OffScript Longoz Park

Category: Photography

  • six.

    The Truth is Out There

    I remember, back in the ’90s, watching the sky through the window with cheap binoculars, hoping to catch a glimpse of a terrifying UFO. Oh, how excited I was every time I saw tiny flashing lights on planes far away. It was the spirit of that time among us kids.

    My friends and I were addicted to mystery magazines and all the other stuff full of aliens, monsters, ghosts, Atlantis, the Roswell incident, the Bermuda Triangle, and countless more.

    Then at some point, The X-Files hit the scene. We were always right there with Mulder, asking the same questions, and we were always so angry at Scully. How could she not believe it? How could she not see it!

    What an era for young minds to be shaped.

    Today, there are countless documentaries about aliens and UFOs with high image quality. Sometimes I turn one of them on, but I can’t help but turn it off after ten minutes. For some reason, it doesn’t have the same taste anymore. The mystery is gone. Or, maybe the mystery is still there, but clearly, I am not.

  • five.

    five.

    Like that well-known song Lady D’Arbanville, I love the contrast between appearance and depth in works of art. This photo conveys the same feeling to me. There is something dark beneath its colorful surface.

    Always the same monologue in my mind; when I captured this shot, and every time I see it:

    Red Riding Hood was here.
    Guess where she is now.

  • four.

    four.

    This time machine is a gateway to the beautiful memories of New Year’s Eve 2013. It can’t take me back to that time literally, but it brings the irresistible smell of French fries from that night to my nose, and the sight of the angry eyes of Gumus, our cat, beneath her tiny New Year’s Eve cap.

    It was a New Year’s gift from my wife.

    And my gift was those funnel-shaped hats made of paper, painted with watercolor. I made them myself for everyone in the house; three pieces. I didn’t wear one though, Gumus already didn’t like it, but my wife walked through the streets laughing with that hat.

    Back then, she wasn’t my wife yet. It’s been 12 years.

    Gumus with Hat.
    Gumus with her cap.

  • three.

    three.

    The plan was a top-down shot with our lovely cat, Bronz, at the bottom of the stairs. She didn’t get the memo, but I ended up liking this anyway. The empty stairs and my slippers had to tell the story of this abandonment.

  • two.

    two.

    When my wife and I moved into a house in a small village a few years ago, I spent the first few days trying to imagine the presence of the previous owners, who had already passed away, within those walls. The idea was unsettling, yet fascinating. Even now, I still check the floors and walls from time to time, hoping to find a hidden compartment, perhaps an old box filled with photographs. I think the photograph I was hoping to find would look exactly like this one. To be honest, I can’t say I’m unhappy about not finding it.

  • one.

    one.

    The idea of a head emerging from the grave often feels frightening to people, no matter whose body it belongs to. But it doesn’t always have to be terrifying. Imagine someone you loved deeply, who passed away long ago, coming back to life.

    If that thought still feels scary, please blame Stephen King and his Pet Sematary. Otherwise, I promise, there is no evil here.