Way down south

… From Kiev, that is – and Istanbul, as I always suspected, is just as glorious in May as Kiev is. It’s a different gloriousness – calmer, I think, less tragic (but tragedy is endemic to natives anyway – a foreign spring always feels gentler, it results in possibilities, as opposed to memories). Now I understand many of the things that Orhan Pamuk has written, I believe.

We’re in town for the 2012 TRT Documentary Awards. “Katya, Vitya, Dima” is in the international competition. It’s a very rare and wonderful experience, to have the lights go up, see the faces of the people, and realize that they have totally understood you.

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