Kutsuimme 24 eri taiteilijaa tai taiteilijaryhmää julistamaan miksi he tekevät taidetta. Julkaisemme päivittäin heidän vastauksiaan jouluaattoon asti joulukuussa 2020.
As of November 1st, 2020, facebook decided to discontinue their option for publishing ‘notes’. I learned this when I was trying to access my old notes, which contain poetry, essays, theatre reviews, monologues from films I watched, my dreams and snippets from books I read.
I guess if facebook gives one the right to use their medium to share writings, it can take it away as well, just as easily, although this action is suspicious. I suppose it doesn’t bring them as much benefit to document what people think compared to what people buy.
Either way, I looked for some tips about how to extract my work from these notes and save them where I have more authority than facebook and realized that I had shared 60 texts, in word document, with a font size 12, about 122 pages, not double spaced. Around 28 500 words shared in public, despite the ethically dubious medium, still give me the agency to determine myself as a writer.
My first inclination is to convey the world around and within me in words. I wrote my first poem which was about three fishes in my aquarium (whilst I never had an aquarium), when I was 7 years old.
I write to pour out emotions so that I can make space for new ones. I write to make sense of events around me. I write to materialize my imagination and my subconscious unveiled to me in my day and night dreams. I write in my native language, Albanian, in English and in my second language, Turkish.
Here, I share with you a poem I translated from Albanian into English which has a French title.
J’adore Tomislav Markovic
I want to make a T-shirt with this inscription
But our folk would beat me up to death
Or they’d whip me up with ignorance
If Toma were a rock star
(I am taking the liberty here to caress his name)
I would had been a groupie
And on his concert
I would wiggle my tits out
And cheer with screams
Like the teenage girls did for the Beatles.
Yesterday I was reading his book
‘Time of death and fun’
translated by Fadil Bajraj –
I’d wiggle my tits for him too!
I squeezed the book in my chest
Like Tito who inserted the books tied with a belt
Not to let them get wet from the rain
That’s how it should have been
That’s how it was told in the reading book.
Tito must have had a wide chest!
I wanted to ask for Toma’s signature
But then I would have become exactly a groupie.
To ask for an autograph
From a boy who fights glorification
It’s like masturbating
While watching Hitler’s speeches.