Zuhar Blogs

I   A M   S P A C E I   A M   L I G H T I   A M  T H E   U N K N O W N I   A M أنــا الفضــا أنــا الضــو أنــا المــجهـــول أنـــا

I now indulge myself in the amateur drawing. I stopped drawing for ten years because I thought it was a waste of time. (I stopped it when I entered college).  After a burnout episode at work, caused by this growing shadow of feeling like a failure to what I was yearning for while forced to work in something I don't care about.  So  I  recently returned to drawing to the level I had in school. What helped me to enjoy making art once again is simply because I decided to be comfortable with the fact that I would not make money out of it. I think we are at fault to think about such creative endeavours are means to other ends. I look forward to being my own patreon and work fewer hours to allow myself to freely pursuit creativity. 

 Whether the absolute “Truth” exists or not is a vast and beautiful debate. However, the problem is that we are not hanging in Athens; instead, we are fighting through social media. In that social battleground arena, we can easily filter out people, ignore others and create our own cultural bubble.  I struggle so much with maintaining a good habit for debates that I developed. The difficulty of that habit increases with my increased interest in the topic: Whenever a collective discussion arises, I start to understand the argument that I am intuitively against (even if I had to go through annoying comments). Then I try to take out the positive aspects of their perspectives and include them in mine. Through this process, I sometimes find a middle way, which cannot be accepted by the mainstream contradicting positions. I often find myself having A centrist opinion that, On the other hand, a progressive person might discover too idealistic and unrealistic. On the other hand, the c...

As from nothing emerge these words I have been watching, witnessing The fullness of humans as they are taking up space.. That screaming baby, that productive achiever, that working mother, the labouring ones All labels produce noise out of nothing Can One sits with themselves without labeling them as One Just, together, I, alone, with, her, them, and him Echoes from the days that passed Echoes from the days will pass Coming through the five senses of The Nothing But, as The Nothing, is aware of their nothingness.. The echoes pass through and away And  Nothing Happens

How to invite the silence into the silence? Why is this silence seeks to meet with the one preceeds it?. When two silences merge, emerges  T h e   O n e Oh my silence, let the noise of these pleads guide you. Although you, yourself, are carrying the noise of your days. With all of his troubles and dreams. Where am I, but a drowning body within a stormy sea Where the waves of the century throw around our damaged body. There, my silence, is nowhere to rest. But, in between. There is a quietening between the first weave, and the second, and within one. Where the eyes of the storm shred their troubles   And there, and only there Is where you find yourself As the one silence Meeting  T h e   O n e