My name is Z, short for Zee, synonymous to Zey, short for Zeyno, which stands for Zeynep. My name is Sani, which is a blasphemous nickname for Sami; written 54n1 if the matter is politically sensitive and smells like trouble. In this world that exists through my perspective every single thing that exists is a poem waiting to be uncovered with projections of meaning. I am not necessarily equipped with rose coloured glasses but one that is made of the strongest magnifying glasses that can see into the details of every object and situation. One needs to be careful with these glasses for a wrong angle combined with the sun has the power of setting this city on fire. But there is a great possibility that I am a pyromaniac and the cities I have lived in always used to be too cold for my taste. My eyes used to function without the need of glasses before the age of eleven.
I was born in Kadıköy, İstanbul on the 9th of August 1999, under the shadow of an eclipse, one week before the great earthquake. My family fled the city after the case for a short while and I believe this is where my inability to stay still and passion for shaking and breaking things come from. I lived in many different cities both real and fictional, never really letting my roots keep me settled. Growing up in Istanbul, one learns to embody chaos as yet another limb of theirs and truly understand the meaning of what it means to be a political being. From as far as I can remember I hated the current reigning party and their endless authoritarianism. They still are in power. Mind you I am now 22 years of age. This means that every action I take requires an intrinsic knowledge of anti-authoritarianism and a strong distaste for right wing politics. Just like how fascism bleeds into every part of our lives under the reign of capitalism, my political ideology which is far left of the spectrum bleeds into not only my day to day life but of course into my most precious art practice. To love and to be loved is indeed a political practice. To love and to speak of it is a revolutionary act.
From my observations I have figured the personal and political spectrum of intensity that starts from unconditional love and ends in incredible violence. Which I believe exists in the necessary steps for revolution. You might say oh here is another fool who believes that a revolution is possible what a fool, what a fool. What I would tell you would be yes what if I am a fool? Have you ever looked up the meaning of one? In Tarot the fool stands for new beginnings and hold a part of every single card in the major arcana. They are very powerful. They are number 0. Remember how revolutionary zero was? It changed the course of history once the mind was revolutionized by the zero. The fool is the one who takes risks and makes possible new ways of existence always. Although life for me exists in the intersections of love, magic, art and politics; I can tell you that the alchemical process of mixing the personal and political to achieve the poetic philosophers stone that can turn you immortal and those around you into gold, exists in the common goal of communalism. You can not be truly free to practice your practice until everyone is free in a way that you are in my not so humble opinion. Art is used as a way for people to see emotions and feel what they are, to be reminded of their humanity and the soul they reside. The day we all realize our souls is the day I believe we will finally find solidarity within each other.
The strong distaste for the system we reside in does not keep me away from my romantic way of living. Yes we might live in a post-compassionate dystopia where the machinery of capitalism is always there to sink their teeth in your not-so-delicate-anymore flesh; there is always an escape of fantasy. I am as sapphic as a jar of rose jam next to a bouquet of freshly picked daisies in a spring day while having a picnic with your lover. There is beauty to be found in every nook and cranny and I decide to spend a lifetime in search of it. Making beauty not a destination of perfection but the very passion that directs you to the said beauty. Platonic ideals. Loving is an active thing, you can not sit along and say that you love if you are not constantly in motion. Love transform and changes shapes and sizes. The more you love the more you can love. To use love as a battlefield where you derive your energy from the beauty and warmth of the sun makes the scars you take along the way one easier and deserving to bare.
There are stories to be told and it is a mission of mine to at least get a few across different mediums. A feast of emotions to fill your self with. Propaganda to embody. Simply living through expression. Choose your labels and use as they fit you, knowing that one is always ungovernable. The four elements of love, art, magic and politics shall be my guide to figure this existence out. -Z -out.