Tuesday, January 31, 2006

Quick shot of a memorable poster

This is one of my favorite posters in the art building. In that building there are posters EVERYWHERE. I'm going to count them one of these days.

Ok, maybe not.

Sunday, January 29, 2006

Saturday, January 28, 2006

One Muslim, One Jew.

Last night I went to school to see a couple of comedians they had brought. I took my sister and her friend with me and we had a blast. I saw a bunch of friends and talked, saw Jonah walking, saw my FNL assistant friends, talked, took pictures.... etc. But the highlight was the comedians. One of them is Jew (Alper), the other one is Muslim (Ahmed Ahmed).... how loco is that!!! And well, Alper was fine, but I really got a kick out of pretty much everything Ahmed said! Of course we took some pictures after and got a CD. It was fun :D

I also saw the Comedy Committee banner that they had put in the middle of the stage. I'm very proud to say I drew the little comedian guy in the center of the logo. I know, I know.... I was pretty happy when I saw it blown up for a banner.

I'm also doing my first mural in a few days. I have to start looking for the materials and the brushes and all.... I don't even know what I need. It's my first mural so I need to do some research on the materials first. I'm getting the sketches ready and, of course, getting really excited about the whole thing. This will be refreshing. Just what I need :D I told the guy I'm doing the mural for that I'm gonna feel like I'm Diego Rivera.... how awesome!

Friday, January 27, 2006

Last night I was in my Essay Writing class and everything was good. I even like the textbook for that class, I'm really looking forward to writing and learning more there. It was all good, until a girl in my group mentioned the "girl that got killed last semester." I didn't know what to say or do, they were talking about my April little girl... it was so hard to listen to that, to react to that, to even speak after that happened. I started saying something but couldn't continue. I couldn't. I tried to keep going and nothing came out.... Like I had forgotten how to talk or how to breathe. I never know what to say. It's hard to think she's gone. I always think of her, I can't help it. Everywhere I go there's something, someone, or even the place that reminds me. Last night after class I wasn't ok. I drove by the apartment. And I remember last time we went out and how we talked almost all night. I was gonna stay at her place that night but I decided to go home cause "it was only 4 am." I hugged her that night and told her that I was so glad we got to talk so much. That night she had told me all about D.C. and her internship and her new friends, and all the jokes about Hope watermelons... We were supposed to go to a bday party at 7 but I was late... she was late as usual, so we didn't go. We stayed talking until midnight when we went to another party. She showed me her apartment and I met her roommates. I saw the pictures from D.C. and help her finish her hair (she had gotten it done at the beauty school for only $4... we were so excited that she had spent so little).

What are you supposed to do when your friend is remembered by so many for the headline on the newspaper? How do you stop wanting to call her? How do you write this so others won't tell you to go for therapy (cause that's what you do here in the U.S. when life happens)? How do you do when there are no more talks or jokes? no more study nights, no more seeing each other when running late for class, no more crazy ideas, no more picture times, no more lunch with the girls on Fridays, no more help with Spanish, no more discussion about books or the news, no more text messages, no more teaching me how to step or remembering the time I fell on my face, no more plans to visit her family again. God, please help her family. I can't even imagine.

I had other things to write about... like how I'm going to do my first mural and how I'd feel like Diego Rivera and stuff like that. I'll get to that some other time, now I have to clean up this mascara cause it's hurting my eyes...

I want to see a shooting star tonight.

Sunday, January 22, 2006

Falling in love

First week of classes of my third semester at the UA. It happened. I fell in love with art, all over again. Every time I start a new art class it happens... it's overwhelming... so amazing.

The semester's going to be great, it can feel it in the air. I like all my classes, all my professors, others in the class, the challenges, etc.

I've been painting, reading, taking pictures, writing, having fun with my friends and with little cousins... they came last night to the house. They wanted to paint, 2 of them more than the other 2.

And suddently, I've run out of words... that might be good because I have a lot of reading :D Here are some more pictures:

