الشرق الاوسط و اللغة العربية: كيف أحبه

I wouldn't have guessed I'd be back in the Middle East again enjoying all the excitement and flavors of the Arab world. The food, the taxi drivers, the suqs (markets), the history, the pride, the differences from American culture. I love it. Especially the little moments, like when I was finishing eating dinner the other night in a cafe above a great little bookstore where the power went out...unfortunately the power went out for that entire area of the city, fortunately I had finished, paid, and was on my way out helped by the handy little led flashlight built into my Jordanian cell phone (I still wonder why that idea hasn't caught on in the states, considering half the time people end up trying to use their phone as a flashlight just by having a lit screen, why not throw in a tiny led into the top that can be turned on with the push of a button, so much better than the screen).
Pictures pending my return.
مع السلامة

The G40 Summit: An Epic Exhibit

There is something about art that bring power an emotion to the surface.  It amazes me how art has the ability to create such vivid and lasting emotions in an instant.  Anger, fear, frustration, awe, wonder, a sense of hopelessness, a sense of minuteness, excitement, lust.  A good artist in a single shot or exhibit can elicit some or all of these where just prior none of those emotions existed.  That is power.


The G40 Summit is an art exhibition in Crystal City in Arlington, VA that runs throughout the month of March.  If you are anywhere in the area you need to see it.  I loved it.  It is not the type of art you typically find in most art galleries or art museums, which is why I liked it so much.  It felt real.  The emotions, the depiction of life, the messages all resonated to a greater degree than any other gallery or museum I've visited, including such museums as the British National Gallery, the Louvre, the Musée d'Orsay, any of the Smithsonian museums in DC and another half-dozen throughout Europe.  Overall, I would have to define the style as modern.  More specifically I think "Street Art" is the best way to define it, but even that feels limiting.  The exhibit is a combination of styles, from artists around the world with the focus being on Washington, D.C. metro area; New York City metro area; and California artists. 


Its sad these pictures can't compare to the real thing, but here are some of my favorites:
(unfortunately, these are poor quality shots from my phone)





And here are just a few of the artists websites:


www.artderailed.com
www.sharingthestoke.com
www.menobodyknows.com
www.novietrump.com

The Passage

For most people there’s a narrow corridor between wakefulness and sleep that they drift through quickly. For me it’s a cavern. A place where I am neither awake nor asleep, a quasi-dream state where only nightmares are a reality and peace of mind is fleeting. This place where corridors expand through time and space, and which changes with each experience such that finding the right path to blissful rest is a journey. Some nights as I lay there searching for the path it appears quickly, unexpectedly and I think maybe I’ve found the answer; maybe I’ll be able to follow this path again and be satisfied. It doesn’t take long for reality to set in when my next journey takes days, although in reality it is merely a matter of hours. However, in the dark of night hours stretch on endlessly, for only blackness exists in its natural form. We ignore that blackness through human ingenuity: fire, electricity, and light, sight at a moment’s notice regardless of the hour or depth of night. Our senses are no longer limited by the natural order of things. During this time I find there are moments of clarity, which I imagine are similar to the addict who meets the climax, the epitome of contentment, right after satisfying his cravings; where everything is right with the world. More often things are clouded, obscure. Images flash before my eyes, thoughts and ideas come into my mind only to be torn away the moment their brilliance is realized. Patience means nothing; exhaustion means nothing, because it leads nowhere. Not until days pass and the fatigue compounds until the physical limits of my body are reached and the natural order of things must be satisfied through rest, albeit not always peaceful. In the end it all leads to one thing, an expanding cavern containing an endless nightmare which I am forced experience night after night…insomnia.