Thursday 31 July 2008

إلا من وراء حجاب


كل يوم، تنتظر اكتمال الضوء المزخرف على الجدار المقابل لها. تسرح بلحظات من ماضيها لتلهيها عن حركة الضوء، فالماضي بإيحاء طوله يستميل الشمس لأن تسرع. اكتمل بدرها فالتفتت إلى المشربية، تراه، قسمه الخشب إلى صور كثيرة. وظلت لوهلة تلعب، تلملم الصور و تبعثرها. و يبدأ بالكلام، كله هذيان، يقولون "يحدث جدران الحارة".. لكنها لم تدر ماذا يقول، و لم تفسر يوما ما يقول. و مع احتدام كلماته و تداخلها، تغني، فيعود صوتها ناياً من بين الطبول. تسكت الطبول و كذلك كل شيء، إلاها. ينظر إلى لوحة الخشب المخرم بتكراره الممل، فتلثم وجهها بيديها خجلا.. تسكت. يغضب بسكون، و يذهب

Saturday 26 July 2008

أسماء بلا وجوه


أمي: عندما تبدآ الحرب، يصبح أهم ما في الإنسان أسماء لم تكن ظاهرة عليه

أنا: السياسة لعبة أسماء

أمي: السياسة لعبة قذرة

أنا: و كذلك الأسماء

و في صمتنا و انشغال محرك السيارة .. مر في بالي شريط من الأسماء .. بلا وجوه و لا حتى أقنعة، كيف عرفناها اذا؟ و آمنا بها. أعلم أن الأسماء للأشياء فهل غادرت الأشياء مفهومها، أم أن هناك قاعدة تحول المفاهيم أسماءا يؤمن بها الناس كالأصنام. و كيف احتالت تلك القاعدة على الناس؟ بطل أسطوري في قصة خيالية، أم شارع و تمثال؟

"ذلك الموت الذي اخترنا له اسما آخر أكثر إغراء، لنذهب إليه دون خوف، و ربما بشهوة سرية، و كأننا نذهب لشيء آخر غير حتفنا. لماذا نسينا يومها أن نطلق على الحرية أيضا أكثر من اسم؟ و كيف اختصرنا منذ البدء حريتنا في مفهومها الأول" ـ أحلام مستغانمي في ذاكرة الجسد

الحرية، كالموت، كالحب كأسماء كثيرة حولنا بلا وجوه...مفاهيم صارت أسماء لأنها تلف الإنسان فألبسناها لباسه. و المفاهيم ليست أسماء انما أفعال تخضع تحت إمرة النسبية و الحركة و السكون، فأرجوك يا رسام لا تحاول رسمها فهي لا ترسم و لا تنحت، هي كالحروف التي تكتب و لا تنطق ..تكتب لتدفع الكلمة لما بعدها من أفعال أو ربما أسماء. و ما أنت يا رسام بصانعها فأنت كما الجميع سمعتها عبر الأثير أو قرأتها مع جملة الأكاذيب اليومية

لكن كلما طال سكون المفهوم، زاد اللبس في احتمال اسميته، و لهذا يصر الرسام أن تقف الفتاة بسكون، حتى تنتهي اللوحة

Sunday 20 July 2008

the poem of the para-temporal place.


she left

shush, the lines are praying
is that what it meant?
she left
and she left
a debt
on the roses who teach walking
she left
holding her kiss in the seven skies
for now, I'm free
I shall set free
All the stories
about her eyes
to the legend of the setting suns
until the rise.

Thursday 10 July 2008

while reading Nietzsche: A Thought


Sometimes, or rather frequently, we reach a preconception that what we reached so far is the ultimate understanding among the past knowledge we had. And following time will always for the good and better. On the contrary, a deterioration in one's life will not be ever raised, a black dot, never re concealed.

What makes this impression in human nature dominant, is the very nature of rejection of the means of communication between the knowledge of memory, the shift of understandings between your madness state to your sanity state.

the most communicative binary of states is adulthood and childhood, either when an adult remembers a perception from childhood, or a child aspires the perception of an adult, but yet we call it irony. a trigger that won't produce something new to the nature of both states, but it will.

It is then another perception to life occurs, where the plasticity of time is being experienced. where no particular time tells you how correct are you. but rather the relationship of ideas and the transmutation between them that matters. it brings us to a level beyond good or bad, which delves into the degrees of collision between this and that to the emergance of a new line or fusion of lines in the diagram of a life.

Wednesday 9 July 2008

أيظن





نجاة الصغيرة
I can listen to this song for ever.

هذا النوع من الأغاني نادر، و أحلى ما فيه تجربة الزمن يمر عبر الأغنية فيغير أفكارا و يلمس الحركة و الافتعالات اللحظية.
لا أذكر غيرها إلا اغنية "يا سدرة العشاق" التي يبين فيها طول انتظاره باختلاف الوقت،يتضح من ترحاله من مقطع لآخر

مراسم الدفن


النخلة التي لم تر فلوحها الصفار، اقتلعت اليوم مع دعاء أمي و خوفها عليها، حيث أن هذا الموسم لا يناسب تغيير مكانها
فلندعو لها بالسكينة بعد هذا الارتباك
الصور مأخوذة من فوق السطح

