Fall 2009

In general, I spent this fall preparing my applications to graduate school. I decided over the summer that social psychology is where I want to focus my training in the near future, and particularly in the area of intergroup relations and conflict. I reseached programs and read literature, took the TOEFL and GRE, wrote my essays, managed to improve my resume a bit by publishing an article, and presenting research at an international conference. I had no idea it would take so much time, so much work, and so much money. It is an inherently unfair system to the underprivileged. Thankfully, I made it through. A bit more about that later.

Let's start where I left off in my last entry; September, after a fantastic labor day weekend. It was a strange arrangement at Clark that semester. I had only one class a week, no homework, no readings... I was supposed to be in lab all the time. Instead, I was there only occasionally. I took part in some discussions/seminars in peace psychology and other things, keeping in touch with the field, making sure I knew the field enough and was up to applying to grad school. In hindsight, I still can't think how I could have done otherwise, though I paid for it dearly in the spring and summer that were to come, making up the Master's work.. But I'm getting ahead of myself again.

On September 19th, I went to Boston (the Panera near the Red Sox stadium) to a brunch that the Phi Beta Kappa people threw for award winners there. It was just a couple hundred that helped me get through the summer, but getting to know those people was even better. We talked, ate, and then some of them offered to give me a short tour of their favorite places in Boston. We went to the Boston Athenaeum, a really, really old private library near the Commons, as well as the Christian Science Center's maparium, which I recommend to everyone, if you would like to be sitting in the core of the globe, and see how much the map of the world has changed since the early 20th century. And if you like acoustic tricks.

After mid-September, I began taking lessons in Spanish, Hebrew, and Icelandic, from some great friends. Why? I like languages. I just wish I had time to keep it going long enough to master them. But it was fun while it lasted, and now I know I want to and I will learn at least the first two before too long. As September was drawing to a close, my laptop gave up the ghost, a mere 3 days after the warranty expired. I think that was the most difficult thing to deal with this whole year, in some ways. Thanks to the generosity and support of Casey and Cali, a gloomy acceptance of misfortune and the way it seems to find me, and enormous stubbornness about completing the things I set out to do, I was able to make it work.

Before I go on, is it a common experience in life that one perceives the misfortunes that happen upon them as being suspiciously timed and orchestrated in nature? Am I crazy for thinking that my misfortunes always happen after periods of happiness and contentment, and that they end up being things that are just bad enough to destroy my well-being, but not bad enough to stop me from going on, just making things as hard as they could possibly be? Anyway.

On the 1st of October, I continued my now 5-year tradition of seeing a Shakespeare play in the fall. It was Aquila Theatre performing As You Like It. It was an excellent evening. It was also October when I most got to see my friends Steph, Ryan, and Kyo, with Becky, who in her great spirit brings such valuable and unlikely friends together. My first paper was published October 23rd.
On Thanksgiving Day, I finished applying to graduate schools. I applied to 9 programs;

University of Notre Dame (Joint PhD in Psychology & Peace Studies)
University of Michigan (PhD in Psychology of Personality and Social Processes)
University of Chicago (PhD in Social Psychology)
University of Massachusetts Amherst (PhD in Psychology of Peace and Violence)
University of Virginia (PhD in Social Psychology)
University of Connecticut (PhD in Social Psychology)
State University of New York Stony Brook (PhD in Political Psychology)
Princeton University (PhD in Social Psychology)
Georgetown University (PhD in Social Psychology)

So, November finally ended, after seeming to take eons and draining me of every ounce of energy and motivation I had. I got the first week of December to take a bit of a breath, capped nicely by seeing my first official Great Whiskey Rebellion show on the 4th, at Beatnik's. Amy, Geo, Nick & Emma were as brilliant musicians as always, but this was the first time I heard them play their own songs, with a full set, and instilling their distinctive atmosphere in public venue.

