Dusty Wyndow Blog

This is the first time I sit cross-legged in the bus, I'm absolutely exhausted as I go back home 7 in the morning, after what I call a once a year event. I can even still feel the weight of the enormous bags I had as we climbed that magnificent mountain, Jabal Moussa. It was yet another unforgettable event with the Night Collective , lovers of the night, with whom I went to a night in Nahr Ibrahim . My group was set to meet at Adma, at around 8:30 to move up to our landing point, where we'd park the cars and start the hike. Due to some mishaps, the appointment was delayed and we had to spend a bit more time on the famous Casino highway. It's been a dream to me to be standing there on the side that overlooks the Jounyeh bay, and simply be taking pictures for a whole night. There it was, right in front of me, but the unbelievable traffic restrained me on the other side, leaving me to car trail photos and some compositions of the moon. Oh, the moon :) the event last night w

On the 21st this month I was invited to the launching of the Media Association for Peace , MAP in short, at the Monroe Hotel in Beirut, by my friend, and one of the organizers, Aisha Habli. Having set up my schedule for the day, I decided to show up and squeeze-in an hour or so for the celebration, in between my work, the parliament protest, and the music festival happening all at roughly the same time. Vanessa Bassil giving her speach The place was packed, the organizers had apparently done a very good job organizing the whole thing. A welcoming lady at the entrance greeted me and showed me the way, a few more at the registration, and a lot more right at the door with a warm smile right before I stepped foot inside the auditorium. I blew a sigh of relief, thinking I was late to the ceremony; thank goodness we were all Lebanese: the organizers apparently sent invitations 30-minutes earlier, knowing there will still be people who would show up late, as always. "It is just

I still remember that day, I was a bit shy at the beginning, shy in terms of never had the chance to wear the official Hajj clothing ever before. I was browsing through the old emails in my outlook inbox, when all of a sudden an email with the title "photos" from my old friend Adnan was showing there, it took me instantly back to the day he told me he was going to visit me and Sam again in our apartment in Jeddah, back in the days. Well, Adnan was first our flatmate, until he resigned and moved to Riyadh; he had wanted that day to come to Jeddah for a sleepover and a trip to Meccah. It sure wasn't my first, but was surely my first attempt to do the renowned muslim Omrah. Sam, my wonderful flatmate had given me his clothes, all washed and cleaned, and showed me a guide on how to wear them, and all the regulations and rules to go with the Omrah. I have to admit though, such an occasion having its own formalities and structure had definitely added to the glam of it. I re