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Posts Tagged ‘Kuwait City’

Ink on tracing paper. Kuwait, January 2010. The scene at the bottom is what I saw-or decided to see- at The Avenues, the most popular mall in Kuwait City. There is nothing like seeing photography and drawings from a trip abroad to let it sink in that all reality is subjective, and we choose to see what we want to. We just don't realize it in our own backyard.



This was my small parting gift to my art-sister
Ghadah. I went to Kuwait without a proper gift for her, so I thought I would leave her with a low-tech collage, on tracing paper, of my trip. In keeping with the theme of censorship, which fascinated me- and was the basis for a project of a good friend of Ghada’s-I smudged the personal writing. Censorship frustrates me, and in some cases, puzzles me (especially the haphazard application of it); in other it surprises me- when the censor shows some obvious artistic abilities and inclinations- and I wanted to explore this in something I made. Seeing blurred information makes me feel denied.

(Mis)Using the name of a british band, Does It Offend You, Yeah?

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House in the 'Beit Al-Badr' complex, in the old part of Kuwait City. January 2010


As they used to say in old time radio ‘ This concludes our series’.

From Lonely Planet:

A traditional mud-built house, with heavy carved doors, Beit al-Badr was built between 1838 and 1848 and is one of the last examples of pre-oil residential architecture in the city. It is located alongside Sadu House.

A new multilane rotatory car-belt is being built adjacent the complex; the sight of the construction crews left me forlorn, mourning a loss that was not mine, and yet affected me – the loss of worn pathways, the tyranny of cars.
Half around the world, once again, cities are designed around automobiles, and not people.

So yes, this is the last installment of my Kuwaiti photography (for now?)
I still have some drawings to share, and a way to hold on to this trip for a few more days.

Traveling begets traveling, and the only cure for the invariable melancholia that follows a return home is to plan the next escapade.

Goodbye Kuwait


The world is a book, and those who do not travel, read only one page.


Saint Augustine





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