Tuzu  Kuru
Installation ‘25
“Tuzu kuru” (literally “their salt is dry”) is a Turkish idiom used to describe someone who is well-off, comfortable, and free from financial worries. It carries a slightly ironic or critical tone, implying that the person can afford to be indifferent or careless because they don't have the struggles others face.The literal phrase likely comes from everyday life: salt absorbs moisture easily, so in damp or poor living conditions (like lower, humid floors in old houses), salt would become wet and clumpy. In contrast, those living in drier, better homes — often on upper floors — would have “dry salt.” Over time, having “dry salt” became a metaphor for being in a better, more comfortable situation. 


Photo by Silvia Arenas
Photo by Silvia Arenas
Lorem Ipsum...
Photo by Silvia Arenas
Photo by Silvia Arenas
Photo by Silvia Arenas
Photo by Silvia Arenas
Photo by Silvia Arenas
 you’re really fixated on this, he said, it’s normal, let it go. I stopped recording the ninth video of the quarries carved into the mountains as we drove. here it comes, I thought - we were about to argue. for some reason, we always end up in fierce disagreement while traveling, yet I somehow still find it peaceful to be in the car with him. I felt furious - a newly introduced feeling to our road-trip debates. I was used to frustration, to feeling provoked or critical, but this was different. I couldn’t tell if the anger was directed at him or at myself; I wanted it to be aimed at the ones who caused this view. I hadn’t realized how much I loved mountains until they disappeared from my horizon. the anger was there because he was taking them for granted, the same way I once did. how mountains made me feel was ineffable, yet now I could describe it: they feel like a heartbreak. looking outside the car window, all I can hear is her voice, echoing in my head. she asked, when are you coming back, for the first time, while we were watching TV. I looked her in the eye to make sure it was not a rhetorical question, and indeed, she was genuinely curious. I immediately felt a pressure in my temples, as all the possible answers raced to be the first to come out of my mouth. the happy people on TV, laughing, annoyed me at that moment; such a simple and expected question had left me disoriented, and they were enhancing it. she was still looking at me, waiting for a date. I don’t think I will, I said, disappointing all the racing answers. I knew it was pointless to give an explanation for such a question. I handed over the confusion; now she was puzzled, yet it seemed like she was still amused by the happy people on TV. it is hard, she said. is this easy, I asked. must be easier, she said.
another quarry and again, all I can hear is her voice resounding in my head. so, when are you coming back, she asked for the second time. I was leaving the kitchen, holding a cup of Turkish coffee in my hand that had not been sipped yet. I glanced at the coffee, thinking I only like Turkish coffee as a concept. I don’t even like the taste, only the rituals around it, and yet I was holding a cup of Turkish coffee in my hand, totally isolated from all the rituals, just because I could not find any other type of coffee in the house that morning. I directed my gaze towards her again, thinking I was craving a cup of filter coffee. again, she had the same demanding stare, waiting for an answer. it was too early for a complicated reply, yet she seemed ready for the debate. I don’t think I will, I said. my neighbours, she said, they couldn’t do it and came back. her demanding gaze dissolved and turned towards the TV.
I was still under the influence of the dream I had dreamt. I dreamt that I was at the station; a man checked my ticket as I went inside. I had only five minutes until the bus at 17:00. A man and a woman took my phone. I grew concerned - the battery was already low, and I was thinking I should switch to airplane mode. bunun tuzu kuru, the woman said as they overpowered me; I couldn’t get my phone back. “Tuzu kuru” - literally “their salt is dry” - is a Turkish idiom used to describe someone who is well-off, comfortable, untouched by the worries of others. It carries a faintly ironic tone, as if the person can afford to be indifferent. now, awake, a slight wave of shame covered me as I sat on the toilet, recalling the dream sequence, and then a moment of self-reflection followed. I was upset about my mountains being chopped to make toilets in Europe, while sitting on one. Maybe I was sitting on pieces of the mountains I was longing for; maybe we traveled the same route to come here.