Sanat Mozaik

[Terraluna]

Amerikali psikolog, yazar ve ogretmen Marshall Rosenberg’un dogum yildonumu (6 Ekim 1934)

“Bir sokak lambasinin altinda, elleri dizleri uzerine cokmus yerde birseyler arayan adamla ilgili bir hikaye vardir. Oradan gecen polis, adama ne yaptiginiı sorar. Hafif sarhos gorunen adam, ‘Arabamin anahtarini ariyorum.’ der. Polis de ‘Onu burada mi dusurdun?’ diye sorar. Adam, ‘Hayır’ der. ‘Ara sokakta dusurdum.’ Adam polisin ona saskin bir ifadeyle baktigini farkedince hemen ekler: ‘Ama burası daha aydınlık.’ “ Siddetsiz Iletisim



“There is a story of a man on all fours under a street lamp, searching for something. A policeman passing by asked what he was doing. ‘Looking for my car keys,’ replied the man, who appeared slightly drunk. ‘Did you drop them here?’ inquired the officer. ‘No,’ answered the man, ‘I dropped them in the alley.’ Seeing the policeman’s baffled expression, the man hastened to explain, ‘But the light is much better here.’ “



“Bir kriz aninda bir araya gelip bayragi dalgalandirarak yurtseverligimizi gostermek onemli degildir; dunyayi defalarca ortadan kaldirabilecek kadar silahlanmis bir super guc olmak yetmez; askeri gucumuzle dunyanin geri kalanini dize getirmek de yeterli degildir, cunku baris korku temeli uzerine kurulamaz.”



“It is not important that we come together in a moment of crisis-and show our patriotism by flying the flag; it is not enough that we become a superpower by building an arsenal that can destroy this earth several times over; it is not enough that we subjugate the rest of the world through our military might, because peace cannot be built on the foundations of fear. “

[Terraluna]

Rus ressam Alexander Shilov'un dogum gunu (6 Ekim 1943)

Autoritratto (Self portrait, 1997)

[Terraluna]

Agatha Christie'nin Fare Kapani (The Mousetrap -Trappola per topi) oyunu 6 Ekim 1952 tarihinde Nottingham, Theatre Royal'de basladi.

[Terraluna]

Turk sair ve yazar Ayten Mutlu’nun dogum gunu (6 Ekim 1952)



Agir olumlerdik hizin kanatlarında
sadece korkuydu bizi besleyen
atesin agziında yasiyorduk govdeyi
teni adimliyorduk atesin kullerinde
geceden sonrayi hic bilmiyorduk
unutmustuk nasil sevdigimizi
yarali hayvanlardi asklarimizda
yarali hayvanlardi asklarimizda
kendimizi otekiyle degisiyorduk
cogaldi yuzlerimiz azligimizda
baskasiydik baskasinibilmeyen
ne coktuk, var miydik, saniyorduk
uzun yolduk, yorulduk sesimizi
ormanlari gomup dallarimiza
sessizligin koklerinde uyuduk
curudu sessizlikte koklerimiz de
degmeden oksadik etin yilanlarini
sanal sevismelerin karanliginda
kalbimize buzdan satolar kurduk
satolarin buz tutmus kalplerinde
govdenin agzindan opuyorduk atesi
yarali hayvanlardik inlerimizde
korkuydu kanimizin yorgun bekcisi
korkuydu bekleyen kanimizin evini
zamani yitirdik an’a SIKISTIK
mermeri tirmaliyor icimizdeki hayvan
tumcesini yirtan bir kagit gibi
kagidini yirtan saskin bir tumce gibi
sokuyoruz hayatin ilmeklerini
giyecek ben’imiz yok yalandan baska



We were the heavy deaths on the wings of speed
it was only fear feeding us
in the mouth of the fire we were living the body
we were stepping the skin through the ashes of the fire
we didn’t know after of the night at all
we had forgotten how we loved
our loves were also the wounded animals
we were the wounded animals in our loves
we were exchanging ourself with the others
our faces multiplied on our fewness
we were the others who didn’t know the others
we were too many, did we exist, we assumed
we were a long way, we got tired our voice
we buried our forests in our branches
and slept at the roots of silence
our roots also decayed in silence
we caressed the snakes of the flesh without touching
we built the ice chateaus in our hearts
in the darkness of imaginary love makings
in the frosty hearts of chateaus
we were kissing the fire on the mouth of the body
we were the wounded animals in our caverns
the tired watchman to our blood was fear
it was fear watching to the house of our blood
we lost the time and got stuck in the moment
the animal inside us is clawing the marble
like a paper tearing its sentence
like a bewildered sentence tearing its paper
we are ripping the slipknots of life out
we have no ego to wear but lie

[Terraluna]

Amerikali sanat tarihcisi Bernard Berenson’in olum yildonumu (6 Ekim 1959)



“Dehayi, kisinin kendisine verilen egitime karsi cikan, uretken baskaldiri ve gizli gucu olarak tanimliyoruz.”




“Mucizeler, onlara inananlarin basina gelir.”

[Terraluna]

Stanley Kubrick’in yonettigi, Kirk Douglas, Laurence Olivier ve Jean Simmons’in rol aldigi Spartakus (Spartacus) 6 Ekim 1960’da New York’ta gosterime girdi.

[Terraluna]

Terrence Malick'in yonettigi, Richard Gere, Brooke Adams ve Sam Shepard’in rol aldigi romantik drama Cennet Gunleri (Days of Heaven - I giorni del cielo), 6 Ekim 1978’de Amerika’da vizyona girdi.

[Terraluna]

1956 yilinda Pulitzer Odullunu kazanan Amerikali sair Elizabeth Bishop'in olum yildonumu (6 Ekim 1979)



Labrador sarisidir, hulyali Eskimo'nun
yagladigi yer. Bu sevilesi koylari oksayabiliriz,
cicek acmalari beklenir sanki bir camin altinda,
ya da sanki gorunmez baliklara temiz bir kafes olurlar.
Sahil kasabalarinin adlari dokulur denize,
komsu daglari kesen kentlerin adlari
hani nedenini kat be kat asar ya cosku
iste boylesi bir heyecani duymustur burada matbaaci.
Bu yarimadalar iki parmak arasinda alirlar suyu
depo kumaslarinin duzlugunu hisseden kadinlar misali.



Gemidense buzdagimiz olsun isterdik,
seyahatin sonu demek olsa da bu.
Orada bulutsu bir kaya gibi hareketsiz durmasina ragmen
ve kipirtili bir mermerken butun deniz



We'd rather have the iceberg than the ship,
although it meant the end of travel.
Although it stood stock-still like cloudy rock
and all the sea were moving marble.



Yapraga tirmanirken gordun mu bir tirtili,
en kenara tutunusunu, havada donusunu,
etrafi yoklamasini bir seye erismek icin? Hala
havaya asiyor musun kelimelerini, on yildir
bitirilmemis, panona yapistirilmis halde, eksikleri
veya hayali imkansiz o cumlecik icin birakilmis bosluklariyla –
Sen hic samayan esin perisi, rastgeleyi mukemmel kilan sen?



Have you seen an inchworm crawl on a leaf,
cling to the very end, revolve in air,
feeling for something to reach to something? Do
you still hang your words in air, ten years
unfinished, glued to your notice board, with gaps
or empties for the unimaginable phrase–
unerring Muse who makes the casual perfect?