There is something I cannot define in a proper manner yet. For now I call it Afeji. I borrow the rhythm of a word like nostalgia, which I understand as a yearning for a past experience. But Afeji is not exactly that. The name is provisional. It is a combination of affect and logia (a […]
In 2009, after a series of coincidences, I found myself spending half an hour in front of Filmuniversity. I had no prior intention of entering or any familiarity with filmmaking practices. I was simply there, waiting for someone as they took their exam. However, one thing that stood out to me was an overwhelming urge
Living Room I still find it strange that this room ended up being titled “living room.” To define it so definitively feels like a form of erasure—an attempt to simplify what happens there, to render its ambiguities inert. For outsiders, it was the space where we sat and talked, drank tea—sometimes coffee. In the summer,
Whenever I return to Antep, I encounter something I do not find ethically meaningful, yet it has become collectively functional. Everyone knows it, but no one names it, as if there were a secret pact. I cannot simply call it a “lie,” but yes, technically it is the act of lying — this shared notion,
When I went to my grandmother’s house in Gelsenkirchen, I experienced an encounter similar to the one Deleuze describes when he says, “we first encounter the affect of a work of art.” But this time, there was no artwork in front of me. As children in Antep, we used to look forward to the summer
The Zollverein Coal Mine Industrial Complex (German Zeche Zollverein) is a large former industrial site in the city of Essen, North Rhine-Westphalia, Germany. The first coal mine on the premises was founded in 1847, and mining activities took place from 1851 until December 23, 1986. For decades, starting in the late 1950s, the two parts
For me, our first house has always felt like a mother. I was born at home, not in a hospital. Maybe the people in the neighbourhood where I was born were like me, but as my life went on and I moved from place to place, I never met anyone else who was born at
For me, our first house has always felt like a mother. I was born at home, not in a hospital. Maybe the people in the neighbourhood where I was born were like me, but as my life went on and I moved from place to place, I never met anyone else who was born at