I love the nazar boncuğu, also known as the evil eye. A famous symbol of protection that looks evil right in the eye and says, “Not today.”
The nazar is popular in many parts of the world, and one place it is particularly loved is Turkey. If you visit Turkey, you’ll see nazars embedded in concrete, hanging above doors in homes and businesses, strung in multiples on trees, sold in souvenir shops (in every variety you can imagine), pinned on babies, made into earrings, pendants, rings, bracelets, and anklets. You can understand that the nazar is a deeply rooted cultural symbol.
I was one of those babies with a nazar pinned to me, and as I grew up, I was in and out of Turkish homes in Sydney, Australia that had their own decorative nazars. When I lived on my own for the first time, I decorated my home with nazars too, and ever since, I’ve seen it as a symbol of love that brings me closer to a culture and community I cherish and feel such warmth in. And yet, even with all this closeness, a part of me has always wondered, what does it mean to belong?
I can say that a lifetime growing up between two worlds has always led me into deep reflection and contemplation about how we belong and don’t belong to culture. What are the indicators? Is it language, the way you look, the bloodline you carry, how familiar you feel, the cultural practices you keep, the food you make? Is knowing one’s culture a big part of knowing oneself?
There has always been a shifting for me. I move in and out of identifying with these indicators; they shift as I shift, amongst people, in different places and spaces. What I describe here might sound like discomfort, and at times, it has been, but there is comfort in the knowing and not knowing, too.
In 2016, I made a video artwork that I believe was the first time I could accurately share a visual on my feelings and experience of belonging and not belonging. The video is called Dinle, which in Turkish means listen. The scene is a wintry street in Istanbul, very ordinary, people going about their day, shopping, getting on buses, smoking on the street. The audio plays dialogue between two men speaking. I transcribed all I understood of the conversation, leaving visible gaps in the subtitles where I didn’t understand what was being said. It turns out I only really understood about 15% of the entire conversation.
Dinle (2016) – Video, audio & subtitles, 1 min 25 sec
When I look back on this video, this ordinary street scene stirs something in me. I like seeing Istanbul and imagining being there. I can feel what it’s like, what’s inside those shops, the smells on the streets, the warmth inside those apartments. But I also feel my foreignness when I realise I can’t fully understand what’s being said around me.
In 2019, I was part of a group show in Bangkok, Thailand. I presented a work titled Deconstructed Nazars, this work was formed of two large nazars taken apart and placed on a wall. It was the first time I began to think of the nazar, this cultural symbol I love so much, as something I could deconstruct. To recreate it in a large size and pull it apart to play with its placement was something I did instinctively, as a form of play. But as I continued to shift and move the pieces physically around, I started to wonder: if this is a symbol of a culture I feel I love and belong to, look how I can reshape it, pull and piece it together in several different ways. There wasn’t just one way for these nazars to be.
Deconstructed Nazars (2019) – Wood and acrylic paint
So here we are in 2025, and I have created a game as an artwork called Floating Nazar, this time the circles that make up the nazar float freely of their own will. You can pick them up and try to stack them in place, but as soon as you let go of one, it floats away again. You can never quite get it right.
Floating Nazar (2025) – Interactive Game (HTML, CSS, JS)
It means a lot for me as an artist to share what my experience in life is in the hope that it connects with others who can relate or have had similar experiences. I believe that we all live with identities that move and change. Sometimes we feel ease and comfort, other times not, memories can be good and bad, everything around us and in us shifts constantly.
I encourage you to play Floating Nazar here, and be reminded that we are always in flux, assembling who we are, like the pieces of the Floating Nazar: sometimes aligned, sometimes scattered, constantly evolving. On reflection, I can say that identity is not fixed but alive, and both comfort and discomfort have a place in our journey.
With love and hugs,
🌹jda
P.S. I made a fun video to promote Floating Nazar, watch it below. Enjoy!





