An Old Friend

During my residency at Yasmina’s B&B in Cairo with Iana Komarnytska I am getting a chance to work on a number of projects in music, dance, photography and video. The space also inspired me to take up again an interest that has been postponed for many years: learning to play the oud. Last night I felt compelled to sit at this beautiful little corner and practice. I tried to put aside the useless guilt-trips of “I should have been doing this all along” and focus on the present moment. That present moment is not usually where my mind goes. It goes to self criticism of the paralyzing kind with all the “shoulds” lurking behind every shadow. But those pesky thoughts didn’t come this time. I picked up the oud and allowed myself to be what I was with this instrument: a beginner.

It felt like catching up with an old friend, deep into the night, where you pick up exactly where you left off, and tell stories of your time apart as if it all happened last weekend.

It also went beyond that. I felt like putting up my camera and setting up the lights so I could share this moment with you. It reminded me of the 1001 nights and a quote from “Some Girls” about Sharazade:

“The story of Sharazade is the story of the storyteller. We hope the stories we tell will be the stories that save our lives.”

In my case, they are stories of being too late, too old, too lazy, not good enough. This little photo, these videos, these words, are a reminder that those stories are lies, and there are better tales to tell. Cos sometimes we just need an old friend to remind us that the night can be young. And so can we.

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