[My Name is Red]

I just finished reading a novel titled "My Name is Red" by Orhan Pamuk.
Whenever I read a novel I think about three things; the plot, the philosophy or hidden meanings and the literary style.
In this novel the plot is OK... it has its twists and turns but at the end it hits you as another plot that you must've read somewhere else.
As for the philosophy and meanings... the novel tackles a lot of the issues related to art and Islam... especially at the time where the Islamic civilization was being challenged with other strong nearby civilizations.
I didn't like many things of how they portrayed the Muslims... but I'm not in a position to judge the credibility of such stories.
I felt that the author was more inclined toward the figurative representation in the "Frankish" Art as apposed to the abstraction in the Islamic Art.
I know that at that time the Islamic Art was containing drawings and paintings of human figures. I'm not going to enter a discussion regarding whether it is permissible or not... for me honestly I can't see a problem in figurative art. However, as it is right now, abstraction give more meaning to any piece of art since it gives the viewer the empty space to complete the meaning behind the piece.

As for the literary style of the novel... here where the novel caught my attention. And for this reason I do recommend you to read the novel. You'll get exposed to a new way of writing.
The novel is comprised of chapters. Each chapter starts with [I...]... and in each chapter, a character from the story becomes the narrator of that chapter.
The characters were as weird as Satan, a dog, a tree, a murderer, a woman, and the color red.
As described on the back of the novel... it is a kaleidoscopic experience.
It allows you to live the story not from one single point of view but from different ones. In a way you are inside each of these characters and yet you know what others think... giving you a sort of an upper eye... sort of a god view... if you know what I mean...
This point has been discussed in the novel since a debate between artists arise as how they should represent life... through the eyes of God or through the eyes of humans... and it is an interesting insight to Islamic Art....

All in all... it was a good read... and it is worth saying that the author Orhan Pamuk is a Nobel Prize winner in Literature.

I would say that this novel is a must read for Art students ...

And here is an excerpt from the chapter titled [I am red]...
[[Color is the touch of the eye, music to the deaf, a word out of the darkness. Because I’ve listened to souls whispering – like the susurrus of the wind- from book to book and object to object for tens of thousands of years, allow me to say that my touch resembles the touch of angles. Part of me, the serious half, calls out to your vision while the mirthful half soars through the air with your glances.
I’m so fortunate to be red! I’m fiery. I’m strong. I know men take notice of me and that I cannot be resisted.
I do not conceal myself: for me, delicacy manifests itself neither in weakness nor in subtlety, but through determination and will.]]

Asking it to last...

"How enduring, how we need durability... The sky before sunrise is soaked with light... Rosy colour tints buildings, bridges, and the Seine.... I was here when she with whom I walk wasn't born yet, and the cities on a distant plain stood intact, before they rose in the air with the dust of sepulchral brick, and the people who lived there didn't know. Only this moment, at dawn, is real to me.... The bygone lives are like my own past life, uncertain. I cast a spell on the city, asking it to last...." In Twilight by Czeslaw Milosz



Listen to Shadow Journal by Max Richter...

اتاك الربيع

أتاك الربيع الطلق يختال ضاحكا
من الحسن حتى كاد ان يتكلما

المتنبي

Visual Haiku

I'm obsessed with Haiku... there is something so platonically beautiful about them. The way they are so minimal yet contain so much within is something enchanting for me.
[visual haiku] is becoming a typical exercise that I give to my students where I gave each student randomly a haiku and ask them to visualize it.

And here are some samples from my Computer Design 1 students at JU....

Dana Qabani

Mira Awwad

Dina Nagur

Kamel Abu Yihia

Dina Khoury

Ala Taba'a

Rana Moalem

on the religion of Love...

My place is placeless, my trace is traceless,

no body, no soul, I am from the soul of souls.

I have chased out duality, lived the two worlds as one.

One I seek, one I know, one I see, one I call.

He is the first, he is the last, he is the outer, he is the inner.

Beyond "He" and "He is" I know no other.