Then came finals week, though that week had very little to do with exams for me, it was still a pivotal time for me. I started seriously working on my Master's research, hung out for the first time for a decent time with my roommates, Alec and Stamos, and on the 16th, had coffee at the Bean Counter for the first time. That cup of coffee would end up giving me the only thing that I would really treasure, and truly regret, out of the whole year. Wouldn't you like to know what that was?

Winter break passed in a blur of labwork. The highlights included beginning my friendship with Father Si, a good and genuine man, whose experience of the world, compassion, and commitment to all the good things that come from a true faith, inspired me and gave me a real adult companionship I'd been lacking at college. And Jesse and Peter came to visit for a week, we went and saw movies, made crepes, and had the old gang (dave, val, etc.) over for some interesting games (the hat game, interrogation oh hell..). I also had to say goodbye to Steph, though I hope it will not be our last meeting. Nagraj also came to visit, after a long absence. New Year's Eve and Day were quiet and solitary, though Ali and John dropped by to say hello.

Here, I would just like to reiterate that though this is a public forum, I do write here mostly to remind myself of my days past. And of friendship and companionship I do not wish to lose in memory and change. So for my followers, I apologize for some of the more mundane details, but you have been warned.

Overlate

It has been over three months since I updated this thing, so bear with me while I catch up and get back into the rhythm of this format. My absence has been mostly due to the fact that I've been laptopless for a while, and because I've been so busy with my PhD applications. But we'll get to all of that. I really don't understand how these months have passed so quickly. Almost an entire semester, just gone. Every day since I last wrote has been a challenge and a struggle, and all my focus has been on just getting through it. Now that I have, it is all blurry in my memory. But my trusty planner will remind me. The poor thing has suffered much, including the sad necessity of scheduling my social events and time with my friends. But anyway, I'm excited to remember with you, so let's begin.

A few days after I got back from Cape Cod, my friends Liz and Aaron and Kayleigh and Cassie took me to Boston. We went to a comedy show/bar in the attic above a Chinese restaurant in Harvard Square, which was hilarious in itself. The comedians were pretty good too. Half of them were PhD students. Haha I really hope I don't have to rely on my ability to entertain to get by next year, if I get in. Well anyway, afterwards we went to a bar, also in Harvard Square, which was quite unique in my experience; it was mostly open air, they had this huge terrace. Somebody's beer garden, it was called. I was certain our waiter was an Arab, but Kayleigh didn't believe me so of course I had to embarass myself by asking, and showing her. He was actually Bangladeshi. Haha, never again will I assume I know someone's nationality by their name.

The next day, one of my best friends, Robin, came back from break. She was picking up her fiance at 4am, so we decided we would stay up, like old times. With her and Sara and Emily and a bunch of other people, we went to the Dive bar for a little while. They had this awesome funk band, and we had a good time, though not as many people got into the mood of the night as last time... That was the week people started coming back to Clark, and a happy time for meeting up with friends, old and new. There was the dinner with Lauren and Jess, the afternoon looking at the art in the park with Molly and that bunch, dinner with Fahad and Darija, tea with Becca, and meeting the student that the ISP had sponsored to come to Clark, Fouad Ahmed. It was a pleasure meeting that man, and a surreal trip back to freshman year. He was very shy, polite, but excited, and reminded me strongly of myself when I first got here. We signed him in to his dorm, met his PA, oh man, it was like being a freshman again myself! Well well that year is long gone and there's no going back.

By about the 27th, 74 Woodland was once again fully occupied, and work was back in full swing, at the lab and at the UC. But with Labor Day weekend coming up, Liz threw a party, which was very fun. But that was just preparation for our plans for the next week. The week really started on Wednesday, with dinner with Alec and Sara, and a night out with Miah and Casey until 4am. The next day marked the end of a phase that had agonized and delighted me for half the summer, and I'll just leave it at that. Friday came, just in the nick of time, before I went insane with all the work I was putting on myself for the semester. Jeff, Kayleigh, and I left 35 Clement to go camping in a plot of land Liz had on the borders between Conn, Mass, and NY. Liz and Aaron met us there with Mike and Corri and Evan and a bunch of other friendly folk. That first night, we played a little Ultimate, went over to our campsite, which was a clearing in the middle of a corn field, with mountains all around. The weather was perfect, but the campfire made it even better. Half a bottle of gin later, I was ready to go whitewater rafting the next morning.

