from Istanbul, with love
Vacations are ephemeral. One minute you’re in a new city, making your way from the airport to your hotel. You’re starry-eyed and energetic with the days stretching ahead of you like they would never end. There’s so much you want to see, the sun is a little brighter, the nights are a little longer. But just when you get the hang of the city, just when you know your way around, when you’re settling into the perfect pattern, it all comes to an end. You’re somehow back in your own bedroom and the magic you felt while on vacation evaporated somewhere along the way – probably as you stood in a long line at the airport or sat for hours in a tiny seat trying to find a comfortable niche to rest your head.
Before you know it, you’re back at work or school. You pick up where you left off. You’re enveloped in the busyness of a life that doesn’t allow for long, luxurious breakfasts. You cannot afford to get lost and laugh about it and you certainly don’t strike a conversation with a stranger or buy a silly trinket or two. And when you do get a chance to look at the many photos you captured, you struggle to remember what that building was or why you felt the need to photograph a street sign. Where was that sign anyway? And what were you doing that day? You try to remember but it’s fading fast.