Beauty.

Ara Güler, Istanbul


I just realised today, that all my "poetic" meanderings on travelling and places and memories seeming like just a beautiful dream, another life (so near, yet so inexplicably, heartbreakingly far - faded photographs), can be put into one quote, as someone much more succint than me had already done.

That "the beauty of a landscape resides in its melancholy" (Ahmet Rasim).

(then I'm suffering from beauty overdose, perhaps)

But its just amazing someone else feels the same, and bothered to put in down in such a marvelous nutshell. I thought i was just a little crazy and lost in nostalgia, which, like beer, makes everything look a heck of a lot nicer.

And i think i can bring in Theroux here for back up, who says that "travel is glamourous only in retrospect".