Oh dear Istanbul,

my admiration and affection for you brought me to one painting. J’ai trouvé La Mosquée Bleue d’Istanbul dans Le Musée de Louvre. How could I not miss it? The perfect shape of blue spires that penetrate the sky and ocean. You were placed at a very quiet corner of the top floor in the museum. I came across with you while I was breathing deeply.

Deep in. Deep out.

 

Wandering about.

A gentle wind led me to la Cathédrale Notre-Dame de Paris. The crescent was veiled with blue clouds. I breezed into its door to greet Jesus. By chance, an evening Mass by the Cardinal Bishop of the city was being conducted. Ce s’appelle Grande veillée pour la vie. “Great vigil for life.”

The magnificent architecture that inspires nothing but awe in us reminded me of the Blue Mosque in Istanbul. Chanting of Quran and prayer of choir inevitably had the same resonance. A tonal ladder to the heaven.

 

 

Oh dear Istanbul.
A sensual city.
Full of melodies of sentiments.
Full of aroma of ecstasy.
Full of lights of surrender.

 

Who you miss, Istanbul?
Memoirs of the city are traced in Paris.