Dusty Wyndow Blog

And will never have one, not in the near future at least, to clear things out first and foremost. It's become a trend lately for anybody who's reached a certain level of progress (both technical & artistic) in photography, to seriously consider promoting their work in order to, out of oh-so-many reasons, possibly earn a buck or two on the side, or it could be simply to create this one point where "fans" can follow their most recent work. Photography has always been a breath of fresh air to me, no matter how cliche it might sound, but it definitely is. Photography has definitely taken me to places I would never even imagine myself being if it weren't for my camera. I was doing pretty well at some point in the past (and still do, hopefully) when a few friends approached me to launch a Facebook page, some even insisted I'd do so. Most of these calls were turned down eventually, me thinking that it's an absolute waste of time. "I...

I admit I was feeling so furious tapping my mouse and my keyboard buttons trying to scout the interweb to get a good reach of what's going on in my capital, in my country, a million kilometers away. Just like every other Lebanese expat around the globe, we were feeling the walls closing up on us, all stuck and struck with what we're seeing. It took me a while (til the morning after) to realize, though, how big and beautiful what happened was, and all that's still happening til this moment [ Thousands protest against government in Beirut-TDS ]. I'm not here to make a journalistic recap of the protest and its byproducts, I just felt, as a photographer and a Lebanese individual, who just couldn't make it there, that I'd share in one blogpost what my fellow photographers have captured, whether professional photographers or amateurs, during yesterday's escalating circle of events, in a way to show my appreciation towards what they did, the guts they had ...

Harout Do you know that instant in which something is happening when all of a sudden you realize that this, in fact, is yet another unforgettable incident? You know that moment when you get goose bumps because you know, in the speck of that instant, that you’re on the verge of learning your next life lesson? Do you know what it feels like to see, touch and live a history book? He held my hand so tight and didn't let go until he had finished talking. He uttered the words "your mother, your mother, your mother, your mother and then your father". His stuttering was the wake-up call that changed what that day was initially supposed to be. I was asked by a close friend to join him along at his grandpa's place and take a few portraits. I admit, I was  moved by his initiative especially that I knew my friend well, and this just proved to me that what I had in mind about him was true: he's this compassionate creature that yearns to mark a trace in this dis...

It wasn't until I had met Oriol that Wednesday in Gemmayze that I realized I’m finally going to teach photography in a refugee camp, the thing I had been dearly hoping to do, especially that my life was going to take a drastic turn. “Well of course you were accepted”, the words that made that day unforgettable found their way at last from his lips and to my heart. Despite of all that was going on with both my professional and personal life, all had to be put on hold for I was going on an unforgettable one-month trip that will manage to remain deep dug on my heart. Two professional photographers provided training in basic digital photography to 92 children aged between 12 and 16 for a period of seven months.  Among the beneficiaries, 46 are Syrian refugees and 46 from Lebanese host community families. In addition to developing the photography skills of the children, the program engendered in the children an appreciation of art and provided a productive outlet of self-expression thr...

www.natheerhalawani.com I never would have imagined the day I called the owners of Al Baba Sweets offering them a free photosession a couple years ago that, one day coming really soon, I would be congratulated by friends and family for my own website , the website that held my name. I ask myself sometimes where is this path taking me to, what am I doing here. I am fully aware this is my sense of insecurity due to the absence of somebody to drag me and guide me somewhere – as it’s always been – that is talking at the moment. I wholeheartedly listened to my close friends’ advice and rode the wave, and boy I must say it took me somewhere unbelievable. I’m officially a photographer now, I built a career identity that is available for the public and I can simply throw in my website to anybody wanting to see my work. I used to prepare collages and work for hours picking my photos and eliminating others, only to be able to send a sample or two of my work to a potential client. The we...

Anja Niedringhaus, killed today in Afghanistan in their car. Source I always thought they were invincible, reporters- whether writer, photographers, videographers, you name it - I thought they were the untouchables, the proteges.. "Never kill the messenger", a quality the ancient ethics of peace and war used to abide by, yet apparently not anymore. A 48yr-old world renowned German photojournalist Anja Niedringhaus was shot today and was killed instantly, all while her companion, Canadian reporter Kathy Gannon was wounded and is stable condition at the moment. Kathy Gannon, AP Special Regional Correspondent for Afghanistan and Pakistan, wounded at the same incident. Source AP had stated the following: A veteran Associated Press photographer was killed and an AP reporter was wounded on Friday when an Afghan policeman opened fire while they were sitting in their car in eastern Afghanistan. The author's emotionlessness is nothing but an image of the grave traumatic ...

The Lieutenant “I recognized you from your sneakers” . I wish I remember his name, for he had remained in the back of my mind till this day today. “I remember they were exactly like the ones I saw on that bus the other day. You’re going to Tripoli, right?” That was what one man who had picked me up, over two years ago, while waiting for a mini-bus to take me back home after one long hectic day at work. He pulled over and shouted “Tla3” meaning “hop in”, and to my utter surprise, being shouted at by an army lieutenant behind his driving wheel with his rugged military voice, was enough to obey, well at least until my curiosity was satisfied and I'd figure out what the hell was going on. It wasn't until he threw in those two sentences that I knew what he was talking about. A couple months earlier, it seems, he kind of met me on one of those huge Connexion buses to Tripoli, but – funny enough – he only remembers my white sneakers, the reason why he was more than certain it w...

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...