The lales are in bloom and are glorified in heaping abundance at Göztepe Park. Walking along the garden paths, I noticed that in several patches of tulips one tulip of a contrasting color announced its otherness in the most beautiful and striking way. The color variety and the splashes of non-conformist flowers that refused to grow with like colors reminded me of people I know, those who boldly follow their own paths in life.
My mom's stay is almost complete. We've spent a great deal of time luxuriating. We stayed one night in the Pera Palace Hotel, where I channeled Ernest Hemingway at the bar and we perused the possessions of Mustafa Kemal in his own Pera Palace room, now a museum. I felt inspired to begin a dystopian thriller about a married couple that returns to the now abandoned luxury hotel where they were married to try to revive their marriage and forget the decaying world outside.
In the Pera Palace we rode an antique elevator, which also happens to be the first elevator in Turkey. The elevator has held so many fascinating people over the past 125 years. Although I was excited about my new novel idea, nothing in my imagination could compete with the stories the elevator could tell, if only it could speak.
I wrote in my notebook a lot and we watched a couple films on my couch: When Marnie Was There, which was mysterious and poignant, and Carol, which was disappointing and flat.
Stories are like flowers in a field. Some seem no different than the others, but the best ones stand out and draw our attention and admiration.
I wrote in my notebook a lot and we watched a couple films on my couch: When Marnie Was There, which was mysterious and poignant, and Carol, which was disappointing and flat.
Stories are like flowers in a field. Some seem no different than the others, but the best ones stand out and draw our attention and admiration.
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