Sept.08 / Morin Heights, Qc. / Canon Eos Digital Rebel XTi
"In a manner of speaking In a manner of speaking I just want to say That I could never forget the way You told me everything By saying nothing In a manner of speaking I don’t understand How love in silence becomes reprimand But the may I feel about you is beyond words Oh give me the words Give me the words That tell me nothing Oh give me the words Give me the words That tell me everything
In a manner of speaking Semantiks won't do In this life that we live we only make do And the way that we feel might have to be sacrificed
So in a manner of speaking I just want to say That like you I should find a way To tell you everything By saying nothing Oh give me the words Give me the words That tell me nothing Oh give me the words Give me the words Give me the words Give me the words Give me the words"
I would like it if for a day, I could see life through her eyes. Inhabit her soul, and through her eyes grasp how she perceives the world we live in, as we share days in days out; colors, landscapes, depth, dimension, scale, perspective... and me.
My wish unfortunately will remain a wish. And I can only capture and use the reflections "in her eyes" and hope that one day my blue sky will shy in their pure yet sophisticated blackness. ----
Mushaboom - Feist
«Le cadrage, la beauté des couleurs et l'originalité de l'image quant à la représentation d'un des jardins de Flora ont fait en sorte que «in her eyes» est la photo gagnante de cette édition 2007 du concours».
Translation: The framing, the beauty of the colors, as well as the originality of the image and the portrayal of one of Flora's gardens have all contributed to make "in her eyes" the winning photo of this 2007 edition of the competition.
This above picture was my first ever submission to a photography competition... And guess what? I won! I had submitted more than one photo, and to be perfectly honest, the photograph that ended up winning the competition wasn't my favorite of the bunch. But what the hell, why am I even arguing and nagging when I actually won the thing!
Every year, Montreal organizes a showcase of experimental, "avant-garde" gardens, and ephemeral installations as part of the "International Flora Exhibition". In 2006 I had designed an installation that remained showcased for 2 years. This year's edition of Flora held a competition for the best picture in the show. "In her eyes" is not a photograph of our garden unfortunately, but it features "La Cathédrale de Bamboo" by Fabien Dreuil, Florian Fiebig, and Boris Pintado. ---- Lyric: Mushaboom, by Feist
Helping the kids out of their coats, But wait the babies haven't been born oh Unpacking the bags and setting up, And planting lilacs and buttercups oh But in the meantime we've got it hard, Second floor living without a yard It may be years until the day, My dreams will match up with my pay
Old dirt road, (mushaboom, mushaboom) knee deep snow (mushaboom, mushaboom) Watching the fire as we grow (mushaboom, mushaboom) o-o-o-o-old
I got a man to stick it out, And make a home from a rented house oh And we'll collect the moments one by one, I guess that's how the future's done oh How many acres, how much light, Tucked in the woods and out of sight Talk to the neighbours and tip my cap, On a little road barely on the map
Old dirt road, (mushaboom, mushaboom) knee deep snow, (mushaboom, mushaboom) Watching the fire as we grow, (mushaboom, mushaboom) o-o-o-o-old (mushaboom, mushaboom) Old dirt road rambling rose, (mushaboom, mushaboom) Watching the fire as we grow, (mushaboom, mushaboom) Well I'm Sold...
And just like that, and when you thought snow has melted, winter in Montreal has just begun. I took this picture while waiting for the bus. It was pretty cold, but fantastically beautiful. The landscape was serene and calm. It was the first time I actually see snow crystals; I always thought they existed only in drawings and in cartoons. They are exactly the way they draw them on greeting cards. They were stuck frozen on the glass of the bus shelter. I took out my camera and started shooting away. I didn’t have gloves, so my fingers were freezing; a painful pleasure I was ready to endure. I missed the bus I was planning to take, and rode on the next one to work. Walking in the morning when Metropolis is still silent and white is beyond compare. Sometimes, people smile in the morning have you noticed? It is so peaceful. I miss peace. Do I know peace? I never knew peace; I never met it. I wouldn't recognize it even if it falls in my lap.
I love snow, but I hate the resulting slush. You can't have one without the other. What do you do?
