Sanat Mozaik

**Terraluna** · 13-07-2019, 18:38

Turk oyku, roman, deneme yazari Bilge Karasu’nun olum yildonumu (13 Temmuz 1995)

“Bizans Imparatoru, ibadet yerlerindeki, manastirlardaki tum dini resimlerin kaldirilmasini emretmistir. Bu emirde Imparatorlugun Araplar tarafindan kusatilmasi, Bizans’in dogu topraklarindaki askerlerin de bu goruste olmasi ve Imparator’un dogu topraklarindaki askerlerine ihtiyaci olması gibi yan etkenler de etkili olmustur. Andronikos cocuklugundan beri alismis oldugu yasam, dolayisiyla inanc biciminden ayrilmak istemedigine karar verir.”

“When the Emperor of Byzantium orders the destruction of all religious paintings and icons, Constantinople is thrown into crisis. Fear grips the monastery where Andronikos, a young monk, is thrown into a spiritual crisis. Amidst stirrings of resistance he decides to escape, leaving behind his beloved Ioakim, who must confront his own crisis of faith and decide where to place his allegiance. The dualities of dogma and faith, individual and society, East and West, are embodied in a story of prohibited love and devotion to the unseen.”

**Terraluna** · 13-07-2019, 18:38

Metal Masters Metallica, 8. albumu St. Anger'dan Some Kind of Monster'i 13 Temmuz 2004'de Elektra etiketiyle yayinladi.

**Terraluna** · 13-07-2019, 18:39

1974'te Man Booker Odulunu, 1991'de Nobel Edebiyat Odulu'nu kazanan Guney Afrikali yazar Nadine Gordimer’in olum yildonumu (13 Temmuz 2014)

“Yalnizca yol kenarindaki yapraklari supuren copcu. Komsular gormus olabilir, ama bir hafta ici sabahinda herkes ya ise gitmistir ya da diger gundelik nedenlerle disaridadir. O, ailesinin evine vardiginda, kadin orada, park yeri girisinde gulumsuyordu ve birbirlerine sarilamayacak olmalarina neden olan bu tuhaf (ama gecici) durumu kabullenip dalga gecmeleri gerektigine dair isareti hemen hissetmisti. Gecmiste kalmis bir sarilma, gecmiste kalmis bir kucaklasmadan daha az duygusaldir. Her sey olagan. Copcu biten yazi supurerek geciyor. Isin saciyor. Kelimenin tam anlamiyla isin saciyor. Ama baslarinin uzerinde hale olan azizler gibi degil. Onu oldurmekte olan seyi tahrip etmek icin kullanilan zararli bir madde yuzunden cevresindekilere gorunmeyen tehlikeler saciyor. Sorun bogazindaydi. Tiroit bezi kanseri. Hastanede tecrit altinda tutuluyordu. Seslerden bile yalitilmisti; bir sure icin sesi yoktu, dilsizdi. Ses telleri de etkilenmis. Dokundugu her kim ya da ne olursa olsun, onlari yaydigi tehlikeye kontrolu disinda maruz birakiyor ve birakmaya devam edecek.” Yasamaya Bak

“Only the street-sweeper swishing his broom to collect fallen leaves from the gutter.The neighbours might have seen, but in the middle of a weekday morning everyone would be out at work or away for other daily-life reasons.She was there, at the parents' driveway gate as he arrived, able to smile for him, and quickly sense the signal for them to laugh at, accept the strangely absurd situation (only temporary) that they could not hug one another. A foregone hug is less emotional than a foregone embrace. Everything is ordinary. The sweeper passes pushing the summer's end before him .Radiant. Literally radiant. But not giving off light as saints are shown with a halo. He radiates unseen danger to others from a destructive substance that has been directed to counter what was destroying him. Had him by the throat. Cancer of the thyroid gland. In hospital he was kept in isolation. Even that of silence; he had no voice for a while, mute. Vocal cords affected. He remains, he will be still, out of his control, exposing others and objects to what he emanates, whomever and whatever he touches.”

