Mule Chewing Its Saddlebag
Let's watch what the road brings from a woman's perspective, from the hands of two women. Inside a pink patterned carpet, sisters with broken hearts, grief-stricken, overjoyed, screaming and crying. Let's cry over the way traditional motifs are violated and scattered here and there.
'The Mule Chewing Its Saddlebag' reveals the layers of the act of being on the road; It maps both the ring road that reaches the city and the interior itself.
Project - Director: Dicle DoÄŸan
Creative Performance: Iraz Akçam, Simge Günsan
Music Performance: Esmani Kılıç
Poem: yazig Mahmud Without adjectives
Images: Ege Canpolat
Production: Staff pa
The griddle is made of hair
Hunchback saddlebag;
The pattern is on your back
With the shadow of your mulesed troubles;
A pink soul.
One...two...maybe million,
In a world full of billions;
For some, from the dowry chest,
A badge of status for some,
For some people's eye pleasure
Installed carpet!
Who cares?
With dust swept under
The disappointment of crumbling trump cards,
Sins of envy.
with contrary intent
Because of the accumulated layer of dirt-soaked gratitude,
A carpet with tassels cut from the floor.
Far-fetched, nothing more than a delusion...
Disposal from overlock.
Who cares?
No mom...
Even if you hit the stones at the stream,
Even if you shoot with your camera that you trust
...doesn't give in.
Embroidered in motif,
With its stains stuck in every strand of its thread
Alone.
Who cares...