Dusty Wyndow Blog

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...