#100happydays No. 3

Apparently, you think that each weekend I come by and post something about my happy days. But no, actually this week I got sick. I was in bed for 3 days. And I wanted to take a photo of my bed as three happy days in a row. Hahah. 

I slept a lot and believe me it was really good. B also prepared a soup for me and Farbod came with lots of oranges... He told me he wanted to give a vitamin C shock to me . lol. 

On Saturday, I woke up really happy. You've got to be there and see my face enlightened with joy of life. 

This yoga class has changed my whole perspective in life. Really. 

I took some photos on the way to the class as a reminder of a very happy, calm and beautiful day. 

Moda

Moda

Nefess Atoliyesi

xoxo.

#100happydays No.2

On Sunday, I went to yoga class. It arrived there soon. So I could find a time to sit by the calm sea for a while.
My mind was as free as a bird and I was full of good energy.

After it, Babak joined me. And we walked together, had chai and enjoyed some-olny-us-in-the-moment time. 

Istanbul can be romantic most of the times. 

#100happydays No.1

Here is starts a series of my happy days.
Waking up on a holiday morning. Nice weekend.
You too. Start a series .

http://100happydays.com/

Last days of the year (1392)

I think now that these are the last days of this year (Persian year), I need to write about it.
This year for me was something else, although it does not feel like a whole different year. For me, it seemed like I have been living like this, in this city for hundred years now.

Hundred years of living in Istanbul.

It’s raining here. Pretty much. Days after days and it just don’t stop. My hands are cold. But I am trying to keep them warm by the fire inside my heart.

This year was about big steps for me. Living with B. Starting my full-time job at dreambox. Getting my work permit. Being in Iran for one months. Having long conversation with my mom. Seeing them managing their life without me and Elika, and how lovely they wish the best for us.

I got angry, I was depressed. I became happy, then I turned to be hopeful. It was night again. I heard the sound of protest in the streets of Istanbul. I saw angry faces. I witnessed people gathering n Gezi park.

One of the highlights was Sani. A cute little dog. My very first pet. I decided to foster her for about 2 months, till my friend takes her to America. But these two months changed to 10 months, and now that I am writing, just one day ahead she will be leaving me. I am feeling a very heavy feeling of love and lust on my heart. On one hand I am happy that finally Sani will be with her owners, but on the other hand what about me? 

Will I take a pet in this year? I hope.

I lost a friend this year. Our dear MohammadReza, who went to sleep and never woke up. I was in the office when my mom told me. I didn’t know where to burst my tears. I listen to this whenever I think about him. He really liked this music.

I was pretty much luck to have B beside me the whole year. We laughed. We were mad. We worked. We were wasted on weekends (mostly we weren’t). And at last we are continuing making history together.

I am ending my year with my first session of yoga. I know I may have a long way to go, but I assume I am on the right track. Every day I am trying to take a step forward to self-improvement.

I will add my new year resolution soon. 

xoxo

P.S . Happy birthday to Jack Kerouac. 

P.S. These days are full of Ray LaMontagne for me. 

Rumi

This, I made today.
At work.

eL.

Nightmare or something more?

It's 11 o'clock and I am still in the office. It's Saturday by the way.
I am exhusted. Numb at the same time.

I am dreaming about a house, that it's windows opens towards the ocean.
I even can not listen to music.
My ears can't distinguish notes.

A bit before, I listened to Valerie by Amy Winehouse.
And that was it.

I am surrounded by something which is numb itself.

Sometimes I forget why I am working.

Do you know what does immigration mean?

Immigration.

The word itself brings the feeling of the “home” although it represent exactly the opposite.
Maybe during immigration we miss our home so much that the first word is “home” when we hear immigration.

The streets, the well-known surroundings, the people, the food, the music, the smell, the language and everything can easily be missed.
These days I think about immigration ; Not because I am all about it, but because when I left my home town, my very own country I didn’t feel like immigrating.

I put myself in a new context. I called it new life.
There are some days that I really feel strange in this city; my boyfriend seems so far away from me. But yeah, strange. I call it feeling strange.

I keep listening to a song which says , "Draw a line around Iran, damn this destiny!"

Maybe it's the best way to manage it all . Music. Art and literature.

These days I can feel the huge rush of making art again. I think I was not born to work this way. I should be as free as a bird, like a water-color in water, that first drop that spreads in water and wants to figure out each corner of the glass. As soon as it understands there’s nothing interesting in there, it sits on the bottom of the water. Looking dirty and sad. I am that drop of water-color. Today maybe a yellow one.

Today I am sad.