15 x 15 Tile

This building is directly across from one of the Hariri residences. With my back turned to the famous estate across the way, I focused my gaze on this house, and pulled out my camera to take a picture. Still, the security folks were not at all happy about my camera, not happy about its proximity to their domain. No photographs! one of them called out. I called back, pointing at this building with its amazing, unexpected, crazy tile designs. Please, I said. This is what I want a picture of. I promised I wouldn't take any pictures of the other side of the street.

He let me carry on and I kept my promise.

From a distance all those tiny little squares blend into lines and blocks of color.

I decided to post this enlarged section to better show the tiny tiles that also compose the blue facing on the intersecting face. I would have liked to get a clearer picture, but it's been cloudy and rainy and sometimes this is as good as it gets.

Pacific Hotel

Here's another tiled exterior. For as long as I've been in Beirut, the Pacific Hotel has been in ruins. This particular kind of ruination look like war damage.

It sits on prime real estate, so anything could be in store for the place. It's fate isn't known (to me, anyway) and I sometimes wonder if it will be revitalized (which would be awesome) or if it will be cleared out for something new (which might be awesome, you never know).

Whatever happens next, I hope they keep the blue tile and refurbish the yellow lettering. I like the color combination and the composition, the marquee Vegas-like feel of it.

Facade Deco

Not long ago I mentioned that there are loads of amazing tiled buildings scattered around Beirut. This one is the first I'll share here.

In a city that is increasingly marked by stone faced, boring monoliths, the pure ornamentation seen here makes me smile.  It strikes me as retro and also kind of awesome.

The last one in Saifi

I've been in and out of Saifi Village a lot in the past few days, and these excursions have taken me past what I expect is the last derelict plot in the neighborhood.

Saifi is a different animal, unlike other neighborhoods in the city. There, the buildings are uniformly charming, recently renovated, newly painted, all roughly the same height, vaguely frenchy. I any other part of the city a roofless, abandoned old house wouldn't draw the eye. But, as I said, this isn't like other neighborhoods. Clearly, this house is ripe for whatever magic wand will wave it into conforming with the rest of the neighborhood.

It's strange. Normally I'd wonder endlessly at its age and history, at scars inflicted upon it during some unknown, tormented past. I'd imagine the life it's already had, the life that has worn it out . . . but not this time. Here, I find myself wondering, much as I would over a newborn baby, what's in store for it. I wonder what it will be when it grows up.

Ready

I pass this building several times every day, but I'd never take a picture of it until now. It's so very unremarkable, normal, and a little ugly.

Life is short and the circumstances of our lives are fragile, transient despite feeling (right now at this moment) that they are quite stable and permanent. But they're not. Change, chance, and fate never hold still. In deference, then, to the truth that someday I will no longer pass this building over and over and over again, to acknowledge that someday I might forget all about it, I've taken a photo in case I ever think to miss it.

And now, I'm ready.

Poetry Cafe

Recently there was a poetry reading at my kid's school. A lot of kids (grades 1-5?) participated, reading their own original poems. There were even some adults; teachers, administrators, parents who wrote poems just for this event. It was great.

Here the crowd listens attentively.

If memory serves, this kid's poem was about chocolate. I was impressed by the quality and variety of the poetry. The kids wrote about their fears, the foods they love, the way the wind feels on their skin, how much they love their closest friends or family, and how much they hate homework. Some were funny and some were touching, some were long and some were short, but all of them made me love poetry on a satisfyingly simple level.

Roots

This morning at Souk el Tayeb, I saw this booth, proclaiming "The Root to Recovery". The sign in the photo begins with the text, "In 1965, 35% of Lebanon was covered by forests and greenery, but in 2007 those numbers dropped to an alarming 13%." Depleted green space is one on a long list of significant changes in Lebanon over the past few decades. 

At the market, they were selling a variety of potted plants. All profits from the sale go to planting trees, to recover some of the lost green space.

Organics

When it comes to food, I feel pretty lucky here in Beirut. Fresh local produce year round (thank you temperate climate!), a culture that favors a vegetable-heavy cuisine, and very reasonable prices at the market are all fantastic aspects of life in Beirut.

And, if you're into organic produce, you're in luck.

There are the farmers markets that take place on various days around town and if you can't make it to one of those, you can find certified organics in the big grocery stores.

And, there's Healthy Basket, a shop in Ras Beirut that will deliver a weekly basket of organic "stuff" to your door--I say "stuff" because in addition to the produce that fills most of the basket, you might also find eggs, grains, etc. thrown in there too. Here's a link to their contact info if you want to sign up for a weekly basket of your own.

If I Had a Purple Wall

If you had a purple wall, what would you do with it?.

Maybe you'd lean a ladder up against it. Or, maybe you'd have an antenna towering over it. Or maybe, you'd sit a huge ruby-red generator out in front of it. I'm just throwing out ideas here. The possibilities are endless.

One of Those Days

Sometimes, what I like best is a clean, simple image with strong lines.  An utterly unambiguous image.

I guess this is one of those days.