Battleship New Jersey

The scans from my last day on the East Coast, a day I spent on this war machine turned war memorial, just came back as the drums of global conflagration have reached a deafening crescendo, making this eerie space look even creepier. I’ve never enjoyed shows of military might. I don’t rejoice in fire power. I don’t even particularly like fireworks. But I will always cheer when the mighty fall. And I will always mourn the innocent devoured by the hungry maw of imperial expansionism. Do not ask me to take any other sides. When I walked aboard, I was … Continue reading “Battleship New Jersey”

My Heart Sees It

Someone asked me if my dad’s roll of Kodak Advantix film had been used, and I was certain it hadn’t, so imagine my heartache seeing these frames come back from the lab. This is my baby sister when she was still a baby sister. That’s the balcony at our old place; the same balcony she took her work calls on when we hung out at the same place when I was back there in January. It looks different now. So do we. I didn’t expect to see these photos so quickly. I didn’t expect to feel the way I do … Continue reading “My Heart Sees It”

The Windmills of my Mind

My sister found and sent me a picture of a single-serving carton of the chocolate milk we both grew up on and it looked exactly the same. This set me off into a slow moving spiral of sappy nostalgia, like a wheel within a wheel, you might say, a mood that I was already in this morning, having just finished a roll of film that was in my dad’s Kodak Advantix camera—a roll he’d loaded some decades ago but never used. So now I’m sharing these random moments I’ve collected around town; quiet moments in the noise. I found my … Continue reading “The Windmills of my Mind”

How Long, O Lord

These are the last of my photos from Beirut. My time there was both wounding and healing, both frustrating and hopeful. I’ve already moved on to new worries and concerns, as is often the case. Life moves on. But I feel less disconnected than I have been for years. Scenes from Bourj Hammoud on 35mm, featuring “Panos,” the spot my dad would grab a Rum Baba while waiting for mom to get ready to go out when they were dating. Strange alignments between Beirut and Deir el-Qamar that I only noticed once I got my scans back. Here are some … Continue reading “How Long, O Lord”

We Toasted to Victory

This is the moment we visited my father’s grave. It was the first thing we did, the day after I landed in Beirut. Among these images, some frames I remembered him occupying the last time we were all here together, when he could still walk with difficulty, and could point out the ancestral landmarks to me and Christine. I didn’t look back at those photos I’d taken of him back then. I just felt them in the moment. “If I were you, I’d constantly be going around like: do you know my small Lebanese hometown is basically a cult run … Continue reading “We Toasted to Victory”

Ghosts in the Frame

A few hours after I shared about wondering if it was time to nag the lab for my scans (it wasn’t), I saw them in my inbox, much earlier than the turnaround had promised. Spooky… Because there’s something inherently ghostly about seeing film come back weeks after having already processed your experience of a place digitally, especially when some frames are similar while others are not. It’s like the sedimentation of memory itself; every re-telling is another exposure on the film of your mind: hazy, layered, and re-imagined. I came to this spot because, to me, it represented my father, … Continue reading “Ghosts in the Frame”

Existential Jet Lag

I was checking my calendar to see if it was time to poke the photo lab about my Lebanon rolls when it occurred to me that I hadn’t even been back two weeks yet; why does it feel longer? Why does so much feel like existential jet lag right now? Twice in the last week, I’ve weirded myself out with my emotional responses or non-responses to things that came up. Shying away from conflict when I don’t normally; having a meltdown in a way I don’t recognize as myself; both ends of the spectrum, but both feeling foreign. There’s something … Continue reading “Existential Jet Lag”

Time is a Bastard

This is a photo that mom has framed in her living room. I didn’t ask when or where it was taken; it feels familiar. I’ve seen it many times, but now, of course, in new light. Time is a bit of a bastard. Time can be cruel at times, in fact. But there’s wisdom in time. There’s a deep knowing. I’ve had to sit face to face with time quite a bit during this trip and it wasn’t always comfortable. But it was good and necessary. We’re making peace. I don’t think we’ll ever be more than cordial, but that’s … Continue reading “Time is a Bastard”

Lebanon: Day 9

I was charmed by this whole area. Google Maps insisted on sending us in random directions, but the locals kept us on the right path, joking with us about the almost-nonexistent signage pointing the way. At one point, Google sent us down a road that turned out to be blocked; “maqtou3a, maqtou3a,” a guy on his scooter told us. Before we knew it, another guy in a pickup truck opened up the gate to his farm and told us to drive through his land to get back down to the main road. All in the typical Druze accent and matter-of-fact … Continue reading “Lebanon: Day 9”

Lebanon: Day 8

Today’s my last day here. Yesterday, Christine picked up on an “extra sweetness” in my messages, asking me if feeling nostalgic now that my time in Lebanon is coming to an end. I replied: “I’m being sappy I guess.” She put her finger on the pulse: “It’s more than sappy, I think. I can’t imagine having your heart split in two places. And I think that’s what you’re feeling right now. The beautiful agony of knowing you cannot be in two places at once.” I cried. Today is a day to remember. Thousands of families have forced a new status … Continue reading “Lebanon: Day 8”