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Summer collapsed like a rotten tower.

What we went through was like a torrent rushing down from the mountains.

It flooded the plains and valleys

Shaking the trees from their roots as it passed.

Now the cool winds of autumn are blowing.

The swallows have long since left the island.

And I.

I killed you.

I killed you.

Now you belong only to me.

Biriçim.

Come on, we're leaving.

Biriçim.

I barely got it through the door.

It's pretty heavy.

Your uncle had taste. My uncle?

It has nothing to do with pleasure. He was just different, that's all.

Could you help a bit.

Hold it like this, yes.

If you ask me, this belongs to an earlier time.

Maybe, it's the armchair Ivan the Terrible used while drinking.

- What do you think? - Your imagination is unmatched.

Not imagination, if you ask me, it's Ivan the Terrible's armchair.

Well then, dear Ivan.

I'll leave you alone with your power.

I have to go.

Biriçim.

Biriçim.

Biriçim.

Biriçim.

Even the ferry rides have started to feel tiring now.

What's up? What did you do today?

- What could I do? - I don't know. - See.

You're acting strange again today.

You must be hungry.

I'll fix dinner.

I forgot again, didn't I?

Four years is enough time to forget some things.

I'm sorry.

I forgot last year too.

My head is a mess.

Everything is scattered.

Work and life, I just can't get it together.

Yes, you didn't forget.

You didn't forget last year either.

I get you, but please try to understand me too.

With this much running around,

isn't it natural for me to forget things?

The fact that you didn't forget isn't proof of anything.

You're home all day.

You've let everything go. You don't even paint anymore.

- What does painting have to do with this? - How could it not?

Remember those days you never left the studio.

And now you haven't even touched paint for two years.

Did you forget today because I don't paint?

Don't be ridiculous, you know perfectly well what I mean: work and all that.

Maybe plans and projects just aren't your thing.

But don't forget that everything we have right now,

that work you look down on,

we got thanks to plans and projects.

You're drifting away from everything.

From the house, from me.

From painting.

I don't know what you're looking for, why does painting bother you this much?

Because I don't believe you'll get anywhere by painting.

Let's start eating before your appetite closes off any further.

We'll be eating together anyway.

You're right to be upset.

But today was really a busy day.

Nothing is going right at the construction site.

Everything is falling behind.

The moment you're not on top of it, everything goes off the rails.

It doesn't matter.

Amid this chaos, I forgot to tell you.

My friend Ömer, who's been living in America for years, is coming.

Had I ever told you about him?

Who did you say?

Ömer.

We were inseparable.

You have no idea how much I've missed him.

Did you know the garden needs a lot of care?

It's overrun with weeds.

Alright, I admit I was wrong.

- It's not about being right or wrong. - Anyway.

Let's forget this argument.

It's chilly here, you'll get cold.

Ömer's plane arrives at four tomorrow.

I'll pick him up from the airport and bring him straight here.

He'll have a quiet, peaceful vacation here.

How about we prepare the room next to the studio?

He can sleep there.

Why can't I paint anymore?

Do you think everything is over?

Leave this for now.

You've had a really hard day.

I'm burnt out, aren't I?

I'm going to bed.

You're cold, why don't you go to bed and rest too.

Sleep well.

After the skyscrapers, this place may feel strange to you.

But what can we do, there's no other choice.

I hope you get used to it.

When I'm inside a skyscraper, it doesn't feel like the sky at all.

I feel as if I'm underground.

Biriçim.

- Biriçim. Make yourself at home. - Want something to drink? - Sure.

Welcome.

Yes, I'm Ömer.

Have you met?

Let's sit.

After work I have a drink.

I'm used to it now.

Just one? Don't stop, keep it going till the evening.

How do you get along with drinks?

Oh my God.

How is that possible?

Who is this man?

You'll see, it's going to be nice.

- You'll love it here. - I suppose.

It's a quiet place.

I still can't believe it, look at this.

After years, at the same table again.

I wouldn't have imagined it either, to be honest.

Everything happened all of a sudden.

I was exhausted.

I needed a change like this, I even missed it.

Many long years have passed.

So many things have changed.

America is a big country, right?

Every country is big.

That's not what matters.

The system is vast, that's what really matters.

Everything comes at you...

On a scale you can't even imagine.

The grandest architecture.

The grandest art.

The greatest violence.

It knocks a person off balance.

Right, that's the law of it.

Imbalance.

Let's say...

The elevator you take to reach your apartment

can go up to the 40th floor.

At the 40th floor you'll switch elevators.

In the corridor,

a short man

and a tall dog pass by you.

Am I on the ground or in the sky?

Where is this place? Who am I? One gets all mixed up.

Imagine ships passing between a woman's legs.

A human being...

What can one do but lose balance?

But the scariest part is...

People gradually getting used to it,

and this imbalance

turning into a way of life.

Let me go.

Let me go.

Let me go.

I'm not crazy.

I'm not crazy.

Let me go.

Let me go.

Let me go, let me go.

I'm not crazy.

Dogs.

Wolves.

Let me go.

Come on, my dear, let's get out of here.

Look, dear, there's nothing to be afraid of.

Your uncle isn't feeling well. That's all.

In a little while, everything will be fine.

- Come on. - We've been through a lot.

Now that I think about it, it's really hard to recapture those days.

Don't be so pessimistic.

Every period has its own beauty.

What's so great about it?

We can't find time for ourselves because of all the rushing around.

You didn't eat much, but,

the food was wonderful.

I'm not very good at cooking.

Don't listen to her.

There are some women who

turn the dinner table into a flower garden.

Out of eggs,

a basket of mushrooms;

out of carrots, yellow flowers;

out of tomatoes, roses.

When I'm faced with a table like that,

the house turns into a track between the table and kitchen,

running from the table to the kitchen and back again.

Big-breasted.

A fat woman with a big bottom appears before my eyes.

You know, you haven't changed at all.

Let me show you your room.

Who does the paintings?

This is your room. I opened the door to air it out a little.

- Make yourself comfortable. - I'll take a shower.

Do you smell the paint?

Go on, smell it.

It's the only true scent, cleansed of all decay.

Smell it.

But that's not enough.

You must also hear the voice of red calling you.

Listen.

Can you hear...

the breathing of yellow?

Look at me.

Do you understand what I'm saying.

You must understand.

Wolves are devouring the magic of understanding and communication.

All the spells...

and colors turned into pure worms.

Scorpion-headed ones.

Scorpions.

I will burn all the family trees.

No trace of anyone will remain.

No one will know whether these lived or not.

Scorpion-headed ones.

Scorpions.

This is how you will paint.

This is how you should paint the world.

As it comes from within.

But with discipline.

But with respect.

As if living.

I would have loved to have such a talent.

Then I wouldn't be stuck in the middle of technical chaos.

Information.

Numbers.

Screens.

Artificial brains.

I suppose that has its good sides too.

These paints...

the brushes have dried.

I haven't painted in a long time.

Or rather, I can't.

Only the brushes...

It would be nice if the paints dried.

It feels like something inside me has dried up too.

How did you find your room?

Nice.

Good night.

It has an untouched look.

In fact, if you were to excavate, you'd bring ancient civilizations to light.

If I had the chance to go back,

I'd want to live here.

I'd find a quiet, calm corner,

- I'd probably keep to myself. - After America.

What you're saying is very difficult. You'll get bored here.

From time to time I get bored there, too.

Sometimes I really miss things.

Certain things.

And those know‑it‑all computers can't fix it.

Then stay here.

Ooh, Mata Hari, brought coffee in exchange for your secrets.

Aren't you cold? It's very cool here.

You're joking, fine.

We'll drink it from our palms, then.

Or we won't drink at all, simple.

Not that simple. I'll go get it now.

Just absent‑mindedness.

Do you think it's just a little absent‑mindedness?

And aren't you going to say anything?

Everything is a complete mess.

I can't understand you.

We've been stuck in a dead end for days.

What's happening?

I don't know.

I don't understand what's going on either.

Everything is coming back to life before my eyes.

I'm being swept along by a wind whose direction I can't make out...

As if.

Ever since the day you came, I don't know.

I don't know anything.

- Is all this about me? - Yes.

No, I mean, I didn't mean it like that.

I told you, I don't know.

You or someone else, what difference does it make?

Everything has started to turn into a no-win game.

You left it in the kitchen.

Give it to me, I'll do it.

What are those?

The things I have to deal with tomorrow.

I don't know if I'll be able to sort it out.

Even in bed, work.

What's wrong?

I can't figure out how I should treat you anymore.

You'd better pull yourself together.

We can't live like this.

Everything has its rules.

What's going on?

Did you spend the night here?

This is too much, though.

Go get some rest, take a shower.

You'll feel better.

I'm going.

See you tonight.

You could at least talk to me.

Look, this is how you should paint,

softly.

Like a fish swimming through water,

relaxed.

Relaxed.

Swaying as you go.

Come on, start.

Go on.

To paint,

is to be by yourself.

Alone with yourself.

With no one else.

Alone.

Even something that doesn't exist in the world,

you can create it.

When you paint.

Everything you see,

you can draw the way you want to see it.

You are the creator.

When you paint.

Here, paint for you.

How many eyes does a person have?

Two.

No.

You can draw ten eyes if you want.

Then you'll see better.

Here.

This is yours.

It has two eyes.

For now.

Come on, start drawing then.

It still has two eyes.

I can't believe all this.

An old studio, what's happening?

The smell of paint.

The magic of scraps of cloth.

Pains.

Pains.

Are you okay?

I'm fine, very fine.

That painting...

is not a painting I did.

Drawing a person is hard.

It doesn't give itself away.

They live underground like teeny little worms.

If you want to draw a person, you must look with your inner eye.

With the inner eye you show to no one.

Do you understand me?

One day you'll understand everything.

All of it.

And then they...

will sting themselves like scorpions.

Scorpions.

I'm going to tear them all apart.

I'll destroy them all.

They'll see.

They'll see.

They'll see.

They'll see.

I don't like any of them.

Not a single one.

They don't know that.

They don't know.

Wolves.

Wolves will rip through them all.

Bloodsuckers.

Leeches.

Leeches.

Leeches.

Listen.

Death is life itself.

You'll paint life the way you paint a picture.

A human.

Humans are dangerous.

Their essence.

Their inclinations.

Have you ever looked around during a full moon?

In the darkness of the night,

have you watched the hollows where the moonlight slips in and out?

The tree branches,

turned by the moonlight

into the arms and bodies of unknown creatures.

It will show you paths as well.

Don't forget.

Is four years enough time to forget some things?

Please.

What matters isn't who's right or wrong.

Do you think everything is over?

Are you alone?

You came early today.

Weren't you expecting me?

I was feeling tired.

I saw it wasn't going to work out...

I left and came.

Where's Ömer?

He went out in the morning; he hasn't returned yet.

He said he was going to tour the island.

Shall we talk a bit?

Or is there something you want to tell me?

Would you like a drink?

Yes, give me a drink too, please.

Hi.

You've started to like the island now.

It was a nice day, I went up to the monastery on the hill.

It must have been a beautiful place in its time.

You look tired.

I'm a bit tired.

I suppose you'll have a drink too.

I'll get it myself.

Don't trouble yourself.

Wait, not there.

Don't drink anymore.

Am I bothering you?

Sorry, it's just I've never seen you drink this much.

I've been thinking for a long time.

There hasn't been a chance to talk.

They look modern, but,

they leave me with the feeling they're connected to the past...

In me.

I'm talking about your paintings.

Past or future, what difference does it make?

I went through all these experiments for nothing.

My years have been spent and gone.

And I, with empty hands,

found myself as someone who hasn't gotten anywhere.

You lived and you saw.

That's all. You thought some things would be easy.

This is how I found myself.

All these years,

labor,

hope,

all turned into an old graveyard.

My shoulders have finally slumped.

I'm no different from a ruin now.

You're mistaken.

I'm not mistaken.

You didn't sleep?

I'm sorry about tonight.

It was rude of me.

I need to apologize to Ömer, too.

What are you thinking?

- My uncle. - How did your uncle come into this now?

I never told you about him, did I?

Apart from Ivan the Terrible's armchair.

Yours.

I mean the chair you claim belongs to Ivan the Terrible.

How strange.

It's like that's the only thing left from my childhood.

My mother, my father.

My aunt, our house.

They're all like an old photograph.

They faded away, yellowing little by little and disappearing.

In my childhood.

Only that remained.

My uncle.

The candles.

The snake paintings.

That strange studio of his that gives a person a dungeon, like feeling.

It's as if it was nailed into my brain with thick nails.

I don't know why.

Everyone was afraid of him.

With his long hair and beard, he frightened those around him.

As the people around him excluded him,

he in turn did not refrain from spewing his hatred toward them.

Yet how gentle...

He was a warm person.

I knew there were storms raging inside him.

He couldn't explain what he thought to anyone.

He couldn't make peace with anyone.

He lived among people like Robinson Crusoe.

Yet he didn't have a problem with anyone, not even with those closest to him.

Even my mother was afraid.

She wouldn't allow him to approach the children.

Yes, I was watching you.

Take these.

I can't paint anymore.

You should work.

You should paint your own light.

Only your own light.

As it comes from within.

I brought you one more thing.

It's more important to me than your family tree.

Don't forget.

Your own light.

I'm so glad you came.

- I missed you. - You're no different from a liar.

Someone who misses reaches out.

You could at least have made a phone call.

You're right, I'm in a messy state these days.

- Çiçekli Dağ. - Right away.

What's going wrong?

I didn't like the way Ahmet sounded on the phone yesterday, either.

- Was it Ahmet who called you? - Yeah, and I thought it was your idea.

What did you talk about?

We vented a little, that's all, that's all.

We didn't talk much. But something is off.

You don't need any special effort to notice it.

There was no need to try.

What is there that isn't going wrong? We lost hold of the thread once.

Hold on, what's with the pessimism?

It's not pessimism at all.

Everything has gotten mixed up; I can't make sense of it anymore.

It feels like I've been chasing the wrong things all along.

I can't find any of the things I'm looking for.

Everything is losing its meaning in my eyes.

Leave this talk; pull yourself together a bit.

I want to, too, but it doesn't work.

Most important of all, most important, I can't paint anymore.

It's temporary; don't dwell on it.

How could it be temporary?

It's been at least two years since I last painted.

When I'm going to paint...

the canvas looks at me; I look at the canvas.

I feel like I'm in a vast emptiness.

You're very bored, come with me.

A bit of change will do you good.

- No, I don't want to. - But you're not very well here.

Still, I don't want to leave here.

- Forgive me, I upset you too. - Don't be silly.

Go on, have your coffee.

Ahmet mentioned that you had a guest.

Ömer is an old friend of Ahmet's.

- Where is he now? - He must be touring the island.

He's probably tiptoeing now.

Under his feet.

As if there were things that would break.

Data, numbers, screens.

Yes, go on, tell me what's going on.

Come on, you thought I didn't understand?

I don't know.

I don't know anything.

You're playing a dangerous game.

If you ask me, Ahmet is aware of everything.

It's almost midnight, your guest...

Still nowhere to be seen.

Yes, he's very late.

I was curious too, to be honest.

Maybe he went to another island.

Could be.

Forget it.

- Whose painting is this? - My uncle's.

Your uncle, a painter? You have a painter uncle?

I did.

Are there any other paintings of his here?

No, they burned them all.

What?

They burned them?

Yes.

Somehow this one had been forgotten in a corner.

Years later it came into my hands.

How can such a thing be?

We lived in a big stone building in the lower part of the island.

Back then.

It had a huge garden.

I was about ten, give or take.

The deathly silence inside the house still lingered.

They had extinguished all the candles.

He used to paint by candlelight.

There was no electricity on the island back then.

When the candles went out,

All his paintings were plunged into darkness.

Suddenly, starting with little crackles,

flames that grew and grew engulfed everything.

The heat beat against the windows.

I saw from the window that all the paintings were being burned.

Like when someone dies of a contagious disease, their germ‑ridden...

belongings are burned.

They all seemed so frantic.

It was a horrifying sight, as if they were burning my uncle.

I wanted to scream with all my strength, but no sound came out.

Unbelievable.

Yes, it's unbelievable.

They rejected everything of his.

No one liked his paintings.

What a shame.

You're late, we were worried.

I didn't want to come back.

I wandered around a bit.

Let me introduce you.

My friend İnci. Ömer.

Biriçim talked a lot about you.

How much is "a lot," exactly?

May I go to bed?

I have to return on the first ferry tomorrow.

- Good night. - Tomorrow.

May I come along with you as well?

I need to buy my return ticket.

It doesn't make a difference to me.

Nothing at all. Tomorrow, the 7:30 ferry. Good night.

Crêpes.

You didn't have to behave like that.

You're being childish.

You're not going, right?

You won't go.

You are mine, only mine.

Let's leave it.

We're being ridiculous.

Hello, yes.

Ahmet, is that you?

I was preparing for the evening.

They are not here.

They left in the morning.

On the first ferry.

With İnci.

İnci stayed here last night.

I don't know.

I think to get a return ticket.

Are you not coming tonight either?

What is it, is the situation that bad?

Okay.

Goodbye.

Are you still thinking of returning?

I have to go back, you know.

Take me with you.

Nope.

I can't do that.

Is there no place for me in your life?

Everyone's life

belongs to themselves.

Is this selfishness?

What does this ceremony mean?

Aren't you going to explain?

Let's continue the ceremony with our drinks.

To your departure.

Whether you go or stay,

you belong to me forever.

Huh.