I am drunk from the cup of love, the two worlds have escaped me.

I have no concern but carouse and rapture.

If one day in my life I spend a moment without you

from that hour and that time I would repent my life.

If one day I am given a moment in solitude with you

I will trample the two worlds underfoot and dance forever

Jalaluddin Rumi


* For you who seek the religion of Love... I thank you for reminding me once again!

Mohammed محمد....

محمد ســـــــــــــــيد الكونين والثقليـ	ن والفريقين من عرب ومن عجـــــمِ
هو الحبيب الذي ترجى شــــــــفاعته	لكل هولٍ من الأهوال مقتحـــــــــــــــم
دعا إلى الله فالمستسكون بــــــــــــه	مستمسكون بحبلٍ غير منفصـــــــــــم
فهو الذي تـ ــــــم معناه وصورتـــــــه	ثم اصطفاه حبيباً بارئُ النســــــــــــم
أعيا الورى فهم معناه فليس يـــــرى	في القرب والبعد فيه غير منفحـــــم
كالشمس تظهر للعينين من بعُـــــــدٍ	صغيرةً وتكل الطرف من أمـــــــــــم
وكيف يدرك في الدنيا حقيقتــــــــــه	قومٌ نيامٌ تسلوا عنه بالحلــــــــــــــمِ
فمبلغ العلم فيه أنه بشـــــــــــــــــــرٌ	وأنه خير خلق الله كلهــــــــــــــــــمِ
وكل آيٍ أتى الرسل الكرام بهـــــــــا	فإنما اتصلت من نوره بهـــــــــــــم
فإنه شمس فضلٍ هم كواكبهـــــــــــا	يظهرن أنوارها للناس في الظلـــــم
أكرم بخلق نبيّ زانه خلــــــــــــــــقٌ	بالحسن مشتمل بالبشر متســـــــــم
كالزهر في ترفٍ والبدر في شــــرفٍ	والبحر في كرمٍ والدهر في همــــــم
كانه وهو فردٌ من جلالتـــــــــــــــــه	في عسكر حين تلقاه وفي حشــــــم
كأنما اللؤلؤ المكنون فى صـــــــدفٍ	من معدني منطق منه ومبتســــــــم
لا طيب يعدل تُرباً ضم أعظمــــــــــهُ	طوبى لمنتشقٍ منه وملتثــــــــــــــمِ
مولاي صلــــي وسلــــم دائمـــاً أبــــدا	علـــى حبيبــــك خيــر الخلق كلهـم

من قصيدة البردة للإمام حسن البوصيري

Che Sara Sara

She walked in the gardens

And a rose hung on a tree,

Red as heart’s blood,

Fair to see.

“Ah, kind south-wind,

Bend it to me!”

But the wind laughed softly,

And blew to the sea.

High on the branches,

Far above her head,

Like a king’s cup

Round and red.

“I’m comely.”

The maiden said,

“I have gold like shore-sand,

I wish I were dead!”

“Blushes and rubies

Are not like a rose,

Through its deep heart

Love-life flows.

Ah, what splendors

Can give me repose!

What is all the world worth?

I cannot reach my rose.”

Rose Ferry Cooke

• Che sara sara… means in Italian “ what will be will be”…

Silence your tongue

from "A Thief in The Night" By Jalaluddin Rumi

And He is with you*
       with you
in your search
       when you seek Him
look for Him
       in your looking
closer to you
       than yourself
              to yourself:
Why run outside?
       Melt like snow.
wash yourself
       with yourself:
urged by Love
       tongues sprout
from the soul
       like stamens
              from the lily...

But learn
       this custom
from the flower:
       silence
              your tongue.

*Qur'an 4:57
Diwan-e Shams, v.V.ED. FURUZANFAR, P., 2172
(translated by Peter Lamborn Wilson)
The Rumi Collection, edited by Kabir Helminski

I am elegantly frightened*

* from a poem by Jessica Peeples

Christmas Trees

When I first heard that song... something caught my attention...
[[When I was small, and Christmas trees were tall,
We used to love while others used to play.
Don't ask me why, but time has passed us by,
Some one else moved in from far away.

