Rumi Said... - Soulmate

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Apparently Two
But One in Soul
You and I

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The Tourist Is BACK!

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Group picture of (part of) the team that helped restore the Saeh Library in Tripoli Whenever I transfer pictures off from my camera’s memory card, I tend to name the transfer with whichever occasion that took place the moment the shots were taken at. I had never thought a day would come when I’d label my transfer “Saeh Beneath the Ashes”, the shock and trauma of that instant are still indescribable. But as I – and many others – had promised, the Library will be clean and will for sure shine like never before, in little to no time. Hence, today’s transfer was called “Saeh Renovated”, and it’s only the second day after the incident :) Being there at the library the whole day long and having to process so many pictures, gives me little time to get comfortable enough to remember tiny details and narrate about this and that of all the funny and silly moments throughout both days, today and yesterday, but all at the same time I can’t stop myself from transferring to whoever couldn’t show...
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Anonymous Confessions

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Let's play a game, shall we? Apparently there's been an exhibition, a public art project for the american artist  Candy Chang  who thought it would be interesting to open up a space where people can anonymously project their confessions, their deepest secrets, and enjoy the reaction of whoever reads it. Source: Original Article "By the end of the exhibition, over 1500 confessions were displayed on the walls. It’s about sex, love, or fears of dying alone. By collecting the confessions of the hotel’s visitors, this project seeks to create a cathartic sanctuary for this temporary community and help us see we are not alone in our quirks, experiences, and struggles as we try to lead fulfilling lives." Source: Original Article Source: Original Article This post is written for the benefit of the public. I invite you everyone to do the same, let's share our secrets. Hint : Post your confession in the comment field below while choosing the " ...
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The Death of Laurent Schwebel

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An email found its way to my inbox, with a PowerPoint presentation attached, seemingly having photographs inside, in a way to remember the great photographer Schwebel who was stabbed lately in Buenos Aires, while taking snapshots of a local memorial. Such emails are easily thrown into the garbage bin usually, but the familiarity of the photographer's name was the reason I opened the presentation: And what a shock that was! Firstly, here's a translated extract of the Swiss Grandes Espaces  on the latest incident: Wednesday morning, February 8, 2012, Laurent Schwebel, 52, was stabbed to death by a thug who stole his camera in the center of Buenos Aires. The murderer, 24, was chased by witnesses of the drama, and apprehended by the police. Lawrence returned from Antarctic trip with Christian Genillard, and rejoiced to discover the Iguassu Falls before returning to his Alsace. More on the incident is found here . Laurent Schwebel You might be wonder...
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Define: Zambo

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Noun Someone who is half-black, half American Indian. A pedigree of the human race. Excels at friendship, flip cup and being a magnet for women. A jerk. A jackass. Stupidity sometimes due to alcohol or drugs. – source Verb To have your face randomly and/or voluntarily painted by total anonymous strangers To join a mighty local march started by a group of people who proudly paint themselves in colors among which Black, Red or Blue. To have the fun of your life screaming your lungs out shouting the famous Zambo anthem To enjoy the fact that everybody’s happy around you To be able for a day a year at least, to have everybody stare at your pitch black face going back home and having your parents freaked out the first instant they saw you To add another unforgettable day to your life span of unbelievable facts To see the people of Mina drinking, dancing and singing to the tunes of Zambo all while having an outrageous dose of fun painting the faces of bypassers here and th...
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The Tourist That Shall Never Leave

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I never had thought I’d see the day when I mourn the library. I’m still literally traumatized, two hours later, convincing myself what I had heard about burning down the library was inaccurate, that some agencies are exaggerating and that it could be some ignorants were trying to cause damage to a shop nearby. It was all until I laid eyes upon that photo of the flames hurling out of the library’s door in that tiny alleyway, that I believed the news. The moment I heard of the news, and since I was at my place in Beirut, I packed my stuff instantly and tried to head back to Tripoli. To my bad luck, 40 minutes on the highway weren’t enough to get me a bus to my old city.. I felt so powerless I sat on the sidewalk and started shivering. A little while later, and just moments ago, the news was confirmed, the books are to ashes now, the old library is gone. I want you to understand it’s not about the books. Yes the books are worth a lot, a lot of money, a lot of effort, sweat, night shif...
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