His father used to have a prayer chain, one made of beautiful old amber, each bead oval-shaped and bright. You would hear his voice, trembling its way to pronounce His name. I never saw my father do the same. In fact, I really rarely saw him pray at all. But whenever I would leave for…

I remember my teacher teaching me about vanishing points, where even the objects that are very much present are always pointing towards the vanishing. It is now that I am wondering why I would ever want to draw something where the point is to disappear. Interestingly enough, there were times I would run out of…

I used to visit these allotment gardens when I was younger than the amount of young I am right now. It belonged to the parents of a Turkish friend of mine. I remember the way he used to say „mother“ in excitement, in anger and in shame. Those sounds still resonate in me though I…