By Lisa Saltagi It was mid-summer. Those nights when nothing matters except who you’re with and how much the sun has painted your body gold in those glorious afternoon hours.I was in a shop by the water – one of those places that is a labyrinth of little rooms with everything that you never needed and never even knew you …2people like this.
Dear diary I am tired. I spend my mornings sending out hundreds of emails and my evenings racing my fingers on the keyboard while listening to stories in my headphones. Every morning I wake up hoping that today’s sunshine will last longer, that I will find at least one reply to yesterday’s emails, that my stories aren’t boring, that this day will be …0people like this.
I am a puzzle fanatic. This statement may seem unbelievable to the people who know me well, giving that I am awful at playing puzzle games. I never see the pieces that should fit together fast enough and images that children can assemble in only ten minutes, I usually solve in twenty. But human puzzles! Oh, the human life puzzle! The pieces that build the …0people like this.
First day of high school. A lot of new faces, a lot of smiles and hand shakes. I sit in front of my classroom door thinking I do not want to step into this new world full of new acquaintances, new dramas, new friendships that will most likely end bad. I take a deep breath, put a fake smile on …0people like this.
As many of you know I am the writing queen of the indie documentary film project “Growing Cedars in Air”, directed by Mark Abouzeid. Yes, you read it right, I am the writing queen! When people hear about what I do, they often ask me why did I get involved in a project about Lebanon, a country that has nothing to …1people like this.
Sitting in Piazza Santo Spirito watching people. A small market nearby invites people to look at the merchandise while making small talk. I feel like an ant standing still in a constantly moving colony. A beggar approaches and asks for a cigarette. I have none; he walks away. An old couple holding hands smile at me while passing by. Birds are …2people like this.
People change. It’s not something most of us want to admit or support, but change is unavoidable. No more than five years ago, I was the person who claimed change is not possible in a human being. I would say: “Yes you can adapt or slightly act different according to your age or the situation you are faced with, but you can …1people like this.
“Okay, you’re right!” is a very dear project to me; a collection of life stories, documented through detailed interviews with a man who has never failed, and yet he is an expert in failure. But who is Mark Abouzeid? Why should we hear his story and why is his story more important than others? It isn’t! His story could be …1people like this.
Sometimes I feel dead inside. A feeling of nothingness lurks me from around the corner, grabs my senses and throws me into a void. I write the feeling away. The keyboard becomes my best friend and every word pulls me back into this crowded world. Many people ask me when do I write? Why do I write? Do I have …1people like this.
When I met Mark Abouzeid it was “no pants” day. It was a hot, summer day in Florence and wearing pants just didn’t make sense. Later that afternoon, two friends invited me for coffee in Piazza Santo Spirito and forced me to put some pants on. They introduced me to, what they called, “an interesting subject” to interview for my …2people like this.