Yelda ATALIK

I was born in the 50th year of our Republic, as a teeny-weeny baby after a troublesome delivery. “May die.” the doctors had said, but I had held on. When I was a child, once I wished I would be an artist, and some other time, a policewoman. When I was in secondary school, I wished I could be a volleyball player some day, and when I was in high-scool, I wished I could be an environmental engineer. None of those childhood dreams have come true, I have come out to be an electrical-electronics engineer instead, with her jeans and boots on, a screw-driver in one hand and cables in the other, running about in the field, in between the systems, and around. I’ve liked shiny beads, red from the colours, the rainbow, the Sun, the stars, ice-cream, fairy tales, flying, and dreaming. And I have always liked the music, imitated singers, cut out a guitar from cardboard, blown transversly into my plastic recorder; but have never ever dreamed of playing a real musical instrument. The year 2000, that universal reference point in the calendars, was the year in which I became acquianted with the flute by chance. Then I told to myself, “Rather than regretting when you become 40, and saying ‘Alas! If only I had tried then!’, try once.” I’ve tried, been taken with its magic, liked it very much, and not been able to give up. Fortunately, I had tried then, now there is Lirik Nefesler! This group is also magical! It is good for your soul! You play, you listen, you think, you become tired, you feel excited, you turn red, you share, you take, you give, you learn, you love, you grow… You live, this is gorgeous.