There is nothing like coming to the realization that the class you are sitting in is the class you will have nightmares about years into the future. I really enjoy our business class, but I honestly never know when I’m getting it and when I am totally lost.
The dream had been so pleasant that Mariam woke with a smile on her face and a heart filled with love. She could hear Ahmed turning the water on and off as he prepared himself for another days work. She slowly urged herself to leave the comfort of her bed. She then made her way to the toilet, where she carefully peaked around the corner of the open door to find her husband admiring his newly grown beard. She loved the way he was almost child like sometimes; admiring his own beauty as if it were the first time he had seen himself in a mirror. She moved into the room without a word and lovingly used her fingers to trace from his ear lobe to his shoulder blade, looking up once to catch the smile she expected to see. If only she had been more observant of his mood, if only she had seen the signs; she could have returned to the arms of the man in her dreams and avoided this man all together. The very second Mariams eyes met Ahmeds in the mirror she knew; she knew exactly what was coming, but it was too late to do anything about it. In a way that was more animal than human Ahmed reached around and in one hand he gripped her fingers, crushing the hand that was just lovingly touching his skin, and with the other hand he landed a punch so hard on her face that she could feel his knuckles grating across her teeth. This was not a good morning.
The little girl sits at the counter; her eyes so wet they have soaked the locks that protectively hug her face. I am sitting next to her.”What is your name?” I ask; but fear has taken over, and she is does not reply. Moments pass like hours; her tears a steady flow. I see she’s begun to shiver, I offer an embrace but she rejects my hold. We start to watch the people pass, for a moment I am distracted. I look down at my watch, the numbers are a blur, the hands are spinning wildly out of control; I am confused. “Don’t worry, you’re just dreaming” startled by her voice I raise my eyes to meet the little girls gaze.There is something about this face, something very familiar.. “Those eyes..” I begin to say “my eyes..” but I am cut off by the words of my father as he pushes past me to embrace this girl so tightly “Where have you been??” he demands, you can tell that he had been crying too. “I was here.” She replies “I told them I would not move until you found me.”
I am awake now. I hear her voice so clearly; I hear my voice so clearly “I will not move until you find me.”
I find the work of researcher/storyteller Brené Brown the most inspiring and intriguing work in the field of social psychology. Her TED talk made me feel my thesis direction was valid and it helped me a great deal with putting together my proposal. Now that I’ve spent about a month just doing experiments and sketches I’ve decided to revisit her work. Its just as inspiring and incredible as it was the first time I heard it.
I’ve been really sick for the past four days or so.. I dunno how I’m going to get back on track with this challenge thing… God, I hate being sick.. *cough cough*
Sometimes its really nice being “known” for something.
My friends and I have stayed in touch over the years through postcards from all over the world. I have always adored how they show up out of the blue in your mailbox reminding you of someone you care about. I had been considering posting my snail mail address for a while, but I wasn’t sure about it until I found Ghadah AlKandari’s blog Raw Epistle where she invites people to revive the art of letter writing. I’ve already sent her an email with my address, can’t wait for my letter.
You can find my snail mail details on the Contact Me page if you’d like send me a letter or a postcard. If you send me one, I’ll send you one back.
I need to update my links page.. haven’t changed them up in years.. a project for this weekend?