Dusty Wyndow Blog

My head shook infinitely that Saturday afternoon, at the sight of the beach that my small balcony overlooks to, having changed color or so I thought. The noise/garbage covering the Arabian Gulf's surface seemed to be non-static. Within seconds, I managed to grab my camera, fix my tele-zoom lens and started snapping photos. I'm really clueless on what to say, or whether there's anything to say at all, they just kept on going and flowing until it seemed like it was forever. Quite an eccentric gift in my gloomy solitude. Enjoy.

Our first Volunteer, Mr. Michel from Koura. Picture by Rimal Abeed. Being severely brought down by all the notorious stench in the air the last few weeks, the three of us had decided to do something about it. Just as any other activity in Trablos, things had happened so spontaneously and smoothly. Discussions have been taking place for almost a month before that, but never were more serious than the week before, where we managed to borrow a guitar for Rimal to practice with, Moussa would practice his drawing skills, and I would prepare basically everything else in order to have a smooth chillout time for everybody, and offer people something they were craving for, I assume. I wonder to myself sometimes, what have we got in this, all of us? It’s neither Rimal, Moussa or le moi that are getting paid anything for taking that action (something society fiercely teaches you in order to survive), neither are we taking any credit, any promotion, not even appraisal. And the photos & sto...

All I said I needed was to hit the beach, at least once before summer is over. What I actually found was my ass resting on the side of the highway. Probably this was the retreat I was seeking when my tongue spoke about a beach. I'm not far from the waves, though I'm hearing and breathing the same as there, getting hit by the same amount of sun, and being tortured with the extreme heat just as if I were there. The only difference is that I still got my clothes on, which I wouldn't mind to take off by the way. "What on earth is that man doing there? Is he trying to get himself a sunburn?" This is what the bypassers are thinking, maybe. But now I'm fully aware that the beach, in my case, is not the wave and the water, it's not the entry fee nor the guards, it's not the tan nor the cream, it's the sole state of being alone... I needed it more than anything. Too much confusion in my life makes everything far from all reason, far from every bit of sa...

Mr. Photogenic Did anyone other than RJ ask me what does it feel to predict when something bad is going to happen? Pretty bad actually. I was there a few minutes before my friend's car was stolen at midnight. I had already bought 2 drinks, stood up in the center of the area just at the steps of the world clock statue, and setup my tripod and camera trying to catch the supermoon I've been hearing about a few days ago. Enchanting as it was, standing up at the central point where every car light shines, looking at all the passengers around as if I were invisible, it was just me and that cute up there. He knew very well how to play along, he hid behind the building, he stood right behind the Earth model to emphasize a metaphor probably. Photogenic he is. I don't have the tools nor the tongue to describe what a feeling it is, an escape out of the material world i touch and live in to a world I constantly keep at hold in my mind, this is where magic happens, or at least unt...

I've been preaching and teaching people how and where to find true happiness, and that heaven is not up there, it's right in between our fingers, in between our teeth, it's only but a way of life... Ever heard of the saying "the shoemaker's shoes are always worn out"? A sarcastic smile is drawn upon my face when I infuse this thought into my neurones; yes unfortunately, I'm that shoemaker that still lacks the guts/knowledge/brilliance (call it whatever suits you best) to find that inner jewel in natheer. I'm surrounded with the greatest people ever. I have a lover that's always ready to forget the past and start over whenever we need it. She'll turn into the most astonishing woman soon, and I know it. I also have the mother everyone would burst into tears when they hear her story, how she always misses me, and how she feels so upset when I'm simply, not happy... I also feel, or maybe hear, those people try to reach me and say we'd l...

Sounds cheap I know, well that's how I've been feeling lately after learning an incredibly incredible news. Alas, the beach seemed so fallen in misery this afternoon at sunset. Waves clearly confused whether to act angry of what they've come to and react as much as they feel like, or keep that scenery of a nicely wavy shore that a grandma would sit on with her two lovely grandchildren and allow me take their photos. Pretty confusing isn't it? Those same waves could've burst in anger and emotion eating almost every inch of breath and/or happiness on the way, or just imitate the same routine they've made for themselves of declaring peace and patience. Well not only waves were so messed up, mighty sun was drowsing in dizziness and weakness was hovering. Even those fluffy spring clouds were powerful enough to give our sun a heavy struggle before setting. Fisherman on water Struggling Their Grandma was watching