A Toast with the Devil

As the golden light of the sunset falls over Ayvalık, the wind gently caresses the windswept summit of Devil’s Table, and an echo of ancient beliefs seems to have settled into the stones. According to legends, the Devil’s footprint is said to be here. But whose footprint is it, really? Does it belong to a shadow, an illusion, or to a human? And does the form of a footprint remind us of how deeply things touch us, or is it just a reflection? Could a footprint, beyond everything, be a door to an empty space?

Footprints are not just etched in the soil, but in the soul. Every step buried beneath the earth is like an arrow slowly fading, yet the ache that reverberates deep within the spirit opens a door to what’s been lost. Each footprint is a loss, and every loss is the beginning of its own universe. Are we aware? With each step, how much are we unknowingly losing?

While the mind is swept away in the pursuit of a footprint, nature, where blue meets green, offers an image of endless tranquility. Yet, this calmness is the false stillness of a flow we are passing through. In the background, a rusty sign appears: "Footprint." It’s a reminder from the past, now transformed into the magic of time, like a sorrow. When did we leave a footprint, and does a spirit ever ask? Which true form defines us: our own reality, or the ghosts of others?

And in that moment, a figure enters the scene. Beneath their red boots, a space is held between presence and absence. With a cocktail in hand, they search for something—but in truth, they are not searching for anything. Their gaze reflects the fire within their soul, and every word they speak leaves a trace. No matter how deep it is, the identity dissolved in a cocktail has been sold to the currency of modern times.

And then their thoughts bubble into the air:
“The best cocktail… it almost cost me my soul.”
Not a mere sentence, but a resonance. For a moment's pleasure, how deep a price can be paid? Is it just a drink, or is something else being traded? For an instant, everything vanishes, leaving nothing but a fantasy, passing through without leaving a trace. To realize this is to create a loss that has been missing. As time flows, how much does it change us? Every choice is a loss, and every loss is a rebirth. But beneath this rebirth, does a truth that doesn’t belong to us lie hidden?

And the real question is: Are we aware of the footprints we leave behind?
Asking this question is to get lost within a reflection. Which footprint reveals which emptiness? Every step determines an unseen existence, yet everything is merely a fragment of the moment. Steps dance across time’s back like pieces of wind. With each moment, we don’t arrive at a destination, but instead shift towards another. The emptiness in our eyes holds the traces of everything we've left behind.

Do the footprints we leave really belong to a shadow, or do they transcend the shadow into something else? And as we lose ourselves with every step, do we ever look back? Or is it just a momentary mark, a part of an eternal existence?

The rusty sign offers a glimpse of a forgotten time, yet the sky remains a deep blue, and the sea infinite. This scene appears to be a call from another world, yet the shadow that seeps through is a trace of momentary existence. The figure in red boots, raising a glass, leaves only a mocking smile behind. A question comes:
“Who truly owns these footprints?”
Footprints are the echo of something that doesn't belong to us. A footprint may not belong to an existence, but perhaps it’s just a lost piece of a search. What we’re seeking, is it really ourselves who are lost in every footprint, or does this trace tell more than just one identity?

A question flies, fades. With every step, a footprint is lost. But when we look back, what do we find?

"In my creation, I have merged a photograph I took with a figure I drew, creating a language that blends two distinct forms—the tangible reality of the photograph and the abstract expressive power of the drawing. This fusion challenges the boundaries of the visual, expressing a pursuit of aesthetic depth that invites the viewer to go beyond the surface."