Dusty Wyndow Blog

Sine Wave "When you reach to your very source of being, where you are completely in the mood of the spring, and the flowers are showering on you, you suddenly feel a gratitude not directed to anybody, just like a fragrance arising out of you, just as incense brings ripples of smokes and fragrance, moving towards the unknown sky and disappearing" Left the taxi heading back home, it was only a couple 100s of meters and was totally worth the walk, yet all of a sudden I get this instant urge to be thankful.  And there I was, foolishly singing my thankfulness along all while not being able to resist smiling and waving my hands up in the air. Weird eh? I’d definitely point at me by calling myself a lunatic if I ever bumped into me, but I was happy, who cares then? "A sine wave is predefined, pre-programmed and pre-destined. It's the symbolism for life, ups and downs. And it is found to be the base harmonic for literally everything in life. And we, humans, are no diffe

It is not usually that hard to remember the bits and details of an overwhelmingly happy night. Walkabout Drum Circle and friends gathered the night before at EM Chill pub in Mar Mikhael for yet another outstanding African rhythms performance, and to bid farewell to Tom Harris, therapeutic drumming instructor and veteran Djembe player, who came all the way from Atlanta to share along his deep knowledge. It was the night I was at my happiest. Allow me first to break the common rule of spreading out thank yous at the end (don’t get me wrong, I’ll do it eventually), but it’s just that I really feel so grateful at this moment. Thank you Jade and Walkabout Drum Circle for one unforgettable night. I still am not able to remember a single dull moment, a detail that pissed me off, a thing I didn't feel comfortable about. In fact, my day yesterday was so dreadful I couldn't’t smile all day long, yet, there was the night with the Walkabout. You guys made my week! Alright, time f

The only fact that I spent last night with my all-time favorite Lebanese underground band, Mashrou’ Leila, is enough to get my hyped for the coming month, well how about meeting one of the most impeccably attractive voices of all and not recognizing her until the day after? Yes, I met Hindi Zahra and I couldn’t even recognize her then. However, my morning was totally different. A team of photographers had invaded the corridors of Al Safadi Cultural Center for the occasion of covering TEDxAzmi main event on November 23 rd 2013, and I was to coach them throughout the day.  They received well my hints and tips and therefore were more than ready to cover the event. We shared lenses and we exchanged batteries, I saw every one of them putting effort into getting those shots and making history until next year where the event’s assumed to get bigger and better. I never felt any prouder to have been the one to cover such an event from A to Z, with the help of my fellow

The Tripoli Film Festival Committee representatives welcomed us at the entrance of the city complex venue, where [ Journey of stars into the dark night ] by Arnel Mardoquio was scheduled to play as part of the film festival that day, Friday November 15 th 2013. The place was packed, friends have come over together in groups, families as well, couples and enthusiasts from all around Tripoli only for the sake of watching that renowned 117-minute movie. It was the free entrance that I found most serviceable, for it was convenient and an added value to the residents of this poor town. How lovely would it be to read this kind of review about the film festival in Tripoli? First paragraph is a lie, oh no wait, I’d better say It was my personal vision of what I had wanted to see, my own aspiration, my expectations toward the event the moment I knew about it, regardless of my frustration at the organizers and the absolute lack of coverage and exposure for the festival. In fact, what happene

Takbeerat March, Photo by Ahmad M. Halawani I would never forget her when she followed our trail when leaving the khankeh, begging us for some diapers for her child, thinking we were some sort of an association, and not knowing that every lira was either donated by people who never knew each other, and by our own pocket money. That was more heartbreaking than anything else that whole time. I'm talking about the time we visited the "Khankeh", a place well known to old Tripolitans. It's the place where widows gather and are sorted out in a room each with her children, and sometimes more than a family need to fit inside the same room. I was explaining to my dear friend Soha, who came all the way from Beirut to Tripoli to celebrate Eid our own way, and cheer up the kids of Khankeh. I was explaining to her the history of this place, and how it was established and treated during the ottoman empire, and how it eventually ended up a worn out shelter for a bu

Now that the Cirque Du Solei l has ended their series of shows in Lebanon, Beirut, with their phenomenal act Dralion, I thought it was time to let go of the photos and tell a bit of how I managed to go there, watch the whole show, free of charge. It wasn't until a couple night earlier that I got that message asking me if I would be interested to shoot the show at the Forum De Beirut, on the opening night, October 10th 2013, for it was the only night photographers were allowed. With no hesitation whatsoever, and after checking my schedule, there I was, booked for the show on a Thursday night. It was then when I met Rana, the curator of the agency I'm cooperating with, the Lebanon EGuide travel and tourism agency, who therefore led me inside the premises of the Forum. I was surprised yet relieved of the amount of measures taken against photographers and videographers, a signof unmatched professionalism I must say. I had to sign a paper stating (generally) that I won

One of the most beautiful pictures I ever seen. The clown mob in Tebbaneh and Jabal Mohsen I wonder how easy it is to make somebody's day. Now that I and some friends had brightened the day of more than 200 children at least, I can simply ask myself what would stop me next from bringing joy to somebody's heart. I and everybody else have heard a handful of "You're the first ones to visit us in Eid", how could that be cold-heartedly overheard anymore? All it took was Mu'taz's message last night, inviting a bunch of local friends for a gathering the next day morning. Point was to visit the two most damaged and violent areas in Tripoli: Jabal Mohsen and Tebbaneh. The resonance of both names in the back of our minds was an alerting sign of a bad thing to happen, only for a split second. But in fact, several got the kick to declare their participation and say "I'm in". Although rumours were spreading around yesterday in town (as they alwa

I am happy. It was the bird's chirp that got me that boost of energy to get up and go out. I've been sick for the last 2 days, the flu has taken its toll on me to the point I was literally powerless, all until that bird came up to the window next to me. In fact I didn't see it yet. What's so special about that chirp is that it's been seriously forever that I heard birds chirping in Tripoli. My first stop, the book seller. My bike was already waiting for me downstairs, ready for our usual tour around tripoli, but not this time though. Everything was so slow, well at least slower that usual. I'm known to be using my bike whenever I'm in Tripoli, very few are the times I "walked" over there, yet today was this very few. I had never realized how much I'm missing out on. I was happy, even with the littering all around, I was happy. I had the chance to walk around tripoli, in its old rotten alleyways. I was able to slowly grasp my s

نِمشي ونِمشي.. Isn't it surprising this shift to the blog back again instead of posting on Facebook? I wonder what's the reason that pushed me this morning to fill that white emptiness of my blog, growing molds all around from all the drafts thrown away on the side waiting the day to be published. My morning was extremely emotional, with no specific reason, and No, it's not my period, yet. Could be the grief over the few people we lost this week, even if I never had met them. The feeling of sorrow to have heard this morning a close friend of mine was threatened with murder and now is leaving the country with all means. The feeling of despair over myself with all the personal challenges I'm facing and the endless errands I need to finish. Could be the insurmountable joy to see friends achieving their dreams, growing up and becoming better people. To feel a pulse of creativity upon meeting an artist with an impeccable work last night. The joy and anticipation o