Tuesday 8 July 2008

قانون الإنسان

كان في ذاك الزمان
لحن يرن في كل مكان
في كل ما كان
كان الصوت رنان
منان
بالهدوء الصافي الحزين
يروي قصة السكون
ذلك الصوت
يهزأ بالمكان، يهزأ بالشارع
و بيت القاضي الحالم بالسلام
قصة السكون التي رواها علينا
قبل مئة عام
من حنايا الصوت القديمة
لم يكن يقصد إهانة حين رواها
و لكن الناس شدت
بألسنتها لاسعة
كانت حنايا الصوت القديمة
تحوي فواصلا بيضاء
كانت هي الرواية
التي كلما تروى
تصرخ الناس و تغضب

Saturday 5 July 2008

A Story, of a pixel


Once upon a time there was a little pixel on a brand new TV. She was very hyper and colorful, so an old lady got that TV. She thought it would be nice for her family evening, as the old lady wasn't that interested in that TV. The pixel was only allowed to show her talent once a week. In fact, the world of pixels happens to have its ultimate excitement to watch the people in front of them. But the little pixel that is much more excited than the others (maybe because she's in the center) got extremely bored, and tried to mark some plans with her neighbors. She was very clever, whenever the TV is closed she tries her all power to keep it on, although her energy is very much lower than the major one.
The family has two brothers and one sister. The sister was always pale and sad. The family were watching their regular TV episode "days of our life" (the one that never ends) and the pixel was studying their faces very well, trying to read their glances and emotions, and happens to find a great engrossment by a little kid standing just so close that cannot be defined. So the pixel all of a sudden got REALLY SCARED of the very very close face, which made it produce a very irritating glow and made the other pixels run down except her. She couldn't maintain back her regular scheme, and the little kid was still amazed. She suddenly felt s_o free to move, she didn't know anything about 3d movement so she fell down.................. into _the _kid’s_eyes!
Of course the family didn’t give the slightest attention to what just happened. “Oh grandma!” the brother said, “can't she ever have something new”, and they changed the subject, coz the glow wasn't that significant to reach them. The kid, who is a very curious little fellow, is now playing with his eyes trying to remove this colored image he suddenly started to see! He sees life with much more saturation than ever, but doesn't know why (well, he wasn’t old enough to lay it back to caffeine). The pixel was like in HEAVAN, for the kid was able to move, which rarely happens when she was in the stupid TV. The kid went outside, it was a golden afternoon. so from the pixel power and the great amount of light outside the places around it felt so cartoonish. He got an hour of wonderment, for he started to see things with very rich colors, but after this hour his eyes got so tired. He couldn't bear this amount of light in his eyes so he fell asleep on the grass............. So the pixel started to wonder about this short and VERY exciting experience she had! She felt sorry for her friends as she cannot perform perfectly without them...... but....... she CAN perform differently!!
All those thoughts in her mind until she suddenly mocked by_a_little frog, then a bird, an elephant came and stepped on her by mistake! She freaked out “what is it about?!” she asked the frog, he replied in a royal tone "it is my pleasure to introduce you to the Queen of Nonsense!"
The pixel wasn't really sure where is the queen she looked forward but only saw herself magnified. "She is from the greatest family of lenses" the frog then explained. As you know, the pixel is a fearful little thing, when she saw her face back magnified she was terrified but this time the frog calmed her down and said: “it’s alright, her majesty is very pleased to see you here” he continued in a more dramatic way than it already was, “You are the power we were always waiting for, in the last two years of this kid’s life there was a great fight between nightmares and pleasant dreams so all our dream equipments went down, and the kid sees no more dreams so it is in your hand to bring back the dreamland for him.
The pixel felt burdened, but soon her experimental habit started to flourish, at first she was borrowing stuff from what he sees during the day and reflects it at night. Again, as the kid was very curious, he, starting to see dreams again, gave reviews to his mom every day, but only the pixel was listening. So as the day reflex was boring to him, she started to change positions, of things his father in the water pocket, his mother on the roof, but even that didn't really satisfy the little pixel. She thought and thought, and AHA! Because this dreamland has a lot of characters who lost their jobs she thought of gaining back their presence.
There was already very weird ones, and there is the ordinary life in front of her in the morning so what if a pink elephant went to work or a the clumsy dinosaur cooked the food but, no no, this wouldn’t be as exciting as when the kid moves. So .... she decided to take notes of all the places that a kid cannot reach, and until she reached this level of knowledge..... she as well gained a good traveling skills, she leaves the kid in the morning to places around him, she was there in the floor lamb, jumps to the window, just in order to see the places the little kid was ignorant about, or couldn't really have the chance or the scale to see, for you know as a little kid it is always hard to look over a crowd, or outside the window, or even in the bathroom mirror. Only since the characters had officially had jobs, for it is not a stimulation of what the kid sees... but a totally different realm, and only since, the mother started to listen to his reviews.

Tuesday 1 July 2008

an impersonal beauty


I take photos, I draw faces and maps. But are they beauty of my belonging? Do they stay around me to please me? more mirrors to see myself.

Beyond the skin of each paper or screen, there I found a thread I was pulling out from somewhere else. Not mine, for no one. The thread doesn't end, instead your interest does.

It is consistent and pure. beautiful, and you can trust your senses, all of them.

That's it when you appreciate, without relating to yourself: the pure consciousness.

paradox


Paradox: a statement or proposition that, despite sound (or apparently sound) reasoning from acceptable premises, leads to a conclusion that seems senseless, logically unacceptable, or self-contradictory.

so, can a dream be another paradox?