A single seed,
Sprouted in the middle of two continents,
The salt of the Aegean,
Bathing in the tears of Aphrodite,
On her stolen land, dusted in the velvet of the empire.
The past sorrows of humanity is what gives this land that I love so much its red tint.
Have you ever shared your breakfast with the seagulls?
I, haven’t been full since.
Split, multiplied, divided and moved around.
A new language,
A new place to call home.
The stench of the Hudson,
on the red land.
A sore to the eye of the concrete city.
The calls to prayer — always a whisper in the wind,
I don’t really belong.
There or Here.
Have you ever loved a brown-eyed city?
Or a green-eyed one?
I belong to none,
I belong to both.
Hazal Kelleci is a visual artist who mostly works with the mediums of sculpture, digital fabrication and photography. Her works focus on trying to unravel the details overlooked in the rush and monotony of everyday life while her writing reflects what she is missing to see. She was born in Istanbul, Turkey and raised in New Jersey. She has recently graduated from her Masters program to continue to spread her passion for the arts through teaching.