A Vigil for the Holocaust in Palestine.

 

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The light of this earth is the children; the chosen people are EVERY HUMAN BEING, sharing the same timeline.

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Compassion is the lesson from the Holocaust for every human being.

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If only the children of Palestine had a Jewish israeli family compassionate enough to protect them. 

 

Thank all fictitious God, ANNE FRANK isn't a Palestinian girl. The religious Jewish soldiers would shoot her in the head for existing.

The Most Moral Army

 I need a place where my soul is free and peaceful, a place where I can write about love, longing, and the little things that unite and define us as humans. 

There's nothing humane about israel or Israelis, so I am moving all their crimes to another site:

www.themostmoralarmy.com

( it will take me a while; they have been killing Palestinians and other Arabs for 75 years. )

ART & WRITING

 

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The Tulip and the Comet.

A Tulip meets a Comet and longs to see the world.

( click on picture to purchase )

                                                          

The Apple Tree on the Hill

An apple tree grew up alone, until settlers arrived, and a French village bloomed.

( written by Marco Aurélio based on a painting by Lucas Aurélio. Front cover. )

Coming Soon!

( original painting - The Apple Tree on the Hill by Lucas Aurélio )

                                                          

BLUE MOON and the inner world

 

Every once in a blue moon, I know my place in this world, as if my GPS was roaming and it found me: my precise parallels, coordinates, latitude, and longitude, set to now. I feel that there is nothing beyond myself.

I feel like a tree or mountain would feel if it could feel present in time, place, and purpose. 

I ask if a tree or mountain would feel less, want more, or desire, as we do, to be elsewhere in order to do what it can perfectly do right here.

For all the analogies we have for flying, it is on the stillness of these moments that I find myself utterly grounded, paradoxically one with the vastness of our universe.

Flying is aimlessly seeking for oneself outside of itself.

A monk sitting still in meditation and thankfulness needs no wings to fly further than a bird of any kind; nothing material can connect the vastness of the soul and oneself.

The invisible is not only essential as the Little Prince taught us, but also the only portal to ourselves, for we can't be found elsewhere than ourselves.

Every once in a blue moon we don't reflect light; light is the source within and shines until we again forget to be blind to our place and time. Without our inner light, all we have left is our social climb.

                                                    

"Why can't you feel for us?" RAZAN AHMAD ALRIFI

"My mother was a martyred?"

"My father was a martyred?"

"My brother was martyred?"

"My nephew was martyred?"

"My sister was martyred?"

"We are exhausted!"

"Why can't you feel for us?"