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Partly from memory, partly from life —- Gabriela & me in the mountains — Singing & drawing spectacular scenery while racketing along the high rocky roads on the edge of precipice after precipice —- “This is MY country! This is MY CHOICE!!” — “A wish they all could be California Girlz….” — Raw new jagged land of rocks & olive trees – Geologically new but to us humans unimaginably ancient — Happy in our dark red lipstick & shades we look miles down on a silver river —- 25 June ’00—— All these years later, knowing all I know, this drawing makes me happy.


26 June ’00 —Side is pronounced SEE day, and yes, a silly pun. In my memories of Side it’s always afternoon, with the sea the color of an oyster shell. You could walk out for a mile and never go in to your shoulders. Two months later on this exact spot I slid on the slippery cement, resulting in a permanent injury which changed my life even more.


Mustafa as Father Christmas (in July) — All these years I had thought Jetskis noisome pests I had never been on one——


27 June ’00—— A nice moment.


Apollo Dance Bar, Side — 27 June ’00——Wandering around and drawing in the night. I really loved that neon sign bravely piping in all that dark antiquity.


28 June ’00 — Nomad family taken to Tourism — Woven goat-hair tent — Giant wooden pins — Sleeping Gabriela — Bus Companions — Beautiful old Turkish houses — Modern Turkish architecture stunning in its hideousness, surpassing even Southern California — Smorgasbord of trees — Yes! A field of sharp stones—-> —— This last was probably an old overgrown cemetery. I hope it wasn’t stumps—— Another fight with Nizam, so I called Gabriela. “You must come to Pamukkale,” she said.


Old looted tombs — A million shades of white — Trickling water has combed & polished the chalk to an uncanny surface texture unlike anything else — Gabriela – “I love to feel the wind in my hair” — PAMUKKALE — Milky water swirling clouds of chalk around my feet – a trickling white warm glacier tinged in places with amber and pale turquoise under a milky white sky—— One of Turkey’s natural miracles. The old looted tombs of Roman Hierapolis are black and gold on the edge of this shining white mountain.


Ahmet Demirag — teacher — Hatica the star of our show… the artist —Remsiye—— After I drew his shop, his rugs, his wife & himself, Ahmet fed me cherries & gave me this ring.


Everybody was playing cards & laughing late in the hot night across from the water. They all knew who I was. These people have been married 20 years—— 


Oh sure. Attempt to render a wooded island in the middle of a reservoir. At lunch. — Smiling lunch fish — Clay whistle sold to me by an old Gypsy man in Pamukkale – When filled with water it warbles like a bird——Years later when I read Lous Berniere’s heartbreaking masterpiece of Turkey, Birds Without Wings, I recognized my little terra-cotta whistle and marveled that I’d been able to find one.


KRUNCH!! – Oops. “Mamma Mia!” — Police Prefect the night Nizam & I took out the jewelry store window with the jeep—— The rented jeep was unharmed and I paid $200 for the window. There was something about Side that made me feel bulletproof. The Germans loved it for its comparative lack of rules.


Simone getting a tattoo at 1:30 in the morning.


Oh moon of Alabama

We now must say goodbye

— Sick and chilled I drive us to the airport – Yilmaz & Nizam are very drunk – We are late for the plane to Istanbul —

My revenge on Nizam for staying out drinking until all hours when he knew we had a plane to catch… was watching him schlep all the luggage…

They held the plane for us…

—— I was exhausted. I got up early and drew all day, and then Nizam who got up at 4PM would not let me sleep. I needed my friends in Istanbul. He came too.


Zercan — Tranquil garden fountain in Turkistar Asi Ev — Waterfall in a really nice restaurant opposite the Hippodrome — Sande — Sultanahmet—— Back at peaceful Kybele, where Nizam could not stay as we were not married. At last I slept.

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