This was where we were staying. We never got around to a midnight swim in the pond but that's probably just as well. We got enough swimming done in the Housatonic River. Not that we sucked at whitewater rafting. It was just a somewhat mild ride for the first half , five miles or so, and there were trees and swings and beautifully warm water involved, and you can't just pass that up. Oh, and pirate raft battles. My raft won!

The poor group in the other raft were stuck half the time, and it didn't help that we had no scruples. Shoes and other improvised missiles were used. Not to mention the tried and tested aerial suicide attack. We even laid ambush for them at an island in the middle of the river. After all of this, it was decided that mexican food was in order, and we met up with Cassie. We had another wonderful night around the campfire, and prepared for hiking the next morning.

The next morning, we headed over to Liz's house, which was a few minutes away, made a glorious breakfast, threw a disc around, and laughed at the evil monkey and Kayleigh's inability to stop laughing.

This was on the way to the top of South Brace Mt. Damn it was beautiful. The hike was a bit steep, and someone must have fed Kayleigh meth (or that's how she reacts to bacon), but it was very much worth it. Wish I could do it every day actually. Oh well.

Oh, and here's all of us (except me, obviously) at the top of the mountain. Cassie and a few others had left us earlier, sadly. After hiking, we went back to the river to swim and dive off of some reputedly safe but fun boulders.

The place where my phone met its untimely end. From these terrifying heights that Liz is so nonchalantly surveying, I dove into the Housatonic, at a pool right below the falls that the dam had made. When they said boulders I imagined what, 10, 12 feet high? This was like 20 or more! 7 or 8 meters! Don't laugh, I don't do so well with heights. But with half the swimming/diving team there, what could I do? We had one last night at the campsite, pillaged and burned, and then came back Monday, this was the 7th of September. It was amazing. As soon as we left, the weather started getting nasty, and it hasn't been summer since. It was like we were gifted that last weekend of pure contentment, by Summer herself, in her delight over our merriment. As if she knew what a pain in the ass Autumn was going to be this year, and so tried to make up for it one last time.

August Cape Cod

My home away from home, that source of peace and hope amidst the fierce strangeness and the desolate isolation of my estrangement continues to be Falmouth, home of my brother in all but blood, Jesse Swain, and his family. This weekend, Jesse was not here holding for me his usual comradeship and loyalty, life having taken us on different paths. But to Peter, his brother, Mr. and Mrs. Swain, and his Nana, Mrs. Fuhrman, in nobility of spirit and kindness of heart, this mattered not at all. And not only did they treat me as a valued friend of their son, but as a son of theirs true and dear. And thus they have become to me, family in every sense that matters. For that, for them, I am blessed, and grateful. They and their home are in every sense august, a much-needed hint of inspiration in this otherwise difficult August.

I believe that's enough out of me. A taste;

For those days of happiness, for those nights of serenity and security, I owe them a great debt.

For their gift of the beloved waters, their silver and salt

For their sincerity and respect, for sharing their lives, their loves, their ideas, their feelings


For sharing the wonder of written word and masterful music
For keeping me from writing such lyrics of aloneness, or such music so brilliantly pained

Washburn Island

Menauhant Beach

Falmouth Inner Harbor

"Baked in the Hole" since 1982

The Falmouth Grille

Together all, at my graduation in May

I hope a day comes when I can be half so generous, half so kind. I hope you see a glimmer of how I felt, what I saw, that weekend. Let me assure you, every visit is just as precious, and wholly unforgettable. Beautiful people make beautiful places magic. I hope your every moment is so. Good night to you all.

New England Summer Pt. 3

The 28th of July dawned bright and beautiful, and a sudden urge took me to take a long walk and enjoy the brilliant clarity of the air. Two hours later, I walked into lab, and worked for six hours. Feeling highly accomplished, I continued my day of action with a bike ride with my friend Sara, to the Worcester Public Water Supply Reservoirs, along the bike route that goes there from Park Ave. It was as if that route belonged to another dimension, separate and apart from Worcester. You could not tell you were in a city, and it is at times like those, my friends, that I am happiest. Wind in our faces, and green and sparkling silver and blue everywhere, we biked for two hours and more, and I felt I could have gone on forever. I got back to my house, and found my bathroom flooded, as something had gone wrong with the pipes. I felt like this was going to ruin my day, but as soon as I had done, as if she knew exactly when I needed it most, my friend Liz called me, and asked me if I wanted to go rock-climbing. So we took off, myself, my friend Aaron, and her, and she gave me my birthday present, a night at the rock-climbing gym, and more importantly, a new experience. It was fantastic. I climbed, and bouldered, beginner-level climbs really, but I managed them and that was great, for I'd never actually done anything quite like it before. We came back and celebrated our energy and vitality, and then I was off to see Cali and Miah and Colin, and we played a rail-road track building game that was suspiciously like Risk. That day was the fullest and most satisfying of the summer here, starting at 5am, and ending at 3am. Crazy, huh?

On the 31st and 1st, I was with my friend Dave on a 4 1/2 hour car ride to Portland, through torrents of rain, and throughout we shared music, and laughed continuously, enjoying people-watching (car-watching) and being watched. We got to my friend Joe's house in Portland, and saw Carly, one of my best friends, there. Portland was such a good city, it felt to me like a larger version of Brattleboro, green and wholesome, but also quite the city, bustling and full of life. Half the time we were there, we played with their dog, Hobbes, the sweetest and most loveable golden ever. The other half we spent at Crescent Beach. That place was gorgeous, right off of a forest/marshland, with a stream bisecting the beach and running into the ocean. The stream was blood-red with iron in the water, and as it came into the sea it sank underneath the lighter saltwater, and caught by currents, made lovely patterns of red in the blue canvas of the Atlantic. I collected many rocks and sea-shells, relapsing into an old hobby of mine. Really, I just like shiny things. We had a good dinner at a tavern nearby, and when we got back, we made a fire outside. Sitting there, with Hobbes next to us, drawn close to the fire outside our home (cave), was such a primeval pleasure.

Sunday the 2nd we came back, and my friend Becky had finally come back from her trip to Jordan and was visiting in Worcester. Kind and generous both she and Emily were, showering me with birthday presents. We went to a cafe like we have back home, a rarity in these parts; we sat outside and chatted and drank our tasty brews. The Bean Counter, I believe was its name, on Pleasant St. Then we went right across the street to Corner Grille, far and away the best pizza place in Worcester. We shared thoughts on books we'd read; those days I was reading the sayings of Confucius, and thinking about the Bhagavad-Gita, so it was both a pleasure and a need to share them, some of the oldest and yet most intelligent writings humans have ever achieved.

The next day, the 3rd, was Monday, which was 10 cent wings night at Peppercorn's. I'd never gone, but Liz and Aaron invited me, and I was delighted for another excuse to try something new. They were quite tasty. The 5th was Taco Night at Downing, we made really tasty ones, after going to Peppercorn's across the street for free drinks at the COPACE social. We went and sat out on the Dana quad on the grass, and brushed up on our French. I also got the chance to help Sara with photographing the full moon that night. It was an odd scene by any account, but if you did not know what was happening, it must have been so weird; there we were out on the sidewalk, with a tripod and a camera pointed at the moon and trees and houses, and us counting time for the exposure, at like 1am.

The 6th I had worked at the infodesk all day, and was quite tired and ready to go to bed, when I got a message from Emily saying that it was the 1st anniversary of the Abbey, and they had live music, a really funky, good, band, out on the patio of the Dive. I was like, ok, I guess I'll go have a drink and listen to a few songs and come back. And that's what they thought too. But no, we ended up staying and dancing until 1am, they were so good. Half of Clark was there that night, and the whole night had very spontaneously gone from a regular music night at the bar, to an all-out dance party. Everyone was unselfconscious about it too, which is the mark of the very best dance music, I think.

