"Gizem Okulu’s Now, Voyager moves with agile force from solitary crash-landings to collective marches, from shouts of unity to lines of separation – dividing ‘your earth from mine’.  Its language mashes histories of empires and moon voyagers, launching future rebellions between space and foreign lands. But in the tumult of its motion there is no right side to fight on, only unexpected subterfuge, seeping and sliding through the enemy, unexpected dances of solidarity, ‘Under the swaying sky’. Now, Voyager is scaled up to the edge of what might hold you, because in the risk of losing you, it holds others – sometimes running or waltzing – in its frame. This is a poetry that refuses to place a limit on who ‘we’ are, though it does let you know ‘If you pinch us we will scream’. Whoever you are, you should read this, whoever we are." - Rosa van Hensbergen