Now we are tall, and Christmas trees are small,
And you don't ask the time of day.
But you and I, our love will never die,
But guess we'll cry come first of may.]]

This relationship between people and Christmas trees... and I thought what might it means?
Maybe children tends to believe in a beautiful world, where trees are decorated and where someone who lives far away cares about them and send them gifts... Children live in a fantasy world where everything is so green and everyone loves one another... and that's why they see Christmas trees so tall... but as they grow up... they realize that it's only a vision and not real... and thus the trees now look smaller...
Or Maybe it means that again children believe more in God... and have more faith... and their hearts are filled with love towards everyone including God... but as they grow their faiths get shaken and loose that belief and they only start to believe in themselves and not in miracles...

I don't know what the Bee Gees meant...
Maybe after all they meant what my friend told me when I shared these thoughts with her... she said... maybe they meant it in a straightly physical way... when we are children we are shorter and as we grow we get taller...

I don't know... I guess it depends on how you want to look at it...

The 5ifth Soliloquy *

Day I … Hard Decision Making…

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same…

Robert Frost

Day II… Despite the Certainty …

I am elegantly frightened

I wonder what the future holds

I hear those who guide me whispering silently, be bold

I see the golden path wanting my footprints

I want to be strong

I am elegantly frightened

I understand my infinitive, ebony errors

I say soon you’ll be sparkling

I try to dodge falling boulders as I climb my mountain

I hope I never slip and fall back again

I am elegantly frightened

Jessica Peeples

Day III… The Striking Truth….

Life is not poetry,

Said my old man in his somber voice.

Life needs purpose, goal, substance,

You know what I mean.

Then why can’t life be poetry…

Mine is.

Masami Kohno

Day IV… Major Setback…

I many time thought Peace had come

When Peace was far away-

As wrecked Men- deem they sight the Land-

At center of the sea

And struggle slacker- but to prove

As hopelessly as I-

How many the fictitious shores-

Before the Harbor be-

Emily Dickinson

Day V… Despair Drowning…

[Pain] has no Future-but itself-

Its Infinite contain

It’s Past- enlightened to perceive

New periods- of Pain

Emily Dickinson

Day VI… Finding Land…

The wheel is set in motion; hope it is your day

You’re stuck in the middle of somewhere

A place you cannot stay

Anticipation haunts you and failure feeds your pain

Your dark clouds have no silver lining

But success you must gain

The hands of time keep turning and your lot stays the same

Don’t stop trying to change the picture

Beneath that iron frame

You did not light your fire so they could kill the flame

Don’t lose the passion and desire

Come on, try again

We all don’t walk our desired path

We all don’t live our fantasy

We all don’t reap our labor’s fruits

We all don’t reach to the tunnel’s end

Yet we dream…

Yet we dream…

Joel Aaron

Day VII…The Big Bang…

Tell me I am weak,

It only makes me stronger.

Tell me I won’t succeed,

I will only break your limits.

Tell me my dreams are foolish,

I will make them come true.

Tell them to put me in chains, and I will break them.

Tell me I will never amount to anything,

And I will be the next role model.

For every person who has ever made a mark in society,

There are at least 10 people who tried to suppress them.

So get in line and take a number.

Matthew Duncan Malone

Day VIII…Invincible Power…

If you can keep your head when all about you

Are losing their and blaming it on you;

If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,

But make allowances for their doubting too;

If you can wait and not be tiered of waiting,

Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,

Or, being hated, don't give way to hating,

And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream- and not make dreams your master;

If you can think- and not make thoughts your aim;

If you can meet with triumph and disaster

And treat those two imposters just the same:

If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken

Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,

Or watch the things you gave your life to broken

And stoop and build 'em up with worn out tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings

And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,

And lose, and start again at your beginnings

And never breathe a word about your loss;

If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew

To serve your turn long after they are gone,

And so hold on when there is nothing in you

Except the Will which says to them:” Hold on!”