The 7th was Friday, and after working in lab until 1230 or so, I had lunch and gave Arabic lessons to Sara, who is perhaps the greediest learner I know. She might even be as bad as I am. Then I went with my friends Liz, Aaron, Cassie, and Kayleigh and a bunch of other people (NEW friends!) to Douglas State Forest, a beautiful forest and lake area, with Atlantic white cedar swampland as well. The water was beautifully warm, and chock full of interesting fish and plantlife to look at. The water was clear enough to look at from above, even down to a meter and a half, and it was even better with goggles, seeing the sun's beams spear through the water and the plants and the schools of fish that circled me. We went to Coney Island Hot Dogs after, in Worcester, and for the one time this summer, I broke my rule about buying red meat, in order to have this new experience.

And so, that concludes my adventures this summer so far, and looking back, I have done plenty in these 6 weeks, and have had some of the best times of my life. From now on I shall try to write about my experiences as they happen, to keep them fresh and infused with the true emotions and sensations of the moment, and not as filtered memories. I can try, anyway.

New England Summer Pt. 2

Ok, so I decided I couldn't wait. Installment number 2, coming up. Armed with a bottle of wine and with the tasty Kasteel Donker (I have to thank you, Erica and Molly, for introducing us), I headed up to Tweed River Music Festival, in Stockbridge, Vermont, for the Fourth of July weekend. It was my very first time camping (or pseudo-camping), and my first time seeing a music festival. So, in a grassy field, next to the forest and the beautiful Tweed River, between the high mountains of Vermont, came to me yet another spectacular piece of New England culture.

Emily frolicking in the forest. I think we were continuously frolicking for that entire weekend.

River!

Camping!


Kris Delmhorst. She was pretty great, but I didn't realize how good until I heard her studio albums on Pandora when I got back. Bow Thayer & the Perfect Trainwreck were pretty awesome too, as was Jeff Foucault, who I believe is playing with Kris in this photo. At midnight, they stopped playing because of the neighboring houses, but they just went right on down to the campfire we had going in the field, and played and sang there. The music was live, and alive around the fire. Such good cheer, and such belonging and fellowship, I didn't know how to make my smile go away as my face got sore, nor how to make my self feel less blissful as all thought fled and everything but being ceased to matter.

It was off and on raining all weekend, but it made everything look so much better when the light came out, because everywhere there were rainbows. It was the first time I'd seen a rainbow coming down all the way to the ground, in a field as Emily and I were taking a walk towards Stockbridge proper.

It was a shiny, colorful weekend.

On the way back. So content.


All the land was classic and familiar, and yet, never before had I actually seen such a place. Warm it was, and welcoming, and green with life everywhere you looked. Wholesome, I believe, is the right word.

Well, that was an overabundance of photos, but seeing as how it was the only time I'd actually had my camera on me this summer here in New England, I figured it'd break up the drab dryness of the text to follow.

I have no recollection of anything that happened between that 4th and the 8th, our next stop. I believe I was recovering from all the happiness. Not used to it, you know. But if I had recovered, I went right back to it, on Emily's birthday. After celebrating at Downing for a bit, we went off to Vincent's, a really cool bar right here in Worcester, that I had never known existed. I think this video captures a bit of its spirit, and a lot of the talent of Frank Morey, who lucky for us, was playing that Wednesday, as every Wednesday, but of whom we had never heard. This night was all about hidden gems, as you will see.

