Skulls Heaven

Alleged Stain Figures of Schizophrenia During a three-month period I experienced, the effect of the psychosis I entered, as defined by psychiatrists, intensified and reached a schizophrenic point. I consider myself lucky as one of those who is rarely aware of their own condition. I knew what I was experiencing, harboring neither fear nor anxiety. The figurative stains flowing before my eyes, though not as colorful as I depicted them, would not be wrong to describe as extraordinary. The human mind is free and rich in variation; whether I call them mutant faces or entities, it is an unlimited creator. A unique science fiction of its own. The contour variations of the figures that emerged and moved on the surface were rich. Contour boundaries and the patterns they contained were adjacent to each other, sometimes nested, overlapping, and side by side. I watched their flows from surfaces, grounds, and sometimes from the atmosphere at varying speeds. Sometimes a figure that attracted my attention more would slow down, allowing me to observe it thoroughly. I think I was the one directing the flow speed of these figures. Neither fear overtook me nor anxiety about the future. It was as if I knew deep down that what I was experiencing was temporary. I am fortunate to have been able to possess this fearless consciousness. What if I were trapped inside a schizophrenia rich in visual abundance, what if I were stigmatized. According to psychiatry, schizophrenia is a syndrome that is seen as chronic rather than acute and has continuity. I first received support from psychiatric medications, but then I gave up because I got tired of going to the hospital every month. The journey was two hours. I struggled without medication, got bored, felt overwhelmed, but this situation carried me to a point where I should be. The medications didn't prevent these illusions, but they resolved my sleep problem and relieved the fatigue created by the unique thing I was experiencing. My constant curiosity about mysticism and metaphysical subjects also caused my current situation to seem like a blessing to me. My reconciliation with this extraordinary syndrome, which I found interesting rather than terrible, was easy. The detailed quality of the patterns I observed was astounding. Among the amorphous faces waving the flag of freedom from every angle, mythological beings sometimes mixed in. These were winged white and black dragons. This mythical figure has always impressed me. At my mother's request, who became aware of what I was experiencing, I was admitted to a clinic. About three months. Apart from all those interesting and unique figures I encountered, there were also special people I was happy to meet. They received me with an interest that amazed me. They spoke with me as if they had knowledge about the special thing I was experiencing. Some called me a god, some an angel, some gave me different names from Anatolian myths that I didn't know and don't remember now. I didn't think much about how this happened and what it meant. The hospital was of no benefit to me other than gaining weight. Before, during, and after the hospital, while I was in the syndrome, there was a team of men and women talking in my head. This team was observing me anatomically, trying to calm me down with suggestive words, making me feel that they were with me. The approaches of this suggestive team talking in my head, with the sensitivity of doctors, made me think of them as angels. After all, I was watching a different dimension or witnessing the game my mind was playing on me. Sometimes they made me smile and relax with their ridiculous comments, keeping me away from the fear I would feel. Sometimes they told me to kiss myself, to love myself. It was as if they tried to keep me away from fear by normalizing this extraordinary situation with realistic approaches. They made me feel that it was temporary. This visual and auditory "acute schizophrenia" syndrome that I experienced for three months, with attacks that intensified from time to time, remained as an unforgettable experience in my mind. In short, if there is an extraordinary high-frequency phenomenon, I think I briefly touched it. Schizophrenia is not a temporary illness. The fact that these metaphysical experiences are seen as meaningless and devoid of meaning, consisting of the totality of ancient human experiences, reminds me of an arrogant blindness. Ignoring the metaphysical world, belittling it, and deeming it suitable for the ignorance of the masses should leave one in shame. Metaphysics is the first step taken toward curiosity and truth. We have entered an age where acceptable experiments are being conducted regarding the reality that other constants that can exist—beyond the evolutionary constants of nutrition, reproduction, and geographical adaptation conditions—and that we can see different dimensions. From Carl Jung to Freud, the dilemma of modern man is that the order he exists in is far from showing him the truth. In this endless order of possession and competition, the individual knowing his own truth and being in cooperation by nature for hundreds of centuries. In the early periods of Islam, enigmatic figures like Hallaj-i Mansur said they encountered Allah in their meditations. A scholar like Ibn Arabi expressed that Allah had him write one of his works. More rational masters like Ibn Rushd could openly express that they did not believe in fate and the