Travel Snapshots of the Final Days in Istanbul

On my second to last day in Istanbul, I calmed down about working a little. I rode the ferry from the Asia side of the city to the European side while drinking tea (read: spilling tea) and watching the sun rise as I had most days before. But instead of going to deal with project organizers, models, or vintage clothiers, I lost myself with two other artists in the back streets of the Grand Bazaar. Istanbul has a pulse, a life, and it was important for me to capture that. 

So we shopped. We haggled and bargained our way into 4 kilos of Turkish spices apiece, leaving the young man at the market smiling but scratching his head at how we got such a deal and how we would get it home. We ran our fingers through silks and cashmeres, inspected handmade bowls in hues that mirror the light inside the Hagia Sophia. Spices assaulted our senses. I sat on the steps of the city center mosque with my eyes closed and listened to the rhythm of Istanbul. The light smell of roasted corn on the cob wafted from every direction, and I could feel the hems of ladies long burkas brush the ancient stone steps as they went to pray. In a way, I prayed too, a small and soaring prayer of thanks to the city of Istanbul and its people. 




Photos by Monika Rizovska where noted





Monika Rizovska


Monika Rizovska

Monika Rizovska

















Monika Rizovska

Monika Rizovska

Monika Rizovska

Monika Rizovska

Monika Rizovska

Monika Rizovska