School of Visual Arts
209 East 23 Street
New York, NY 10010-3994
One of my favorite memories of Turkey was in Azzis’s carpet shop. As a hyperactive artist who wishes to be a textilist, it was overwhelming. I soon began to move like a child overly stimulated after stuffing its mouth with candy from the jar mom kept on the top shelf. My overpowering desire to express my pleasure probably created a facial expression somewhere between pure joy and electrocution.
I wanted to touch everything. It took all my self-control to keep from jumping wall-to-walltouching every surface and texture. I managed to regain my sanity and composure while analyzing the beading and lace headscarf borders. My newfound starvation further sedated me and I parked my body on a couch and chairs turned into giant sandwiches in my delirium.
When I was behaving more like a functioning adult I graduated to the brilliant multicolored blankets which called to me from the back of the room. I started to look through them, gathering each one in my hands like a warm blushing baby. I was determined to have one, but each time I decided a new beautiful pattern lay before me.
This constant state of fickleness and color overload probably would have continued exponentially. But I acted, as all shoppers eventually must. I chose. The result of course could have been nothing but happiness.