Merve MorkoçAbout

Body as sculpture, voice as its echo.
Like a fence with porous boundaries, always shifting.
A detective of dubious attempts, chasing the heavy
and the barely graspable.

Process over permanence, movement over resolution.
An ongoing experiment where form is but a momentary pause —punctuated by Notes app poetry.



Don’t be afraid to suffer—take your heaviness / and give it back to the earth’s own weight / the mountains are heavy, the oceans are heavy. ∆ Rainer Maria Rilke, from Sonnets to Orpheus ∆  




whataweek.prproj 🆚 fiat dobloJust another ordinary day at the studio—I was messing around with my wig and fake breasts—when a Fiat Doblo pulled up outside. Two furious men got out and barged in. After a barrage of shouting, threats, and a full-blown fight, I ended up spending the night at the police station. I later found out that one of them was a wanted criminal and the brother of the studio owner. I filed a complaint, and after months of living in fear, he was finally arrested—only to be released soon after.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is what it means to be a female artist in Turkey: one eye on your work, the other always on the door.