trifles

That I enjoy drying my clothes on a clothesline as much as I do is undoubtedly a curious item. When clothes are strewn about the floor, unfolded and unstacked, I notice no similar feeling of aesthetic satisfaction. But there is something wonderful and charming about the idea of a room where clothes are strewn about the air.

Or perhaps it is they way that, hung side by side, they are a curtain which is unmistakably, no matter if vaguely, reminiscent of a childhood fortress of linen and string. Or perhaps the sight of a clothesline invokes a pioneering spirit that renounces clothes dryers and their digital timers and manages to forget the little device that washed them. Whatever the reason, I am, as I said, curiously fond of my clotheslines.

In unrelated news, I have long known that the inside of my left ear was fearfully and wonderfully made such that iPod in-ear headphones produce a frustratingly right-sided balance of sound. Recent experimentation has disclosed, however, that by placing the earbuds in the wrong ears and then rotating the right one in a peculiar fashion, a most gratifying stereo is achieved. (This photograph is, of course, taken in a mirror, if you are now wondering if I cannot tell my right ear from my left.)

Arabic lessons

makaif hawa. these two anglograms (or so i shall call them), when spoken appropriately will immediately evoke a certain idea in the mind of a person who speaks arabic. it is a distinct idea. it is a relatively simple idea. it is an idea about a perfectly concrete thing. the idea that will be summoned is none other than that of an air cooler. one week ago, my makaif hawa suddenly ceased to function, and today it was fixed.

ghasailta hidumee. this is a phrase I have not been able to say for quite some time now. my inability is not due to the fact that the first phoneme is a voiced velar fricative, either. no, rather i can’t say it because i’d be lying. this little gem means “i washed my clothes” and it hasn’t been true because we have not owned a washing machine. But today, the washing machine came. (never fear, my clothes have been mghasailtu [redundancy on the passive voice, there] until now by a capable friend who does in fact own a machine that washes clothing.)

finally,

kuulu yuum. perhaps you’ve studied another semitic tongue and can surmise the meaning of this frequently used expression? this phrase is relevent to my riding rickshaws, and buses. to my eating fuul, filafel, and shish tawook. to my wearing sandals, my speaking Arabic, and my taking showers. It means “everyday”. Its brother-phrase, kul al-yuum is much more relevant to my drinking of shay and jabana, though: “all day”.

a-Rabna ya barakum,
(our Lord bless y’all)

John Daniel

on fridays (when we rest) i think things like this

i can imagine a time when i will [perhaps]

- listen to music that is considerably less tonal and less “conventional”
- write one-act plays for fun’s sake
- know what happened to Harry Potter in book 7
- take photographs that do not want any unsharp masking or contrast enhancement
- live in a smaller apartment
- record original songs again
- speak Arabic well
- have a “profession” (maybe)
- be thinking of a specific person when i say the words “my wife”
- own at least 5 fountain pens
- posses the ability to consistently cook food into an edible form
- not sleep on floors anymore
- own glasses that fit my temples

but not now.
and all of these can be done anywhere, i think.

johnny

again and again, ever

it is only fitting to reiterate:
down and then up, but forward OR breathing.

perhaps you may be enjoined to agree with me that this inglorious cycle hints at that glorious hope: that re-creation is the rule and not the exception, and one day i will learn all those things which i am taught repeatedly.

but allow me to be a bit more concrete.
today started off badly. i was rejected as a suitable social partner this morning at the neighborhood breakfast pot. not in so many words, but by glances, by being overtly ignored. “shake the dust off your feet” turns out to be a hard thing and literal. the evening was much better. i was welcomed by some recent friends, and shared a beautiful time with them. their life is difficult (by some standards), and they do not yet know of a lighter burden. but, we will see.

living here has given deeper meaning to the idea of never thirsting again.

i pray every day that i will cease to be the single, unchanging element common to all my experiences.

captain

morning of good, morning of light

my mouth tastes real bad. i should brush that.
i’m waiting for my shower water to cool off.

i overslept this morning, and it put me in a right foul mood.
now that i’ve noted its effect on my demeanor, i’ll try to be nicer.

i miss you guys.
but i probably shouldn’t be on the computer as much as i have been lately.
which makes me a little sad.

i’ll try to take pictures and put them here (<–that’s a link, by the way) for you to see. i’ve posted a few already.

coffee.