So, after the great time we had at Vincent's, we decided to go to a club. This was another first for me, and I have to say, a very surprisingly good one. I believe it was called Club Fusion, down in the canal area, on Water Street. Had tons of fun dancing. And then, instead of going home like sane people, we went to yet another bar, the Dive Bar. Awesome beer, some more dancing, and we found ourselves heading to a diner at 2:30am. I have to say, that when people told me Worcester had basically invented diners, I did not believe them. And I thought I knew what diners were. Oh no. Not at all. It felt like I was in a movie, or a book. Sitting alone (for a few minutes) at the counter of the diner at 3am, getting some food in this trailer they call the Boulevard Diner, felt inexpressibly romantic. Not romantic as in Hollywood movie romantic, but romantic in the truest sense (to me); I quote my friends Mr. Merriam and Mr. Webster on this: "marked by the imaginative or
emotional appeal of what is heroic, adventurous, remote, mysterious, or idealized". And then there was the food. And the pleasure of sitting with friends in the booth and sharing it. I shall never forget, or else I will have gone from the world for good and true, even should I still be walking it. And then, at some ridiculous hour, one of those hours of the night I usually live alone while others sleep, we sat down to continue our celebration, and watched George Harrison & Co. perform their concert in Bangladesh. I don't know what time I came home, but I remember that it was dawn. Now that, my friends, is a night. Were it up to me, every one of my nights would be as full. But a prisoner of my society and my biology, I am shackled in the dungeons of sleep, that destroyer of time and killer of opportunity.

Barely had the sights and sounds of that night faded from my eyes and ears, when on the evening of the 11th I made dinner for all those that had given me such memories and stories. We spent half the night cooking together, making blueberry turnovers with Sara, and ma3mool, which are best described in English as walnut sugar cookies. Apparently they taste quite similar to Italian wedding cookies. Mediterranean blood will tell, and all that. We made sbanekh w rozz too, a homely spinach stew with rice and pine nuts, which actually turned out to be quite tasty, especially with the sangria Casey made, and the Lebanese wine (Clos St. Thomas 2004) I brought. The night flew by in pleasant companionship, and the only complaint was that we could not be as we were forever. Honestly, I would have been fine with 5am, but then, I am insane. And potentially, those two things could be related.

A week later, I found myself cooking again, for myself and my roommate Jason and his friend. We had a grand old time, though we might have overdone the eating part of the night, moving from dinner, to ice cream at the Ice Cream Factory (the Clark Cougar ice cream is the best thing in the whole world, by the way), then to grinders and Domino's pasta bowls (oh chicken carbonara how I love you!). All this interspersed with the cloud Rorschach game, a funny little run-in with President Bassett, and Planet Earth. Ah, good times!

My friends Lauren, Helen, Jess, Joe, and Dave, all came to visit me from out of town, and they were all wonderful guests to have. Then, suddenly, it was the 25th, the day before my birthday, and I had no idea how we'd gotten so far along in the month. I had no plans for that weekend, and was quietly resigned to taking the weekend in solitude and quiet. But at 4pm on the 25th, I was invited to go visit Jeremiah, up Watertown way, near Boston, with some friends, who were leaving at 5pm. I think the idea of just taking off appealed to me, and so I did. We ended up all walking around Watertown in matching green shirts that Miah had from his work, with a whale in a Viking hat holding a pitcher of beer in its fin on the front. Pretty ridiculous, granted, but also highly amusing. We went around the town, which had quite more than its fair share of Armenian and Turkish shops and restaurants. And I was finally able to find some arak, and had real Lebanese drink for my birthday night. We all enjoyed ourselves immensely, and a party just sort of happened without anyone ever having planned one, and we were at least 10 people there that night.

Early morning of the 26th, my birthday, found us heading back to Worcester so I could go to lab (like I had gone on the morning of my graduation). If only results would come proportionate to the dedication one puts into our lab. But oh well. Lauren, my American sister, kidnapped me in the afternoon, and took me to the Ecotarium close to Worcester for my birthday, and we got to walk around in beautiful woodland and look at a polar bear, bald eagles (they are ENORMOUS, I never knew!), and river otters, among other things. And my friend Sara made me a wonderful dinner, and the night faded quietly and pleasantly away.