afterlife. This polyphony disappeared over time. Spirituality and its practices seem to be deliberately corrupted. The sharing of mystical experiences and esoteric secrets added much to man, but according to the rules, they were hidden from ordinary people. The point I want to reach is this: Whatever human or community that considers nature, a mountain, a majestic animal sacred; attributes divine powers to it; accepts a more spiritual atmosphere whether it resembles or not mythological existential forms that may belong to different dimensions, including the Abrahamic religions that I prefer to call truth, the occupying environment created by the modern world and the value of material seems like the enemy of the conscience that metaphysical world creates in its essence. The pain and meaninglessness suffered by the being enslaved to non-stop gain and ownership—human or product; some people's not giving importance to these cores or not being able to make sense of them makes him more human. The isolation and alienation of mind and being causes man to distance himself and build an imaginary, lost, meaningless world for himself. This was exactly the reason for what I experienced. When I started to help myself with meditation and some mystical exercises during a period when I was lonely and in pain, and began reading every source I found, something must have been triggered. An escape. Schizophrenia is perhaps one of the methods found by the human mind; a conscious or unconscious, reflexive choice. I know schizophrenics who are satisfied with the world they enter during schizophrenic attacks. Most are unique and original with the poems, plastic arts, or different practices they produce in their own worlds. Another important characteristic of theirs is that they don't carry concerns like being understood or liked. Most schizophrenic attacks certainly don't contain the spectacular excitement I'm said to have experienced. What was extraordinary was that, despite the psychiatric acceptance that it's seen as acute, not accepted, and claimed to continue, my syndrome harbored the feeling from the beginning that it would have an end. The neon-like colors I felt in my focused meditations and sometimes saw in the sky made me think that modern mystics say that this impressive level I reached in a short time is sometimes reached much earlier, sometimes after many experiences, and that both are normal. In this case, I doubted whether what I experienced was a schizophrenic attack or, if my concentration capacity was above normal, a visual and auditory experience. I cannot consider myself to have experienced a laborious Sufi experience, but could I have reached the level of fana fillah, alone in my workshop, without using any psychiatric medication; only through meditation, getting lost in the patterns I drew randomly by freehand, and the dhikrs I performed from time to time, and also with the compositions of Gurdjieff, born in Kars, who harmonized Anatolian melodies while telling the world that telepathy is possible, spinning around in the middle of my workshop? The deprivation caused by a tragic and painful separation I experienced seemed to lie at the core of the matter. In fact, the whole endeavor started with the aim of getting rid of this deprivation. Suddenly falling from a devotion to nothingness. My escape from this nothingness was possible with non-stop production. I tried to record the illusion flowing before my eyes with paint, pencil, and surfaces. The enthusiasm that got stuck was reflected on the surface. My first works were upcycle assemblages I made with waste materials on large-sized house doors. Over time, I completely abstracted from a search. After the medications I stopped, my sleep became forbidden; staying sleepless for days made me tense but carried me to a tired but intense consciousness. I watched the clouds. My view was a boundless horizon. First, I looked for figures in the clouds. These shapeless or shaped figures in this totality flowing before my eyes became my source of inspiration. What else could I try to depict. I enjoyed it. These are figures, mostly drawn in mixed technique on 70x100 plexiglass, replicas of these observations. I tried to draw some of them as if they came from another artist's drawing. Quite a difficult endeavor. A person's drawing is like his fingerprint; I didn't want to follow a certain style and pattern. This endeavor of mine could continue throughout the flow of the said moving figures. Defining my works as "abstract graffiti" seems appropriate to me. Although each figure created has separate forms from each other, when they come nested, overlapping, and side by side, they reach a composition and wholeness. In this age when new physics can observe geometric shapes from other dimensions, I too tried to convey, as much as my hand allows, the figurative interpretations belonging to another dimension that accompany these geometric shapes and that I once witnessed with excitement—perhaps produced by my mind, perhaps as sacred plants show us—with the agility of a street artist's or graffiti artist's tag.

• Painting Type: Acrylic
• Year: 2025
• Style: Abstract
• Subject Matter: Figure
• Surface: Wood Panel
• Dimensions: Width: 70 × Height: 100 × Depth: 0.004
• Orientation: Vertical/Portrait
• Frame: Unframed
• Color Palette: Multicolor
• Technique: Brush Work
• Finish: Varnished
• Signature: Signed
• Condition: Excellent
• Authenticity: Original
• Edition: