Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Yesterday, two of my friends and I went to see "Body Worlds". An exhibit here in Istanbul that presents the human body from the inside out. I was a little skittish about attending and not really motivated to go on my own. But, so many people had seen it and were encouraging me that it was great. So when Sema and Charlotte asked me to go, I thought I should. As it turned out, it was fascinating. Seeing how the muscles of the body are stretched and used was very enlightening for this squeamish type. Here are just a few pictures I captured from the Internet. There are many more, so go and check them out. Just do the google for "Body Worlds" images. (some are pretty graphic)
These are real bodies that have gone through a "Plasination" process that in some cases can take as many as three years. In the exhibit they showed the effects of smoking on the body and how it contributed to advanced aging. Also, fetus development at weekly intervals. Capillaries and arteries were also shown. I was so surprised at the denseness of the circulatory system. The focus of the exhibit was health and that the body is a remarkable instrument. It can be fine tuned and rescued. At the end of the show, near the exit was a clear box that had a hole the size of a cigarette package. I was amazed at how many packs there was in there.
Before we went to the exhibit, we had lunch at the main building of Istanbul Modern. They have a beautiful terrace and the view was fascinating. I stood there and took a few shots, dreaming of coming back there in the evening. If I could have a "do over" for my "Project 64:. . ." gray submission, I would use the close up birds. It was as if they were dancing for us.
The birds are so fascinating to watch -- I still sometimes catch myself thinking "I can't believe I am in Istanbul!" This was never on my radar and I would have probably never come here on my own. I had to many preconceived ideas about what it would be like. I now know, I am as safe as one of these birds. . .
Thank you for stopping by . . . Sheryl