Ok, so its 330 am, about bed-time for me. I believe there's one more part left to this series, but that'll have to wait for tomorrow. I hope this deluge of detail has not bored you. It has been good for me to recollect and dwell on all these good memories. It has given my summer a depth and breadth I had not felt, in thinking only of the present and future. I hope it does something good for you too. Adieu.

New England Summer

Back from home, June 23rd. I need to remind myself with my bank statements, facebook, and my planner, of all that has happened since. It has been an amazing summer, but it is all just a blur in my memory, and what is now 6 weeks, seems to me like just one. Thankfully, I had a premonition this would be the case, and documented things much better than I usually would. There will be a time to reflect on this elasticity of time, and on my failing memory, but that time is not now. Now, I just want to show you my summer in fair New England. Mind you, it was not so fair, most of the time, and everything was grey and wet for days and weeks on end. But those days that it wasn't, they were celebrations of life and joy and light, and I am blessed to have had the chance to experience them. Just as I am blessed to have the friends who made it all possible.

Colin gets the first honorary mention, for picking me up from Logan. It was raining, obviously, and as always, worse in Worcester than elsewhere. But we got here safe, and thus in a kind of numbness and discomfort, I began this new stage of my life. I say discomfort, and numbness, not only in comment as to the weather, but also the almost vertigo-like sensation I had, in moving so quickly from Worcester, to Lebanon, and back, with just enough time so that as soon as I started getting settled, comfortable again with the culture and the atmosphere, I was off again, and had to do it all over again. I had people laughing at my rusty Arabic for a full month, and then, as it started coming back to its own, I was back, and people were laughing at my broken English. It is highly unpleasant to have my worlds so isolated from one another, and I suffer for it, even as I benefit, in complete immersion.

The very next morning after I arrived, I started my Master's research. In my lab, we look at a gene that's found in both humans and fruit flies (which are our research organism). Mutation in the gene is lethal in humans, meaning that humans cannot survive, or even be born, with it. However, in fruit flies, it only makes their wings shorter, and their eyes patchy. With a variety of experiments, our lab tries to figure out what the hell is going on. Theoretically, it's very interesting. Actually doing the lab work however, is the most frustrating and mundane business I have ever engaged in. I really hope it starts getting better soon; I have a full year of it still. We'll see.

Two days later, on the 26th, was the first Zombie Lair party I went to. The Zombie Lair was the home of some of my friends. I can only imagine that they have zombies as a primary interest in life. However, to Casey and Becca and the other denizens of the Lair, I am grateful, for giving me my first summer party of the year. That first week also marked a lovely time with my good friends Emily and Sara. At one point during which we decided some of us would go see Susan Tedeschi, the amazing blues-rock singer and guitar player, at South Shore Music Circus. So it happened that only a day or two after buying the tickets, on the 28th, me and Emily and Erica were off to the circus. The South Shore Music Circus lies in Cohasset, MA, a really quite charming place. We met our friend Jake there, who's house is practically right next to the venue, and he was a great host. I had no idea what I would find when we finally came to the venue, but it was better than I could have imagined anyway. It was a rotating circular stage, set in the middle of an enormous tent. Our seats were in the very front row, and I was sitting right next to the guitar rack the band was using. It was incredible. We walked in to the best opening act I have ever seen. Shemekia Copeland was her name, and she sang to us, unamplified on many occasions, and her voice still filled the venue, and her sound reverberated through the air and filled us with wonder and awe. I have yet to find a recording of her to match that sound, though her studio work is fantastic also. And Susan Tedeschi was also brilliant. she sang my favorite song of hers, Just Won't Burn, as her finale. Spectacular. It sounded a bit like this (sorry, couldn't find a better embeddable version:



This is the one picture I have of it, courtesy of Emily.


The 30th marked the day Cali was off on another of his traveling adventures, so we went to his farewell party. Him and Colin were excellent hosts at their home, the Sex Palace (um, what's with everyone naming their houses?).