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,

Or walk with kings- nor lose the common touch;

If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;

If all men count with you, but none too much;

If you can fill the unforgiving minute

With sixty seconds' worth a distance run-

Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,

And- which is more- you'll be a Man my son!

Rudyard Kipling

Day IX… The Peaceful End…

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Some where ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in the woods and I-

I took the one less traveled by

And that has made all the difference.

Robert Frost

* These poems were assembled in the summer of 2004 to describe the 5 years I spent studying Architecture at the University of Jordan

I can't be two...

[[ 13th/February
Two things at once, thou know’st I cannot think,
When busy with the work thou givest me,
I cannot consciously think then of thee.
Then why, when next thou lookest o’er the brink
Of my horizon, should my spirit shrink,
Reproached and fearful, nor to greet thee run?
Can I be two when I am only one?
]]

George MacDonald, "The Dairy of an Old Soul"

قميص يوسف ....

في ظلمات جب ذات مساء..

تحت نور القمر..

أخوه للجب نظر..

به ..غدر..

يوسف.. ينتظر..

أخذوا يوسف..

تركوا يوسف..

فكان بشرى لمن عبر...

يبكي أبوه..

وبلا يأس ينتظر..

عل صباحا.. يأتي..

يحمل عنه أي خبر..

بجميل صبر .. ينتظر..

أمات يوسف.. أحتضر؟؟

ألذئب أكله أم ذئبٌ بشر؟؟

لا .. ما مات يوسف..

والصباح يأتي بالبشر..

طال انتظار..

ما عاد يوسف ..ما حضر ..

وذات يوم ..

وفي المساء..

كان قميص .. يحمل الخبر..

يحمل بشرى ... وليعقوب البصر..

وكان لقاء..

كما تلقى النجوم القمر..

بهالة حب ...

شوق..

وقلب ذات يوم اسر ..

.............................

بشوق يعقوب..

بحب يملأ القلب دموعا وعبر..

وبعين ابيضت من طول

صبر..ترجو خبر..

انتظرك نورا ...

يحمله قميصك ...

كقميص يوسف..

يعيد لي البصر ...

تأليف صديقتي العزيزة حنان....

some places... are unforgettable ...

To Norline

This beach will remain empty
For more slate-colored dawns
Of lines the surf continually
Erases with its sponge,
And someone else will come
From the still-sleeping house,
To memorize this passage
Of a salt-sipping torn,
Like when some line on a page
Is loved, and it’s hard to turn.
Derek Walcott

a thief in the night

Suddenly
       (yet somehow unexpected)
he arrived
       the guest...
the heart trembling
       "Who's there?"
       and soul responding
              "The Moon..."

       came into the house
       and we lunatics
ran into the street
       stared up
              looking
                     for the moon.


Then-inside the house-
       he cried out
"Here I am!"
       and we
beyond earshot
       running around
              calling him...
crying for him
       for the drunken nightingale
locked lamenting
       in our garden
while we
       mourning ring doves
              murmured "Where
                     where?"

As if at midnight
       the sleepers bolt upright
in their beds
       hearing a thief
break into the house
       in the darkness
they stumble about
       crying "Help!
              A thief! A thief!"
but the burglar himself
       mingles in the confusion
echoing their cries:
       "...a thief!"
              till one cry
melts with the others.

And He is with you*
       with you
in your search
       when you seek Him
look for Him
       in your looking
closer to you
       than yourself
              to yourself:
Why run outside?
       Melt like snow.
wash yourself
       with yourself:
urged by Love
       tongues sprout
from the soul
       like stamens
              from the lily...

But learn
       this custom
from the flower:
       silence
              your tongue.

