Sunday, August 31, 2014
But there's no story there. What exactly are you trying to say? Ja asked.
No story! I exclaimed. Canary yellow against the blue, no story? Who painted it, no story? How long has it been standing there, no story? Who are the boatmen? What kind of people are they? No story? Isn't the absence of stories a failure of perception? Isn't it even a failure of the imagination?
Saturday, August 30, 2014
Tuesday, August 26, 2014
Saturday, August 23, 2014
Morning starts with Ja telling me if you really want to be a photographer you have to get up and watch what the sun’s first rays are doing to the mosque, get up, what are you doing there, lying down, you, spoiled lazy brat, just a few seconds and this moment is gone; I said, what do you mean, just a few seconds, are you sure you're talking to me? I live here for a long time, don't you realize? I have taken millions of pictures of that mosque and they all look the same, I’m tired, I’m still sleepy, I have memory loss, and I still have to finish my dream to retrieve my memory, otherwise, I’ll feel lost and tired the whole day. As soon as I said this, I get up anyway to take a picture of the Al-Ziddiq Mosque.
Monday, August 11, 2014
After I chased Pam to the third or was it the fourth or the fifth (?) floor of the unfinished building, where, as soon as she saw me, she glared at me saying, what are you doing here--you and your fear of heights? Go down, go down, just leave me alone, I can easily get this thing done. I said it's not about my fear of heights that is the problem here, finish what you're doing as fast as you can and let's get out of here, ASAP! All the while I saw the man or whoever it was at the construction site looking at us, with loathing, looked Pam up and down with such a look of contempt, why does he look angry, full of hate, am I just imagining things? I smiled my best smile to the man, hoping to break the ice, hoping his hatred will somehow thaw, but sometimes my charm just wouldn't work and this was just one of those times.