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Take my hand.

Come with me.

My dearest Beirut, no city makes my heart beat like you do, and no sunset — in the whole wide world — rivals with yours.
My dearest Beirut, no city makes my heart beat like you do, and no sunset — in the whole wide world — rivals with yours.

Please don’t use this photo without my prior consent. Thanks ¡

August 13, 2016. 01:23 am. The first Perseid to rip the nightsky in my viewfinder apart. The cluster of stars below is the Seven Sisters. #rheaahh
August 13, 2016. 01:23 am. The first Perseid to rip the nightsky in my viewfinder apart. The cluster of stars below is the Seven Sisters.

Please do not use this image without my prior consent. Thanks ¡

Startrails&Flashlights_Rhéa a.h. Hleihel
Stars dance around Polaris. Below, flashlights set the road ablaze.

This is a combination of two exposures. I used an 8-mm fisheye lens + camera set to ISO 100, f/5.6, 14′. The reason why I reduced ISO to 100, is primarily because a fish eye, namely a very wide-angle lens, will gather more light than other narrower-field lenses (of course !), except that it will in lesser time. The aperture is set just right to capture enough light without rendering the photo too bright and thus, unusable.

The star that doesn’t move is the Northern Star, our very own Polaris, the compass of the sky. Beyond 75″ on an 8mm, the lens will capture the movement of the stars, creating the beautiful startrails revolving around Polaris.

The wait is long. These are shots number 10&11. But the result is mesmerizing.

Please do not use this image without my prior consent. Thanks ¡

Clouds dissipate

​​Over the mountains and ouadis, which our terrace overlooks.

Stockholm, February 9, 1977 

Eva, my love, 

It’s over. One way or another, everything comes to an end. It’s all over some day. That’s perhaps one of the most fascinating truths we know about the entire universe. The stars die, the galaxies die, the planets die. And people die too. I was just talking to you on the phone. I can still hear the sound of your voice. I imagine you, before my eyes…a beautiful image, a lovely memory I will keep until the end.

This is the first time I’ve written to you knowing exactly what to say: I love you, I love you, love you, love you. I want you to know that. I want you to know that I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone. I want you to know I mean that seriously. I want you to remember me but not grieve for me. If I truly mean something to you, and I know that I do, you will probably suffer. But if I really mean something to you, don’t suffer, I don’t want that. Don’t forget me, but go on living. Live your life. Pain will fade with time, even if that’s hard to imagine right now. Live in peace, my dearest love; live, love, hate, and keep fighting…

I had a lot of faults, I know, but some good qualities as well, I hope. But you, Eva, you inspired such love in me that I was never able to express it to you…

Straighten up, square your shoulders, hold your head high. Okay? Take care of yourself, Eva. Go have a cup of coffee. It’s over. Thank you for the beautiful times we had. You made me very happy. Adieu. 

I kiss you goodbye, Eva. 

From Stieg, with love.

Extract from “Letters of Note”

Perspective

I don’t know if adopting a different perspective to writing – a much honest, all-cards-on-deck, brutal – would have this lethargic therapeutic effect, which is what I probably – mostly – need to face-to-face my very own self. And it’s ironic, it’s ridiculously stupid, that I get to write people’s stories, I get to hear them whine, lament, exult, jubilate, display all kinds of affections and emotions – however, I can’t write my own story, Lire la suite « Perspective »

You spoke to your parents on the phone for a while. They are happy for you. You can sense it in Dad’s voice. Dad’s happy for you. Mum’s happy too. You are happy as well. But it’s all different kinds of happiness. What is happiness is a divergent concept to each one of us. I guess each one of us is after one kind of happiness that the other probably wished they had. Or maybe I’m mistaken. I am confused as to what happiness is. Happiness is a state of mind, or maybe – maybe – happiness is always a person. Lire la suite « Of Happiness »

I have always anticipated with playful delight driving to the stables, carefully parking my car below the rings, hastily going up the stairs into the sandy arena. The sun was close to its reddish setting; Beirut looked like endless layers, infinite magical layers stacked in the dusty distance.

I gazed into the entry and there she was, marching up the curve steadily: Her name was Yasmina, and she was the mare I rode yesterday. Lire la suite « Molded in Trust »

 

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When the sun has set, no candle can replace it. — George R.R. Martin

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