Sunday, 29 January 2012

هدية من الشمس

رحلت السماء في باص الساعة الخامسة وقتلت الشوارع القطط. استقيظت سريعاً, أكل الباص حلمي, لن أغادر المنزل. كبرت على النافذة, بعكس أصدقائي, والآن هي أصبحت العدو, سوف أبتعد عنها. تركت النافذة وحيدة مثلي وجلست في الغرفة كأنها فارغة.اختفت كل الأصوات وأصبحت الجدران رمادية, ابتسمت وتخايلت وجه رجل أحبه ولم أراه قط ينام في جدراني, ينام أمامي, همود نومه يملأ الغرفة وأنا ما زلت جالسة. أنظر إلى أظافري وأعدهم أنني لن آكلهم بعد الآن. ابتسمت, أظافري الناعمة ستحمي الغرفة وأنا سأظل جالسة وهي ستحمي الغرفة وستسترجع الشمس.أظافري الناعمة ستسترجع الشمس وتنقظ الألوان الزرقاء, أظافري الناعمة ستتعاون مع الغيوم الغيوم ممممممممممممممم سمعت صوتاً ولم أعد جالسة...

Sunday, 8 January 2012

A Compilation of If I Were a Compilation -Excerpt I-

I wish I were a song. I would have an end time clearly written on my package. People wouldn't mind to share me and send me as gifts. I would live in strangers' cars and showers. People wouldn't mind to make love on me. My remix with time wouldn't be shunned but will be clearly stated. I would have complete access on many people's private libraries. I would have a more interesting name. People will try to read what's written in me. I would be the child of violins or laptops. I would be a wave. And people would dance on my body.

I want a baby. I wish I had a baby. If I had a baby, I would plan to move as exactly as possible after conceiving to a new house next to the sea. I would let him choose my clothes from since he's very very wee, and take him to shop for his and try to figure out his favorite color and indulge him with it from since his first blurry months. And hereby, I would sometimes wear eyeglasses that blur and distort my sight, so I can see as he sees. I would look at the mirror with the glasses on. I would repeat after him his gibberish, so I can learn his perception of language, as he is also learning mine. He would swim in my hands. We would toddle together, and when he starts walking, I will take off my clothes too, and he will laugh...both us will run naked in the house. I'll introduce him to new songs. I will celebrate his birthday in planting new flowers. I'll try to teach him not be so attached to me. I would never cry.

I wish I were a painter. I would sneak peek stare through all of my neighbours' door locks and paint what I see from their rooms and when done , I would hang (the next morning) all the paintings on the building's entrance. I would paint all my favorite(existent and non-existent) clothes' patterns and model for Vogue wearing the canvas and some famous stylist's new shoes collection.At 40, I would invite children from the streets to my atelier so they continue my infuriatingly pending paintings that would hence become finished(finally not pending!!) and sold in my upcoming exhibition with the complete profit (secretly) granted (by me) to the unknown children. I would paint on my lover's body in bed, enjoy it and enjoy him not going the next day to work, with my brushstrokes he would want to stay. I would go out at 4 am in Beirut searching for a drink because I can't wait for the paint to dry. I would make portraits of presidents wearing my favorite pyjamas. I would paint songs and collect family photos.

Coming in the next compilation :

Saturday, 7 January 2012

Monday, 2 January 2012

امرأة قد تكون تحت الإنشاء

امرأة (نصف جالسة على كرسي وليمة, أسود, عملاق بعض الشيء, مصنوع من الأبنوس) بشرتها بيضاء كالرخام وكذلك شعرها المجدّل. إنها ترتدي ثوباً من لون بشرتها. في الثوب ثقوب وثغرات عديدة. إنها تذكرنا بتمثال الشهداء في ساحة الشهداء
بيروت. إنها في العشرينات من عمرها. عاشت لمدّة 
طويلة بين الصخر
<مقطع من لوحة نصيّة في قيد الإنشاء>