Awesome drawing...absolutely love it Amal. Been feeling like I want to do the same all day, but I'd dig down to the roots. Can I steal a copy of it pls?
Yet "Meiroun"* won't ever be able to cut that map down. She's part of Palestine.. a blow to Palestine is a blow to Meiroun. Both get hurt. Meiroun will have to stop eventually.
Let's say she manages to cut it ... the roots are still there... And they are Palestinian roots.
Always put yourself in Meiroun's shoes. Though she has no shoes..especially in this cartoon. (weinak ya Mo?)
Peace out to you all.
*Meiroun ;the name of the girl with the braids, is originally my home village in Northern Palestine.
For more info, please check the "Where I belong" link.
Amal, sorry for writing to late, but you said it all, don't look at it as if it's cutting, take it in more positive way, cutting the dying branches so it grow stronger and brighter.. Palestine is not about death, it's all about life, and that's why it still alive in people like Amal, and people who really take the few minutes to show that they care. and the name is النهاية؟ cause in the end we all go and the land stay, it's not only alnahaya, it's also and the same time Albdaya. I invite you to listen to THIS IS THE END, by THE DOORS. one of my favorite songs.
She took out her axe, And she stared at the blade, She cried, She couldn't look at her beloved tree, She knew she wasn't thinking... She was feeling cold, She was feeling left out, She never felt so sad before She felt so numb, and she was in doubt…
She held on to the axe firmly, She wrapped her hands around the handle, so hard… So hard that all the tears in her eyes couldn't set it loose… She closed her eyes, she looked away, she screamed She hit the tree, once… twice…
Little pieces of the giant were flying around… And they settled on her face, on her hands, On her lovely hair locks, A still sad moment went by... Then a different feeling invaded her…
The axe fell down, she opened her eyes, She was warm again, She couldn't understand, It was a feeling she knew so well, It was the warmth of her mother's chest Divided to pieces, She fell down... And she smiled softly…
She felt the warm little pieces leaving her face, Caressing it, tickling her cheeks… She looked at her mother, And all wounds were gone… All the wounds were gone…
تقودني أصابعي منذ أيام لكل ما هو فلسطيني ـ لحظي اكتشفت مرسمك... بصدفة لا أعرف متى أو كيف بدأت ـ لكِ لوحات موجعة يا أمل... والجرح -من البداية- .. بعمق الزمان تحيتي لكِ، وكل تقديري لميرون... المدينة، والفتاة ـ واسمحِ لي : http://woraikat.blogspot.com/2007/04/blog-post.html
Meiroun is my home village in Safad; Palestine. Meiroun is also the name of the girl with the two long braids in this blog.
ميرون هي قريتي في شمال فلسطين، قضاء صفد ميرون هو ايضا اسم الفتاة ذات الجديلتين في هذه المدونة
Copy Rights Reserved حقوق النشر محفوظة
جميع الأعمال المنشورة في هذه المدونة هي لأمل زياد كعوش. لاستخدام اي من الاعمال الرجاء التواصل على عنوان البريد الالكتروني اعلاه All the artwork on this blog are the creation and property of Amal Ziad Kaawash. To use any of these works please contact Amal on the email above.
22 comments:
Don't. God forbid that it should end this way. Both can be free without chopping.
brilliant amal...:(
so if the state is gone, "meiroun" stays, no? I see them out of one root.. I am confused..
just hope for better times. everything will be allright
Awesome drawing...absolutely love it Amal. Been feeling like I want to do the same all day, but I'd dig down to the roots. Can I steal a copy of it pls?
amal, it is a strong drawing and a beautiful one, but it causes so much pain. please read my thoughts on the subject.
amal !!! u do the same with ur voice !!! w this drawing reminds me of our famous song wel potentiel energy
bas berra7a 3ala nafsek ya bent !!
Dear friends;
I would love to elaborate about this drawing.
Painful? Yes.
Gloomy? Very.
And it was painful drawing it.
Yet "Meiroun"* won't ever be able to cut that map down. She's part of Palestine.. a blow to Palestine is a blow to Meiroun. Both get hurt. Meiroun will have to stop eventually.
Let's say she manages to cut it ... the roots are still there... And they are Palestinian roots.
Always put yourself in Meiroun's shoes. Though she has no shoes..especially in this cartoon. (weinak ya Mo?)
Peace out to you all.
*Meiroun ;the name of the girl with the braids, is originally my home village in Northern Palestine.
For more info, please check the "Where I belong" link.
khaayy!
i was just wondering..why did u call it alnihaya ?
Amal,
sorry for writing to late, but you said it all, don't look at it as if it's cutting, take it in more positive way, cutting the dying branches so it grow stronger and brighter.. Palestine is not about death, it's all about life, and that's why it still alive in people like Amal, and people who really take the few minutes to show that they care. and the name is
النهاية؟
cause in the end we all go and the land stay, it's not only alnahaya, it's also and the same time Albdaya.
I invite you to listen to THIS IS THE END, by THE DOORS. one of my favorite songs.
brillant
فظيعة
I'm speechless
never!
self destruction?
Meiroun is too sensible to do that.
She will wake up tomorrow.
Or the day after.
Thank you all for your wonderful participation.. you always make meiroun brighter ..
Wishing you all be well .. take care.
She took out her axe,
And she stared at the blade,
She cried,
She couldn't look at her beloved tree,
She knew she wasn't thinking...
She was feeling cold,
She was feeling left out,
She never felt so sad before
She felt so numb, and she was in doubt…
She held on to the axe firmly,
She wrapped her hands around the handle, so hard…
So hard that all the tears in her eyes couldn't set it loose…
She closed her eyes, she looked away, she screamed
She hit the tree, once… twice…
Little pieces of the giant were flying around…
And they settled on her face, on her hands,
On her lovely hair locks,
A still sad moment went by...
Then a different feeling invaded her…
The axe fell down,
she opened her eyes,
She was warm again,
She couldn't understand,
It was a feeling she knew so well,
It was the warmth of her mother's chest
Divided to pieces,
She fell down...
And she smiled softly…
She felt the warm little pieces leaving her face,
Caressing it, tickling her cheeks…
She looked at her mother,
And all wounds were gone…
All the wounds were gone…
حلو قوى الرسم بتاعك واللى عاجبنى اكتر الفكره بتاعة الرسمايه
تقودني أصابعي منذ أيام لكل ما هو فلسطيني ـ
لحظي اكتشفت مرسمك... بصدفة لا أعرف متى أو كيف بدأت ـ
لكِ لوحات موجعة يا أمل... والجرح -من البداية- .. بعمق الزمان
تحيتي لكِ، وكل تقديري لميرون... المدينة، والفتاة ـ
واسمحِ لي :
http://woraikat.blogspot.com/2007/04/blog-post.html
تذكرني بحكاية.. أحد الفدائيين عائد من جنازة صديقه, وفي الغرفة, أمام خارطة فلسطين جلس صامتا
رن التليفون: صديق آخر استشهد
خلع بسطاره العسكري وصار يضرب به الخارطة وهو يصرخ :
"يكفي.. يكفي.. إرحمينا!"
Post a Comment