Him: How was Lebanon? Me: slow. Everything runs on slow-motion. Him: Yeah I heard. Me: it’s ridiculous. You couldn’t get anything done if you didn’t calculate at least two to three hours of your day. Him: A lot of traffic? Me: A lot of everything… and mostly, of nothing.
---- I used to think that the malaise that overtook me, every time I came back home was related to change. I, by default, did not like anything that has to do with change, and I hated the natural fact that nothing remained as I once knew it; hence my everlasting nostalgia.
I think I was missing the point. It actually appears that no matter how long you stayed away, everything in Beirut remains the way you left it.
This city freezes time.
It is impossible how time stands still in this country. My world, as I know it, comes to a total and sudden halt every time I fly back home. I flatline... Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep. And when I wake up, it is already time to go.
I have been in Beirut since the 21st of December. I haven’t been blogging and I haven’t been reading other blogs. I didn’t check my emails, didn’t log on facebook and didn’t send Christmas greetings.
I left Montreal in a hurry since my preparations were left to last minute (as always), and I didn’t even have the chance to leave a word out on urban_memories that I was leaving.
Beirut looks smaller and much denser than I remembered it to be. Despite the good weather we had most of the days; Beirut seemed to be sad and gloomy.
A lot of Green has been sprouting nonchalantly here and there all over the city, which is something I really appreciated.
There is a woman that rides the same bus I take to and from work everyday, that drives me nuts. If you knew me in person, you would know that I usually have high tolerance for breathing life around me, especially human beings, but she just hits me on THAT nerve.
As much as possible, and whenever I can, I always try to circulate towards the back of the bus, where it is always more spacious, and where there is a better chance at finding seats. Many of you do the same I presume. And when the bus is fully crowded, you just find a decent spot in which you stand and hang on to something, and wait for the bus to halt so you can try to proceed towards the back.
She, on the other hand, needs to find a seat no matter what. No matter how crowded the bus is, she straddles, shoves, and crams, trying to find her way towards the back, sniffing for an empty seat, while uttering her uber annoying trademark: excusez, excusez (excuse me, in French), which when she pronounces it, comes out as sssscussez, sssscussez. AAAAH, she just kills me!
I even had an altercation with her once: the bus was so full on that day, that it seemed that it was going to spit passengers out on every corner. I hardly had one inch to move, and unmistakably, in she comes – ssscussez, ssscussez – forcing her way in, and pushing people out of her way, and you could tell that passengers were annoyed. When she got to my spot, I refused to move. In fact I held on as tight as I could in order not to let her through… She looks at me… ssscussez…
- There is nowhere I can go ma’am, and there is nowhere you could go. Look at the bus! Stay here and we’ll move on the next station. - Ssscusssez… - Ma’am, there is nowhere to go. I am not moving, if you want to move to the back, you have to climb on me.
And I promise you, climb on me she did!!! Ssscusssez.
Today, it happened that she was at the same stop I was waiting at. She was late, and I saw her running from afar as the bus came to a stop in front of me. I swear to you she tried to come in before me despite the fact that I was waiting there long before her. I walked in to the middle of the cart, and she made her way in ssscussez towards me. There was nowhere to sit. She pushed me out of her way, and went towards the back only to find that there was no seating. You could read disappointment in her eyes as she exhaled. Her eyes met mine… she remembered me… I gave her the look. Then suddenly, and as if to prove that there is a God, the seat right in front of me emptied, I looked at her, she was ready to move in. I calmly looked at her, rotated 180 degrees, looked at her again, smiled, and sat. I opened my book, crossed my legs, gave her another look, and let out the biggest exhale ever registered on this planet.
She looked at me furiously, and ssscusssez ssscusssez, she left the bus.
It was a very gloomy, rainy day in Montréal, but the Mont-Royal was radiating green miles away; as if imploring the sun to shine, and the summer to finally bestow upon us its much craved for warmth!
I leave you with local Tunes. This is a Band from Québec that I am liking a lot these days... here's "Lucille" by les 3 Accords.
“The world is changed; I can feel it in the water. I feel it in the earth, I smell it in the air, much that once was is lost, for none now live to remember it”
Sept.08 / Morin Heights, Qc. / Canon Eos Digital Rebel XTi
