"I miss Odysseus; my heart is melting. / The suitors want to push me into marriage, but I spin schemes... By day I wove the web, / and in the night by torchlight, I unwove it."
I made this feverish, unwinding loom for @youremysunshine8 's bday, since she is reading Emily Wilson's translation of The Odyssey.
It's made from an old painting frame with the canvas removed. I painted the wood a darker color and hammered in a couple hundred tacks, which I strung with white yarn.
The weaving itself took a long time, since I've never done that before and wasn't using a real loom, though I did make a make-shift heddle from a ruler. The meander is woven in soumak, which means you wrap the weft around each warp instead of just going over-under; this takes a long time but gives it a really cool dimension.
I carved Penelope's hands from chipboard, and painted them the same color as the loom. I wanted to convey the "muscular, firm hand" from Wilson's translation.
“In my opinion, the broken line of transmission from the time of Troy and Mycenae to the Archaic and Classical ages; thanks to the collapse of the Bronze Age with its accompanying loss of literacy, is far from a disaster. It is the intriguing distance, the blend of history, mystery and myth, the interplay of the particular and 'the universal that makes the Homeric experience so rich and compelling. The action is played out on the golden horizon between reality and legend, the beguiling penumbra where fable and fact coexist. It is this that endows Homeric epic with the minute, realistic and vivid detailing that so animates and convinces, yet also gives us the glorious symbolism and dreamlike depth that only myth allows, with its divine interventions, supernatural episodes and superhuman heroes.”
My name is Abdullah Al-Qassab, I’m 27 years old, and I am writing this message with trembling hands and an empty stomach — from Gaza.
Before the war, I had a small travel agency something I built with love, effort, and hope.I dreamed of a simple life… a dignified life.
But the war didn’t just destroy my home and business —it shattered my ability to dream.
Today, I’m not asking for dreams.I’m asking for bread. For water. For life I now live with my family in the open — no walls, no roof, just the cold ground beneath us.
We are in a catastrophic famine.
We go days without food.
We faint in the street from hunger.
Our bodies are giving up.
And still… the world remains silent.
My mother has a heart condition — she needs medicine and special food.
Now she lies in pain, her chest aching, and I have nothing to give her. My grandmother has high blood pressure — worsened by hunger and cold nights.
Her body is shrinking before my eyes.
And me😞?
I’ve collapsed more than once from weakness. From not eating.But I stand up again… because they need me.
What do you call this life?
Sleeping on the dirt… watching your family starve… praying your heart doesn’t stop before help arrives? This is not a life. This is a slow death. To anyone reading this Please… don’t turn away from me.
Help me buy food before we collapse again. Help me get medicine before my mother’s heart gives out.
Help me bring even one moment of comfort to my grandmother before it’s too late.
I’m not asking for luxury.
I’m not asking for comfort.
> I’m begging for survival.
Even the smallest act of kindness could mean the world to us. Please… save us from this hunger.
— Abdullah Al-Qassab
Gaza, Palestine
🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸GoFundMe link🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸
"A Family Trying to Survive"
My name is Abdullah Al-Qassab, a 27-year… Maryam Awad needs your support for Help Abdullah's family in
📩 Or DM me if you prefer to help directly.. 🙏🏻
Every dollar helps. Every reblog helps. Every bit of empathy matters... 🥹💔
Please don’t scroll past – Gaza is starving in silence.... 🙏🏻😞
✅️Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #687 )✅️
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