Belal Hosni: Everyday Horses/Gregory Djanikian

Alexandria, 1953

 

You could think of sunlight

Glancing off the minarets,

You could think of guavas and figs

And the whole marketplace filled

With the sumptuous din of haggling,

But you could not think of Alexandria

Without the sea, or the sea,

Turquoise and shimmering, without

The white city rising before it.

 

Continue Reading

Youssef Rakha: Three Times Cairo

One: Instagram Dreams

Sleep-deprivation is like being high. I know because I was high for a long time, then I started sleeping irregularly. It’s supposed to have something to do with lack of sugar in the brain, which is also the theory of what LSD does to consciousness. Things grow fluid and dreamlike, but at the same time there is a paranoid awareness of motion and a heaviness in the heart. Colour and sound become a lot sharper, and time feels totally irrelevant. Normal speed is fast but fast can pass for normal. A moment lasts for days, days can fit in a moment. Talking and laughing are far more involving, especially laughing. The grotesque animal implicit in each person comes out, sometimes messing up the conversation. And then it’s as if you have no body. As in the best music, an uncanny lightness balances the overriding melancholy. There is joy in flying when you don’t need to move. All through this, what’s more, every passing emotion turns into an epic experience.

Continue Reading

Ahmed Almunirawi’s Tunisian Portraits

It can happen that I am observed without knowing it, and again I cannot speak of this experience, since I have determined to be guided by the consciousness of my feelings. But very often (too often, to my taste) I have been photographed and knew it. Now, once I feel myself observed by the lens, everything changes: I constitute myself in the process of ‘posing,’ I instantaneously make another body for myself, I transform myself in advance into an image. This transformation is an active one: I feel that the Photograph creates my body or mortifies it, according to its caprice…

Continue Reading

Joseph Schreiber: Calcutta in Grey

A city of stark contrasts, Calcutta breathes deeply in black and white.

The altered reality of the black and white image engages the outlines of the urban landscape.

.

Continue Reading

فرات الحطاب: حيطان تونس

عند وصولي إلى تونس، اكتشفت أنني اقتلعت من المشرق ورميت نفسي في المغرب الذي لا أعرف عنه شيئًا. هنا اكتشفت مصطلح “مشرق” أساسًا. لأصحاب الدكاكين ردات الفعل نفسها: من وين من لبنان؟ آه سوريا؟ مشرقية؟ (لا فرق كبيرًا هنا بين سوريا، لبنان، الأردن؛ كلنا عند المغاربة مشارقة).

استمر في القراءة

Mahmoud Al Manyarawi: A Psychological Epidemic

By Mahmoud Al Manyarawi

I think I must be crazy, or have a short circuit in my brain; it feels like I can’t think in a right way, a way that guarantees any other destination in this life.

Taking decisions – any decisions – is a serious crisis in my life, so it feels like I’m paddling. I’ve tried, at least I think I’ve tried to edit my position, to lie down on my comfortable side, but where can one find a side in dimensionlessness? Failure echoes in the present and makes me tap deeper into my fragility. A psychological epidemic destroys my imaginary pictures of my self.

What can one do more than go on trying to live, though, since living is an involuntary daily activity that routinely robs us of our will to choose.

So I wake up every day carrying this box of contradictions about and trying as much as I possibly can to organize the mess. But I fail. A daily failure that reminds me of the greater failure of our existence. So I sleep on it, only to ironically try again when I wake up as if I didn’t yesterday.

I know I don’t have anything new to say, but repeating what can be repeated is the only way to emphasize nothing.

SaveSave

No more posts.