the Strother keeps congregating out to word'dance action come a Friday's Flash of Fiction. When my suitcase and myself return . . . I shall do Ant proud and pass the torch with flair ... or flare ... but for now, as I take to the air -- I tip my fine fedora (I do have one - Harry B. Sanderford gave it to me and Nelle for my birthday as our 'writing hat'.) to the man who can aptly insert a "rat-a-tat-tat" in the same verbiage as "a Thai hooker working overtime during Uncle Sam's occupaton circa 1944" and "eclectic flash" and "solemn poetry". Humbly Mr V ~ I'm so honoured to know thee and the entourage we seem to share in spirit. F. Scott Fitzgerald woulda pulled a flask outta his best hootch pocket with you anytime.
Deep Appreci'kation to Anthony, the #Friday Flashers for welcomin' my wading on in and all who take the art of words the farther the further ...
. . . Believing in Believers . . .