RetRotica @retrotica - Tumblr Blog

Pier Paolo Pasolini, photographed in his home in Rome by Jonas Mekas.

ترهات السادسة مساءا

ليس السر فيما حدث، ولا الأمل فيما سيحدث، الطريق متعرج و بشدة، الأحلام تتحقق أحيانا و لكن لا تتطابق، إنظر خلفك جيدا لكن لا تسمح لجسدك أن يلتف عليك فيسيطر على عقلك، دع الخلق للزمن و الزمن للخالق.

retrotica

“ياللي حلو الكلام في عنيك، ساكت مقولتش ليه؟”

— حاجات و محتاجات

retrotica

“ياللي حلو الكلام في عنيك، ساكت مقولتش ليه؟”

— حاجات و محتاجات

"A Sunday smile, you wore it for a while A cemetery mile, we paused and sang.. All I want is the best for our lives, my dear" Beirut Anticipated rain didn't fall or maybe just wasn't as heavy. Does anticipation-led awareness build knowledge? How reliable is such knowledge? "Persecution can never efface principles" Gerald's defence. Representation is key. (at London, United Kingdom) https://www.instagram.com/p/CGzTnjHn9fF/?igshid=xucsu5u3bco0

A month in town. I thought I'd have much more to say by now but then again I've learned to question one's own thoughts for they might make sense but aren't always constructive. Walking makes my breaths more regular. Breathing regularly helps preserve a fine state of mind. I've been using such simple logic beyond the above and it has been serving me well. "There are things that you can't do - like writing letters to a part of yourself. To your feet or hair. Or heart." Arundhati Roy - The God of Small Things I have never been big on routines till that pandemic hit and I don't think I could've survived it without one. A routine shall extend to include cycles of change. Some things are to be addressed at first hand. Good morning, Have a good day and please take care. M (at London, Unιted Kingdom) https://www.instagram.com/p/CGlZgXdH7SF/?igshid=w7409s8s65z0

It has been pretty much like this lately. https://www.instagram.com/p/CGQnoS7n3u2/?igshid=16pclk2cpgaec

yooo-gehn

On Tuesday I lost my favorite face mask, the only one that didn't make my glasses steamy.

Dropped it somewhere between super cute birthday spots with a budding friendship that's making this landing to a new city much softer.

On the same day I had a song and a wish sent me all the way from inside one of Egypt's prisons, reminding me that all messages find their ways no matter what.

I remember my father a lot those days. Hey, pa!

Today I was reflecting on the last days/weeks before travelling and I can't but remember the kemo cono ice cream with the chocolate chip towards the end.

I read parts of Beer in the Snooker Club and tear up but not cry. I want to but it won't happen. It is like weeping is building up somewhere but it's not here yet. I shall be waiting, welcoming and willing..

Sometimes things are too big that you can't but allow yourself all the sadness over to realise. It's not as sad as it sounds.

"Too beige" he said, "but you still have time" he added.

I am yet to figure which colors I am going to want around.

mudwerks

“The mind is like a richly woven tapestry in which the colors are distilled from the experiences of the senses, and the design drawn from the convolutions of the intellect.”

— Carson McCullers | Reflections in a Golden Eye (1941)

forasecondtherewedwon

Novels for Black History Month

One of the ways I recognize Black History Month is through my reading habits. Obviously, I don’t confine reading novels by Black authors to one month out of the year, but each February, I make an effort to seek out these stories. As a lot of us on here are avid readers, I felt like sharing!

Here are 10 of my favourite novels (in no particular order) by Black authors:

Half-Blood Blues by Esi Edugyan (Ok, slight order. This is my fav.)

The Fishermen by Chigozie Obioma

Everything, Everything by Nicola Yoon

The Book of Negroes by Lawrence Hill

Loving Day by Mat Johnson

Devil in a Blue Dress by Walter Mosley

Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe

Fifteen Dogs by André Alexis

Homegoing by Yaa Gyasi

New People by Danzy Senna

This February, I have three novels lined up to read so far:

Pride by Ibi Zoboi

My Sister, the Serial Killer by Oyinkan Braithwaite

If Beale Street Could Talk by James Baldwin (So excited to watch the film, but I want to read the book first!)

Black History Month is a reminder and an opportunity to listen, support, share, and applaude. If there’s a novel you feel passionate about it, recommend it to me! Tell me what I need to read!

I would love your suggestions!

retrotica

“When suddenly, at midnight, you hear an invisible procession going by with exquisite music, voices, don’t mourn your luck that’s failing now, work gone wrong, your plans all proving deceptive—don’t mourn them uselessly. As one long prepared, and graced with courage, say goodbye to her, the Alexandria that is leaving. Above all, don’t fool yourself, don’t say it was a dream, your ears deceived you: don’t degrade yourself with empty hopes like these. As one long prepared, and graced with courage, as is right for you who were given this kind of city, go firmly to the window and listen with deep emotion, but not with the whining, the pleas of a coward; listen—your final delectation—to the voices, to the exquisite music of that strange procession, and say goodbye to her, to the Alexandria you are losing.”

—

The god forsakes Antony

- Constantine P. Cavafy (1911)

letheane-deactivated20200121

“We cannot live in a world that is interpreted for us by others. An interpreted world is not a home. Part of the terror is to take back our own listening. To use our own voice. To see our own light.”

— Hildegard von Bingen, from ‘Selected Writings’