The Romance of Rust

  • February 13th, 2012

    I’m not an Orientalist. I’m not an Occidentalist. I’m an Oxidizalist. Okay, so there’s no such word, but right now, I’m having a certain romance with the processes of oxidation and crumbling (provided we’re not talking about my own), so I need a term to describe it.

    This city has so much beauty, even in its regions of decrepitude, that’s worthy of notice. Call me crazy, but I’m having  a kind of romance with rust.

    It’s interesting to take a stroll through the old industrial and shipping areas of town and feel the textures, particularly on a wet day when all the colors darken. Just look at the richness of hue, the patterns of wear, the textures in Industrianbul (yes another made up word)— Persembe Pazari, Haydarpasa and other dockside areas.


    What do you think? Are these things more romantic now that they’re crumbling? I wonder if they’d seem as noble and as striking if they were fresh and new.


  • Z Tozum 02.13.2012  

    Hmm..your photographs made me think of survival: survival of intense experiences despite the illusion of the “temps perdu”….and that is romantic. Thank you for the twist! Z

  • I.A.W.  

    My pleasure. They were intended as a gritty Valentine.

  • You may have not intended to do so, but I think you have managed to express the state of mind that a lot of people are in. The sense of wanting to help, but not knowing how or where, is something a lot of us are going through.

  • I really enjoyed your blog! I put it in my favorites so I can come back again. I found it on Bing.

  • Sam Jr  

    Come to Ottawa, Ontario, Canada and you’ll see so much rust cars, trucks, vans, even new cars.

    Your blog is awesome by the way I realy enjoy it a lot — I have been to Turkey before so I can smell the air and see the pure sea water and here the Turkish music and taste its yummy food as I view your blog 🙂

    Sam Jr

    I found out about your Blog through an old friend of yours in Canada …

  • I.A.W.  

    Thanks, Sam. I appreciate it. And I remember the rust in Ottawa all too well … and the winters. My teeth still chatter at the thought.


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