On the 1st of July, Erica and Ashley threw their housewarming party at Carlito's Luxury Suites (again, with the names!), which was fantastic. I was running between there and the Zombie Lair, as my friend Jeremiah and I began our Wednesday night/Thursday morning traditions of lurking at the Lair in the evening and having Annie's (Clark Brunch) in the morning. That Wednesday was particularly insane. If I remember correctly, my friends Nick and Amy played for us at Erica's, the guitar and violin respectively. Nick broke his strings playing he played so hard, and Amy was breathtaking as usual. They really are fantastic, and its because of them I love Irish music so much now.

The very next day, Thursday, we began our preparations for the Fourth of July weekend. But that whole bag of shenanigans (a word that for me will forever be associated with you, Molly), will have to wait until my next post. It might happen tonight. Soon, anyway. And oh yeah, have you noticed that it's only been a week, so far, since I got back?

Mountain and Sea, Pt. 3

A picture of an old picture of me. Once, I was little. Once, I was limitless. I knew no boundaries to the world, to reality. Once, who I was and what I could do was infinite and free.



This is Basem. He is my best friend and twin spirit.
Any attempt to describe our adventures and history would be terribly mundane to you, but would fill books were I allowed to reminisce unchecked.
Passa is now engaged to another great friend of mine. May they live long and happily.



The eldest of my brothers, in front of some bar. We had some good times this summer. For the first time, we are old enough to enjoy each others' company as equals and friends. I can't wait for the years to come, as we mature and our brothers join us in companionship.



The house Gibran Khalil Gibran grew up in. This was the only room in the house. Seeing this brought home with unprecedented force how blessed we are, how spoiled, in these modern days; how greedy and demanding. How in foolishness, sloth, and vanity, we have complicated life for ourselves and harnessed our lives to that which is material and base. How ungrateful we are for what we have, how clueless of how much we take for granted.



The top picture is of the view looking out from Gibran's tomb, which is in the lower levels of this memorial built to him, shown on the bottom. His tomb is placed in a small cave in the mountain behind the buildings. Our trip here was phenomenal, and one that was, for me, in any case, an intensely spiritual one. My very own pilgrimage. For of all moral codes that I know of, that we humans have been exhorted to follow, his is the most true and pure in my heart and mind. He is verily my inspiration, and I cannot describe what I felt when I stood before his burial place, and there, where I had expected none, was his epitaph. It is the only piece of Arabic poetry that I ever learned by heart with just one reading.

ana 7ayyon mithlak, wa 2aqifo ila janbak
aghmid 3aynayka waltafit, fa tarani amamak

I am as alive as you, and I stand with you
Close your eyes and turn, and you will see me in front of you

I will not say I felt his presence, but I will say that the way I felt coming out of that cave was something I had never experienced before. It felt like I had been hailed from across space and time. I felt like I had been succoured from my aloneness, and had been joined on the abandoned paths I have chosen for myself.

My admiration and self-definition grow, as I contemplate the grace and forethought of those few words, that offer hope and support even in death. Such gifts are precious; so few and far between, for those seeking peace and goodness. So it has ever been, and so it always will be.


Random aside:
I read a quote once, in my aunt's house, that has stuck with me ever since.

Home - Where each lives for the other, and all live for God.

Even if you do not believe in God; read God as truth, energy, goodness, purity of thought and spirit, or read the individualized collective projection and personification of our ideal evolution as moral and social self-aware creatures. Read it as you may, but read the thought behind the words. Do that, and generalize it to the whole world, and you will have in a nutshell my moral philosophy. And maybe you will see why it so resonates in me, in its spirit, its simplicity, its rightness.



The mountainside in the evening. This is not a particularly good photo, but in my defense, there is no camera in the world that can capture in one picture the way those lights sparkled. How they glimmered upon the mountain between the pines, glamorous and yet humble, bowing before the light of the stars, and seeming to reflect them in worship upon the Earth. How they shimmered and twinkled, like some fabulous necklace of the gods, gold laid there in homage to the beauty of the land of the mountain and sea.



Thus the sun sets on the land of mountain and sea.
Thus the grey rain-curtain of this world sets in,
and thus dissolves the silver glass, into mists and memories.

For now