Advent I

Today is the first Sunday of Advent, the start of a season that’s become a bit of a barometer of my mood every year. There have been years when I was energized and engaged, turning the weeks before Christmas into an art project or two, often using the prompts made by @adventword. And there are other years when I felt the exact opposite: drained, dejected, and disengaged. This year feels different in a new way. I’m somewhere in between. I’m busier than ever before, but I don’t want the same old rituals. Or maybe I want to engage with them … Continue reading “Advent I”

Tell Me Something

I asked ChatGPT to give me a random quote based on the first thing that pops in its AI head, and it said: “Even the smallest spark can light a path through the darkest forest.” So, I asked it why it thought of that, and it replied: “It popped into my “mind” as a metaphor for hope and determination. I think I associated it with the idea of perseverance in challenging situations—a theme that resonates in many contexts, from personal struggles to movements like those you’ve shown interest in, such as historical protests or efforts for change. Perhaps it’s my … Continue reading “Tell Me Something”

I Brought My Dad With Me

We went to see @lpgiobbi at the @showbox last night and ended up standing right behind her parents for the first half of her set. The whole place seemed full of friends and family, greeting and hugging each other around the stage, purposefully designed to be “in the round” to add to that feeling of intimacy. In fact, Leah’s whole tour was designed to align with Thanksgiving, ending with a show in her hometown of Eugene. It’s the “Way Back Home” tour. There was something absolutely infectious about this sweet familial atmosphere; kisses were blown from across the decks, signs … Continue reading “I Brought My Dad With Me”

I’m Dreaming of My Father

An odd sensation brought me to consciousness around 3:30 am this morning; maybe you’ve experienced it too, when the dream state begins to gain lucidity and the director’s commentary becomes audible, and you slowly start to realize that you’re dreaming before you’re awoken. This happened to me, and it left me tossing and turning, dipping and out of sleep for the next four hours. I’d been dreaming of dad. I can’t remember the last time I did that; I’m sure it’s been decades. I realized I was dreaming as we made our way through some Jeff Koons-esque mall and into … Continue reading “I’m Dreaming of My Father”

Imprints of Instants

My morning walks to work are a lot less stimulating these days, now that I don’t crest the whole of Capitol Hill to get there; it’s a shorter jaunt, but much more sedate, given the neighborhood. I see the same things over and over, with barely a soul around, save for the constant mill of nannies and maintenance workers, tending to the properties of the rich while they go for a run or shuffle through their remaining retirement years. I see the same things over and over, so I notice the passing of time more acutely, when banal scenes suddenly … Continue reading “Imprints of Instants”

Don’t Be Like Me

After 6 and a half years, I finally took up my machete and hacked my way through the mind maze that is the American healthcare system. I found myself a primary care provider; today was my first appointment. I told her to feel free to talk to me like I was five, because I didn’t know a single thing, and I immediately proved myself by not knowing that insurance companies categorize different types of visits differently. Would this be my annual? I literally only get one a year. I don’t know, doc, you tell me. So, they gave me two … Continue reading “Don’t Be Like Me”

It Was Only Day One

This morning, I informed yet another set of community members of my father’s passing, and we exchanged pleasantries over bacon and eggs, which was nice, but generally within standard procedure. But one elderly gentleman surprised me with a question: “were you close or estranged?” I answered with something about that liminal space in between, sharing a little about the tensions of being back home over Christmas knowing that it would be the last, trying to deepen the connection but failing. He offered a coffee date to talk about it 1-1 some more, if I wanted, and shared a little about … Continue reading “It Was Only Day One”

A Very Important Man Back Home

My father entered his death throws on the same night we all realized that Trump would be the 47th president of the United States. My mother called an ambulance as per standard procedure and we braced ourselves for the end. He resisted for five more days. My mother has a photo of my dad holding the remote control in his hospital bed. He was still interested in knowing what’s going on. I wonder if he heard the news that we were all reconciling ourselves with; I didn’t ask. There was something puzzlingly calming about holding our breath while the whole … Continue reading “A Very Important Man Back Home”

I Grieve The Son

This photo is mostly generative AI. I found a tiny thumbnail of a time before core memory, a mere 960 x 899 pixels and 336 kilobytes of perhaps the most important document in our possession, and ran it through Photoshop’s “generative extend” tool, because I barely recognized it. It was already uncanny. There’s my mother and father, but who is that child? I asked mom and she, with a slight hint of urgency, solved the mystery: “Habibiii it’s youu.” It just didn’t look real. Even the kid looks mildly suspicious. So, I ran the generative fill again and again until … Continue reading “I Grieve The Son”

R.I.P. Dad

At last, you are together again. Rest well, dad. Your pain has ceased. “IMAGINE A POSTCARD FROM BEIRUT”a post card by @natasa_bergk,scanned on a Konica Minolta 2100. What do you imagine? I see hospital beds. I see the slow murder of hopes and dreams. Imagine a postcard from Beirut. A picture-perfect vista so chockablock with injustice that it’s a solid mass. Just a solid wall with no cartoon tunnel painted on. Just blank and impenetrable. We can’t see the vista anymore. What do you see? Tomorrow’s Veterans Day, an awkward day for an immigrant and an Arab too, ajallak. It … Continue reading “R.I.P. Dad”