Wednesday, February 08, 2006

He Was a Nomad


 
He was a nomad, for all he knew, pushing the last strokes of color on the cold restaurant wall. For years, he recognized no borders. The entire world was at his chapped, painted fingertips. Yet somehow, his traveling soul always searched for a way back to the land where he was born. He knew not where it was. At least, not anymore. Yet he carried it around with him in a grey duffle bag, with the old brushes, the stained color jars, and the rest of his useless little things. His land had become the paint stuck between the bristles of his frayed brush, and pasted on the walls of people he barely knew. He was a nomad, true, but one with a land, a distant and beautiful land he barely remembered, yet one he knew he would never leave.

8 Comments:

Blogger Samer said...

This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

6:28 AM  
Blogger Firas said...

Unlike the rest of you poor souls, I can say that this painting looks even better in person.

--Firas Fustu2 (pistachio)

3:23 PM  
Blogger Zanzounito said...

I think that Nomad is you

7:20 PM  
Blogger Fouad said...

Hope you will samer

Allah ykhallik ya firas. hayda min zeyed lotfak wou refe3 akhle2ak ya amir inta- fouad kamen fustu2 :)

hmmmm.. you think so zanzoun? I too think there's a good chance he is :)

9:53 PM  
Blogger Samer said...

This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

10:20 PM  
Blogger Firas said...

Fouad tell Samer that his nose better stay out of this.

6:45 PM  
Blogger nour said...

nice painting Fouad..

Always been my dream house.. old stone with bricks and a garden around....

From the view, it looks like somewhere in Adma or Ghedress...
;-)

11:02 PM  
Blogger KNL said...

Wonderful painting!

11:41 AM  

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