30 hours of travel like a little oud by the river, in all of its longing and hesitation

The esoteric illiterate, writing out-of-context

I just woke up from a dream about you.

The poem your Uncle Bader had written on the wall at their old house in sharq his handwriting was beautiful it was about love being a burden, desire a poison A parallelogram of an eager heart

Happy endless blue sky, nightstand with AlSanousi's novels, and evening rain.

The friends you loved

It's so easy to be a woman, like doing handstands with tigers.

Worried to be sitting alone by the river, I saw three cranes land.

I loved going to my grandpa's house in Adailiya, and now I love listening to my mom's stories about her youth there.

Watermelon after Lunch

Mama's youth in Old Sharq

Kayla Lyall and Carlos Menchaca, Caña in the Bosque

He took his boat out at night because the water was as still as olive oil. Alone, he was startled by a swimming cow.

Apart from the wild boars, it's like magic being with Alex who sits with me through everything. Roman Aqueducts and a fig tree at the stream on a hike behind their home in Le Tholonet

When I felt shy as a child

Summers like boars far from the sea

11 p.m. watermelon and black tea with my dad at the sea. He was so funny, and he was always humming music to himself.

How do you like to celebrate

The costumer at the National Institute of Flamenco Arts making masks during the pandemic.

When I was 17 my parents moved back to Kuwait and I would visit them during the summers. I would go on after-midnight swims in the sea with them.

Trying to fit in my first morning in New York City.

Pretending to be a local tailor. Who was my grandmother hiding?

People will burn the anguish, anxiety, and gloom of their past year in Santa Fe.

Under the weight of locusts and grief, people saw him burning his old coat among the jasmine plants

Poet and artist Federico Garcia Lorca bringing theater to rural villages, uplifiting flamenco cante, and creating art under fascism.

Poeta en Nueva York

Patrilineally not fitting in.

National Hispanic Cultural Center Book Festival Poster

Traveling between cities and spending a night alone, April was met with unexpected company.

Each year, Noah walks from Albuquerque to the Santuario de Chimayó with his guitarrón.

Albuquerque's October Sky

After a bit of time hiding, I'm ready to face the pressure!

Summer dreams and places I often pass or see

Argument

Without notice, April grabbed my hand and ran into the theater.

Abbass at sea

In a dream I was in Kuwait and coming back to Albuquerque. The only reason stopping me from taking the boat was the night.

Whenever I forget my studio window open, my toughest critics come in and have a party.

My father liked to write poetry.

Alex took me to see Cezanne's studio.

Me + Mohammed after the antiquities museum

Uncertain of what the future holds, Alex moved back to Paris.

My dad really, really wanted me to be strong, independent, and educated. When I feel scared, I can still hear him pushing me through.

When me and Alex met, we went to every art exhibit, movie, and performance we could get to. We ran around all of Paris, and when I felt homesick, she invited me to the sea with her family.

Illuminating beauty in the darkness.

Night Unraveling

Hadrien likes to write fiction.

We ran into a family of wild boars.

Peeking at my heritage through Dilmun and Greek ruins on an island 10 miles off the shore

Dilmun Favicon

I worry and ruminate about a lot of things: like speaking with people I admire.