False Positives
I often feel caught between people and cultures — in a quiet space where translation replaces instinct, and belonging slips away. I find myself in fragments: a gesture, a laugh, a reflection of light.
Growing up between worlds taught me to adapt, to watch before speaking. It’s a strength, but also a distance — a habit of standing in the doorway, never fully inside.
There’s fatigue in this constant shifting, yet also peace — a rhythm beyond language or nation. Sometimes it finds me in the smell of coffee, a melody, a glance that needs no words. In those moments, I almost feel at home.
This piece was an artwork for the 25' fall issue fo Tint Journal. A poem of the same title by Sarp Sozdinler.
I often feel caught between people and cultures — in a quiet space where translation replaces instinct, and belonging slips away. I find myself in fragments: a gesture, a laugh, a reflection of light.
Growing up between worlds taught me to adapt, to watch before speaking. It’s a strength, but also a distance — a habit of standing in the doorway, never fully inside.
There’s fatigue in this constant shifting, yet also peace — a rhythm beyond language or nation. Sometimes it finds me in the smell of coffee, a melody, a glance that needs no words. In those moments, I almost feel at home.
This piece was an artwork for the 25' fall issue fo Tint Journal. A poem of the same title by Sarp Sozdinler.
False Positives