**Terraluna** · 13-07-2019, 18:40

Yagdigini dusunuyorum onun
Kurakliktan saliverilmis diliyle
Agzinin acilmamis tepelerinden, dolarak
Yuklu mujdeyle,
Onun yukseldigini gordum
O apansiz bulutu, kuller icinden. Yerleserek
Bulustular kul rengi bir cemberde, icinde
Durmadan donen bir ruh.
Ah, o yagmali elbette
Akildaki bu kusatma tutmali bizi
Tuhaf kederler icinde, ogreterek
Kederin sessizligini.
Ve onun nasil cirpindigini
Urkutup saydam seyleri kanatlari ustunde
Bizim istediklerimizin, koyu ozlemleri yakiıp
Kacinilmaz vaftiz torenlerinde.
Yagmur dudukleridir calinan
Boyun egme inceliginde,buralardan uzakta.
Hala boyun egmeyen, bu, benim
Ciplak kayalari coken dunyamin
Bulusmasidir seninle.

Wole Soyinka

**Terraluna** · 13-07-2019, 18:41

"Nasil mi ogrendim? Ona yalan soyluyordum.

Kasim. Ders calisma iznindeydim. Son sinif ogrencilerine sinavlardan iki hafta once evde kalip sinava hazirlanma izni verilirdi. Bir arkadasin evinde ders calisacagimizi soyleyip sinemaya tuyuyordum. Bizleri ancak bir yildan bu yana sinemalara almaya baslamislardi; boylece cifte ozgurlugun tadini cikariyordum: dersi asmak ve Beyazlarin oturdugu bir banliyonun sinemasindaki kahverengi suni kadife koltukta oturabilmek. Babam pek varlikli degildi ama annemle babam, kiz kardesimle benim gencligimizi kendilerininki gibi parasizlik yuzunden heder etmek istemiyorlardi; bana verdikleri harclik, o gunlerdeki SIKISIKLIKLARININ elverdiginden cok fazlaydi. Yeni acilan kultur merkezindeki sinemalardan birinin bes matinesine girmek icin fuayede bekliyordum.

Tam o sirada, bir baska sinemanin bir onceki matinesinden babam ve bir kadin cikti. Babam karsimdaydi; birbirimizi gordugumuz anda, o beni degil, ben onu yakalamis oldum. Insanlar aramizdan gelip gecerken biz oylece durduk. Sonra babam, yanindaki kadinla birlikte, sinemanin karanligindan isigina cikanlarin goz kamasikligi icinde yanıma geldi.

Hannah’i hatırladin, degil mi, dedi. Kadin da, bakislarimi babamdan kendisine cevirmem icin ister istemez gulumsedi –cunku yanaklarimi kasan, ensemden yukariya soguk su yuruyormus duygusu veren sorular, yanitlar, kavrayislar, safdillik ve dus kirikligiyla yuklu bakislarimi babamdan ayiramiyordum– tabii tanisiyoruz, ben Hannah Plowman, dedi..." Nadine Gordime, Oglumun Oykusu

"How did I find out? I was deceiving him.

November. I was on study leave — for two weeks before the exams pupils in the senior classes were allowed to stay home to prepare themselves. I would say I was going to work with a friend at a friend's house, and then I'd slip off to a cinema. Cinemas had been open to us only a year or so; it was a double freedom I took: to bunk study and to sit in the maroon nylon velvet seat of a cinema in a suburb where whites live. My father was not well off but my parents wanted my sister and me to have a youth less stunted by the limits of an empty pocket than they had had, and my pocket-money was more generous than their precarious position, at the time, warranted. So I was in the foyer waiting to get into a five o'clock performance at one of the cinemas in a new complex and my father and a woman came out of the earlier performance in another.

There was my father; the moment we saw one another it was I who had discovered him, not he me. We stood there while other people crossed our line of vision. Then he came towards me with her in the dazed way people emerge from the dark of a cinema to daylight.

He said, You remember Hannah, don't you — And she prompted with a twitching smile to draw my gaze from him — for I was concentrating on him the great rush of questions, answers, realizations, credulity and dismay which stiffened my cheeks and gave the sensation of cold water rising up my neck — she prompted, Hannah Plowman, of course we know each other..."