*Qur'an 4:57
Diwan-e Shams, v.V.ED. FURUZANFAR, P., 2172
(translated by Peter Lamborn Wilson)
The Rumi Collection, edited by Kabir Helminski

rings around the moon

[[And I pray for the sign
And I won't be too late

If you just take time
And be sure of who you are
We can take it up to heaven
We can walk amongst the stars
And I know if you stay
I will never turn away
We fly rings around the moon]]

A poem | The Waking

I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
I feel my fate in what I cannot fear.
I learn by going where I have to go.

We think by feeling. What is there to know?
I hear my being dance from ear to ear.
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.

Of those so close behind me, which are you?
God bless the Ground! I shall walk softly there,
And learn by going where I have to go.

Light takes the Tree; but who can tell us how?
The lonely worm climbs up a winding stair;
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.

Great Nature has another thing to do
To you and me; so take the lively air;
And, lovely, learn by going where to go.

This shaking keeps me steady. I should know.
What falls away is always. And is near.
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
I learn by going where I have to go.

Theodore Roethke

thanks Mona for sharing this with me...

The Spring Wind...

Last Saturday I went to a haiku reading and writing workshop!
What I love most about haiku is the minimalist touch… you have to use less and less words to describe a concrete image… not like other kind of poetry… haiku don’t rely much on metaphors and poetical words… rather it describes a scene or draw an image… with less words as possible… yet somehow it puts you in a totally different poetical mood…
I guess the concept of less is more [Sandy my girl] is quite charming in itself… I totally loved it…
And guess what… I had to write my first haiku! =) well we were asked to write a haiku about the spring! And we had a nice walk around the botanic gardens… a rich place for inspiration… of course I couldn’t resist the temptation of using my cam to [haiku] a new type of poetry!
So here it goes… my first haiku…
[[
The silent grey sky
Showers soft rain
Glossy buds
]]

And to get you more in the mood here is other haikus

[[working at it
and working at it
and still the tall grass grows]] Santoka translated by Cid Corman

[[Outside the station,
tree dense with green oranges.
I put down my case.]] Tobias Hill

This workshop is part of the Middle Eastern Spirituality and Peace Festival… and took place in the Royal Botanic Gardens.

why the sigh....

[[I shall be telling this with a sigh,
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood and I
I took the one less traveled by
And that has made all the difference]] Robert Frost

This is my favorite English poem ever… I keep on reciting it over and over… and every time I feel something different… but I always wondered why did he sigh?...
I know her… I know that she is a traveler as well… so I met her… and asked her this… and that was her reply which I’ll try to quote as faithfully as possible…
[[their roads met… so they began traveling together… she enjoyed his company… he was just a new traveler… she felt the changes in him and respect them… he on the other hand was enjoying her company as well… and he was feeling stronger by each day… they went through some rough turns, blocked roads… like any traveler… obstacles becomes a part of the journey… once she felt he was sad… so she asked him… “Do you prefer a simpler path? Do you wish that none of these obstacles exist? Do you wish you had it all as easily as possible?”…. he looked at her concealed behind his smile and said… “NO!... am not stupid to think this way! I feel strong… and I will never be weakened”… silently she prayed “I hope this is right!”… and so they continue their way… until… the road diverged… and as always… one is less traveled by… she didn’t think nor ask him… she just went on to that road… because this is her way of traveling… she wasn’t thinking about what he might’ve chosen! And then when she looked back to see him… he wasn’t there!.... she saw his shadow walking in the road widen by more people… silently she stood observing him there… and then she look at the road she was walking alone now! So she sighed…]]
My friend had a pause… I was waiting for the rest of her story or answer… but she kept on being silent… I asked her… then why did she sigh? She looked at me and said… “That’s why!” and she went away… leaving me puzzled…
Why did she sigh? Did he sigh?
I wondered… I couldn’t stop thinking why?! But then maybe… after all… the emotions of that moment whether they are bitter or sweet… happy or sad… relief or anger… they are personal… they should be concealed behind that sigh… no one can understand them… and maybe no one should seek to understand them… because once your time comes… you might sigh! And at the end… each will walk his/her path…