The Most Evil Eye

Macit Quote of the Day: If you have a good camera I’ll take it

The Evil Eye

Riddle me this:  Does the above quote mean that Macit is a photographer, or a thief?  Does he appreciate the art of photography, lining up shots, going to galleries in modern art museums, or is he a kleptomaniac? 

Mojo Jojo getting his ass handed to him by Powerpuff Girls: Notice exposed brain

If I told you that this questions ran through my mind about all Turkish people after a certain event in my trip, would you believe me?  Do you understand the paranoia that I had, constantly wondering if a nearby Turk was eying my art with appreciation or envy?  This paranoia perfectly sums up the idea of the ‘evil eye’ in Mediterranean society.  My stuff better not be too awesome, otherwise people will look upon it with jealously, putting some real bad Mojo on it.  Unfortunately for this talented American, I didn't do enough to ward off the envy of the Turks.

So here’s the deal.  I’m good at the ancient art of ebru, or marbling.  For those of you who don’t know, marbling is the process of dripping a colored paint into a mixture of water and resin.  The paint remains on the surface of the water/resin mix and you can design it.  After the design is completed, a piece of paper is gently placed on top of the surface and slid off, transferring the paint onto the paper.  I was an expert tulip maker.

Masterpiece

Here I am, with a brand new marbled tulip in my hand, happy as can be.  What could be better than creating a new piece of art than eating some delicious pizza? A group of seven of us decide that pizza and beer on the roof of our hotel sounds delightful.  We decided that we would split forces, 4 of us wait for pizza, 3 of us hunt down some beer.  I’m in the beer crew.  I left my beautiful painting under the auspices of a certain someone who shall remain unnamed since I didn’t know how hard it would be to carry beer and a masterpiece.  Big mistake.

Lo and behold, the unnamed person ‘forgot’ my masterpiece at the pizza shop.  No big deal, it was a masterpiece, it would still be there, we’ll get it after pizza.  The shop is a block away, by the time we get there about an hour has passed.  We arrive and see the man who served us.  He immediately looks flustered, like the bubble next to his head is saying “Caught red-handed”.  I ask him if he has seen the most tulip he has ever encountered.  His English isn’t perfect, but the message I hear is that he felt like I left it for garbage (yeah right, like I would leave masterpiece as garbage) and that it was destroyed.  I was not very happy, but I didn’t want to make the unnamed person feel bad, so I put on a brave face.  Strangely though, the man invited us back into the shop and took us to his bathroom.  Weird I thought. 

Signing Masterpiece

We open up the door to the bathroom, and you would imagine my surprise when masterpiece was plastered on his wall.  When he mentioned ‘destroyed’ he meant that it would rip if we tried to take it down.  Moral of the story: the Turks both appreciate the arts, who wouldn’t recognize the brilliance of masterpiece, and they’re thieves.  Silver lining, I’m a professional artist (he paid me in food the next day) and I’ve left a piece of me in Istanbul other than dead skin cells.