Thursday, July 30, 2009

The Flowing River of Liquid Light

I am on a boat. No. I am on a ship. I'm still me, but the clothing I wear, the ship I'm sailing in, my surroundings, are all telling me that I've been taken back to the late 15th Century. I am wearing a heavy cloak of hides and furs, but I feel like an impostor in this "costume". The ship is similar to the Santa Maria. As soon as I begin to say this to myself in my dream, I catch myself. "No. It is the Santa Maria." But Columbus is nowhere in sight. Instead, there is a haggard looking man wearing an unbuttoned, loose-fitting shirt and ragged pants. He seems to have suffered greatly, and although he has not said so, I know that his spirit is broken. The ship is rocking gently, and I look over the side to see the waves lapping against the hull. The waves look unreal, almost cartoonish, like the waves depicted on antique maps of the world. The sky is lead-gray and pregnant with clouds. When I return my attention to the man, he is looking at me, but I am not surprised, and I do not feel threatened. But I do feel irritated. And all of a sudden, I am impatient with him. I want him to disappear, to go away, to never have been there in the first place. As if in answer to my wish, a woman appears in the distance. She is also on the ship, and I wonder to myself where she has been this whole time. But before I can consider the possibilities, the man turns around, as if he has sensed her presence, and runs toward the woman. He has a knife in his hand - a very large knife. The blade is glowing violently, throwing its reflections at the darkening sky. The waves have become choppy, and are now rocking the ship viciously. I am afraid, but not for me. I am afraid for the woman, who seems to be bolted to her spot. She is not moving. And there is no sign that she will do anything to remove herself from impending danger. Her face is like a mask. Her body, like a marble statue. I am anxious, I do not know why. I know neither the man nor the woman. Neither person means anything to me. So why should I bother with what is about to happen? But my anxiety is so overwhelming, I run toward the man and fling myself at him, reaching for the hand wielding the knife. "I hate you," I tell him, with what is now anger making my voice tremble. "If you do anything to hurt this woman, I will throw you overboard for the sharks." Anguish washes across his face. And misery. And desperation. He raises the knife over his head and stabs himself repeatedly in the chest, making gaping holes across his naked torso. Every hole in his chest is a perfect circle, and out of every circle pours a flowing river of liquid light. I remove my cloak, with almost mechanical gestures, and slide it over the man's chest, perhaps to stifle the blinding flow of light. And then, I stand in my place and watch. No screams. No tears. No emotion.

The dream ends.

Wednesday, July 29, 2009


Hi! I'm Nevine. And this is my brand new blog, still in the works. In fact, it'll probably be in the works for a while. But that's all right. This will be my place to kind of relax from the more Type A life I usually lead.

Because I'm an aspiring writer, my blog will often feature some of my short stories, short shorts, and poetry. I'll also be sharing some of my dreams (my sleeping dreams that is), and what I call deliriums, although they're not necessarily that. My deliriums are more like those dreams I have when I'm slowly slipping into sleep, not quite there, not quite there, slipping further, and then... SHOCK! I'm up! It's usually the content of the so-called delirium that awakens me from what is promising to be some extremely blissful slumber. Let there be no doubt about it - my dreams are... well... weird. I'm not sure I have another word for them. But my travels into the realm of the subconscious are always exciting; they're a great escape. And that's also why I love to read. Reading takes me places, puts me in situations, and allows me to be people I could never even imagine.

Besides the travels that I experience through dreaming and reading, I also enjoy the other, more conventional kinds of travel - the land and air types, that is. My husband and I have done quite a bit of traveling together. I really treasure traveling with my favorite buddy - he makes every experience more enjoyable. But I can also say that I traveled extensively growing up. I'm very lucky! In the near future, I'll be posting a map with places I've lived in and visited. I can safely say that the only parts of the world I haven't yet explored are Central and South America. Yes, I know! I'm missing out. But at least I have something to look forward to. And honestly, I'm very much a citizen of the world because of the life I've had, but I still call Cairo, Egypt Home Home. No, that was not a typo. Home Home is correct. And besides Home Home, I also have Home and Former Homes. Home is currently the United States. I never would've thought I'd end up living in the U.S. But you know what? I never would've thought I'd end up living in Belgium, either. And that is one of my Former Homes. I have many Former Homes spotted across the globe, and I LOVE IT!!!

I also love to cook. This is not a joke. Cooking is a very serious matter for me. Really. I never cease to surprise myself, because once upon a time, I despised the mere thought of cooking. Conversations with my mother went something like this: "Nevine, why don't you come downstairs with me to the kitchen so you can learn how to make something?" And I'd be like, "Kitchen? Please. I like to eat but the prep part will always be for someone else to do." And then my mom would be like, "But Nevine, forget cooking for a husband and kids. What will you do if you ever have to cook for yourself?" And I'd be like, "I'll hire a cook." And then my mom would be like, "You're delusional." And that would be the end of that conversation. So, because I have a sordid history with cooking, and because the first time I tried to make something for my husband and me to eat after we returned from our honeymoon ended up evoking, "It's okay, Honey Bunny. I can cook for us. You really don't have to," I was determined to succeed. So, I pushed myself, literally dragged myself to a bookstore and bought a comprehensive recipe book (which I have since discarded because I now frown on those recipes), and I walked myself into my kitchen determinedly with the mind that no dish or cuisine in the world would challenge me. Huh! It's just food! And today, well, I'm not going to toot my own horn or anything like that, but I'm a rather fine cook - if I may say so myself! So, once in a while I may post a recipe I've created and seem to be waxing philosophical about one of the spices or something. But it's always the spices that bring out the flavor in food, no? The fragrance... mmmmm!

And speaking of fragrance, I'm an avid fan of perfume. Yes, I know it's quite rare in the U.S. for everyone to be walking around smelling like a French perfume boutique, but if I don't wear my perfume, on a daily basis, and especially when I'm going out, I feel like I'm not wearing shoes. That's how important perfume is to me. And I don't mind at all smelling like a boutique. I've got my favorites, of course, and I'm passionate about them - so passionate that they will be included in my writings, maybe even as main characters. Who knows? We'll see where it all goes...

And finally, my favorite thing to do in the world is talk. I love people and I love to chat with people about everything in the world. And that's why I have this blog. Sometimes, there is just so much to share, and so many people that you want to share it with, you don't know where to start, or with whom to start. And this has become such a busy world. We're all running around doing something. Most of the time, I'm running around just trying to catch my head. So, this blog is a vehicle for me. It's a way for me to say it all when I want to say it, right here and now. Raw, and off the cuff. And that's what I love best!