Hag ia Sophia Continued, June 28th 10pm- Anders

Inside Sophia all humans are dwarfed, after a shallow entryway of about 15 steps you enter a giant circular room with chandeleers hanging from metal rods descending all the way from the cieling. the main chandaleer is currently down and the middle of the main room is taken up by scaffolding that reaches to the cieling so it can be repainted in the style of the original tile work.

As i walked across the floor every sight stopped my thoughts and left me in blank amazement- the colors, the forms of worship of others, hundreds of years of lives of lovers.

We follow the established unmarked path of visitation without unsure hesitiation, in the middle of the floor lay circular stones, roped off, yet a child wanders under, unaware of the lines she crosses and the social rules she tosses aside, a guard calmly calls her back to the boundaries of history, leaving these stones to not be touched for another who knows how long. Arranged in an almost astrological depiction, ovals surround a central mother piece, this focal oval is the place where many sultans have recieved their royal adornments- outward displays of an intangible power that never ceases to be fungible due to the constant need of tangible reaffirmation of domination.

Moving on from these stones that hold more history than i can comprehend i come to a structure built for the man who makes the calls to worship you now here all throughout Istanbul every 5 hours or so, beyond this are stairs that lead to heaven, apparently heaven is only about 20 steps away and begins with a doorway that holds no door. Back at the ground floor i move on to see the christian depiction of Jesus surrounded by Mary and Gabriel, created by human hands (as is all.. ignore this parenthesis, it is a note for me). Beyond this is an arch that was tiled blue at the time when Columbus "discovered" a new world, Sophia records a culture developed before mine began. I may have ancestors like all others but i have none of their knowledge, and so my culture began with the "founding" of the Americas.

Circling back around to the left a hallway wider than some houses leads back to the entrance of Sophia, before the entrance is reached all visitors are drawn to a crowd collected around a stone pillar, at chest height is a thumb print pressed inches deep past stone and metal, around the imprint the pillar has been washed gray as far as fingers can reach when the thumb is placed in this creeping forming hole, this display is the result of hundreds of years of prayerful people placing their thumb central and their fingers towards the ground, then the hand is rotated 360 degrees while holding a prayer in mind. I watch muslims and nons commit the act, thinking of prayers, or not. I prepair my own prayer, at first it is "(this part is taken out, i will share my full writing later)," what a fool i am- making prayers for others, as i step up to take my turn i change my prayer and as i turn my hand i think one word "release."

Moving on, just steps away is an inscription on the mosque wall, a plaque explains the marking- 9th Century Viking Grafitti.

Past the rude crude Viking symbol is a switch back ramp leading to the upper floor that creates a ringed overview of the scene below, while on this floor pangs of hunger hit, in travelling sometimes neccessary routines are forgotten, but Sophia is too beautiful to rush through, so the body is pushed aside for the needs of the mind.

On this floor is a depiction of judgement day- Mary, Jesus and John the Baptist are in line with Jesus on a throne, the depiction is chipped away and a full picture is only known by a small recreation posted close by. John is shown to be sad with a brow frowed leaving me to wonder what it is he knowed. (another part taken out, this is just for my note for later)

Walking away from John the sad baptist christian activist I have a booger to pick, i do so and pause before the flick, in a place this holy how can i leave my sticky mark, i place it in my pocket instead.

As Shelby and i descend down another winding rock paved path we come upon a hole in the wall wide enough for my arm, i dare Shelby to stick hers into the darkness and she says "no, you," and i do, while my fingers are in but before my forearm is Shelby grabs, jerks and heaves a sound that stops my heart, pulls out my arm and from my mouth comes a slur of profanities that hold a crudeness that suprises my beloved attacker, we laugh and grab eachother elated at the moment we created. We walk out of Sophia and into the rest of our day.