BBC Article

Afghan women in the driving seat

By Sean Langan, Kabul Director, BBC Four's Afghan Ladies' Driving School

"I'm a broad-minded person," declared the Afghan driving instructor. "But I was shocked by her behaviour."
"Really?" I asked. His female student had laughed. Was that really so bad?
"It was shameful and embarrassing," he replied. "Her character is no better than that of an animal."
Afghanistan has changed a lot since the collapse of the Taleban regime in 2001.
The first democratic parliamentary elections in more than 30 years were held last September. And women - in some areas - have come out from beneath the burqa after years of being held virtual prisoners in their own homes.
They are now free to walk in public, without a male relative by their side, and can work, vote and even learn how to drive.
'Satanic' drivers
Girls can go to school, at least in the big cities like Herat and Kabul, and a fragile peace now exists in a war-torn country that has known only brutality and chaos since 1979. But some things, it seems, have not really changed at all.
Mamozai's Ladies' and Gentlemen's Driving School was one of the first driving schools in Afghanistan to allow women to enrol. The Taleban thought the idea of teaching women how to drive was "satanic", but Mr Mamozai's school now has more than 200 female graduates.
Even so, the women are often told to "sit up like a man" by their male instructors as they navigate the precarious back-roads of Kabul, and to "stop driving like a woman."
But then that is hardly surprising. Most of the instructors are ex-Taleban and they do not really think women should drive at all. They certainly would not allow their own wives to drive.
And yet that was not about to stop women like Roya, a young English teacher I met on the course, or Mukadas, an Afghan aid-worker and university student, from signing up.
They had experienced far worse in their lives, and nothing, it seems, was about to stop them from taking every opportunity now open to women in Afghanistan - however begrudgingly.
Roya had fled to Pakistan with her family during the Taleban regime, but many of the women on the course had been forced to abandon their studies, or jobs, and remain at home. And all of them had a horrific tale to tell.
One of the women who was learning to drive had been beaten by the Taleban for removing her burqa in a shop, even though the only male present at the time was a twelve-year-old boy.
But despite the fear of constant harassment, beatings and even arrest, many of the women I talked to had found the courage to defy the Taleban.
Mukadas, who had been forced to give up her place at Kabul University under the Taleban, risked her life by teaching at one of Kabul's many underground girls' schools at the time.
"We had a bell," she explained. "It would ring just in time to allow us to hide the books when the Taleban came." She laughed when I asked her whether she had been scared. "Never," she replied.
Old habits
"But I became ill, because of the constant pressure, and because I was forced to remain indoors for almost four years."
Mukadas has now completed her studies at Kabul University, voted in the recent elections, and harangued any driving instructor who dared tell her how to drive.
In fairness, many of the male instructors I met took it all in their stride, and one in particular, Muhhamad Dowoud, even spoke with pride about the courage and abilities of his female students.
In many respects, the instructors were doing their best to come to terms with the new freedoms in Afghanistan. They too had suffered, but old habits die hard.
I accompanied Roya on her driving test. It appeared to be quite simple, and I was sure she would pass. All she had to do was reverse the car round a white line painted on the road.
But then I had overlooked how nothing is ever easy for women in Afghanistan. Even something so simple as taking a test.
I watched as Roya walked towards the test car. A long line of men had gathered by the side of the road. As she walked slowly along the line, her head bowed down, she heard the whispers of invective and abuse.
She refused to tell me exactly what they had said, but I later found out she had been called a "prostitute", a "bitch" and an "un-Islamic whore." She failed the test. "We have freedom now," she said. "But we are not free to enjoy it."
Afghan Ladies' Driving School is shown on Monday 23 January at 2100GMT on BBC Four.

Story from BBC NEWS:http://news.bbc.co.uk/go/pr/fr/-/2/hi/south_asia/4630966.stm
Published: 2006/01/22 15:40:10 GMT© BBC MMVI

Wednesday, January 18, 2006

"Hi, I don't think we've been introduced..."

I'm back in business... school business, that is.
And I'm happy for today's random moment of introductions *BIG SMILE*

Friday, January 13, 2006

Tuesday, January 10, 2006


Electric Black! That's what my hair color is supposed to be. But it really looks more like the black-ish, red-ish with brown and some orange highlights that I had before... but a little darker. Oh, well... that happens with the product I use. But I still like it because it doesn't damage my hair :)

I went to Dickson St. with my mom and sister to take pictures and I got some great ones... of my mom and my sister. They're so funny... they kept getting on the pictures. My sister would walk faster if she saw me looking at a spot that was a little away from her.

I got some great expressions from them.
Here they are:

And well, that was Sunday. Last night I met with a friend of mine to play (drums...) CHESS!!! How long since I had last played? Almost 4 years. I used to play with my dad and Mario, my brother. But since I moved here I didn't have anyone to play with. So last night was gooooooooooood... I have to say, I enjoyed winning -- I mean, playing!

Sunday, January 08, 2006

I can't think of a title for this post...

I went to the doctor on Friday and (dramatic silence...) I have migraines! So we knew that, right? I got some medicine and left... I'll check back in two weeks to see if the medicine worked. I took it today for the first time because I woke up with a migraine. I think it's working ok. After seeing the doctor on Friday I went for lunch with two amazing ladies... we talked about AAUW and Women's History Month at the UA. We can up with some pretty neat things to do!

We went to a restaurant on Dickson St and while I was driving back I took some pictures. I'm going back again to take some DECENT pictures.

I have things to do. So I better go now. Plus my head is still aching a little. Plus I want to paint some more and color my hair :) with Loreal's Color Pulse Electric Black!!! :P

Friday, January 06, 2006

A poem I wrote

Sit still.
Let your mind
fly through the sky
and come back
colored by the
pinks and violets
and oranges
and the gentle yellow
and golden
that reign the sky
at about 5:34 pm
of a Monday
in December.

Let your smile explain your thoughts.
Let the wind
expand your wings
and let your heart
bit a bit faster.

Feel this life.

Fill this life
with every flavor you can try
with every language you can listen to
and try to understand
with every mountain you can climb
with every sunset you can watch
with every hug you can receive
and every kiss you can steal.

Every minute
goes by faster
as our time runs out.
This hour of ours
has left us wishing
for one more second
one more kiss
one more smile.

Jan. 5, 2006

Thursday, January 05, 2006

A window to my libertad

I was at work and I was feeling a little tired so I took a break and went outside. When I opened the door at the back of the building I felt the cool air hit my face. It took a minute for it to get inside me and hit my lungs... it was nice and refreshing. And it was there when it came to me: I'm no good for work. I've been working full-time during the break and I think it's no coincidence that I've been getting more headaches and I get tired and cranky easily. I'm just no good to stay inside a building all day long sharing the air (warm air) with many many people there... I need to be able to come and go all the time. And maybe this nature of mine is the reason I laughed out laud last time someone at work asked me if I would start full time there when I graduate.

I don't want to go hiking everyday... but I don't want to trap myself in an office (specially if it doesn't have any windows that I can open -- I say that cause I've noticed that people don't usually open their windows here in AR).

Wednesday, January 04, 2006

Motrin won't do it

So I've made a couple of medical appointments for the next couple of weeks. On Friday I'm going to see about my headaches. I've been having headaches... killer headaches lately. So I'll go see if they say something different than "uuuuuhhhhhhhh.... looks like you have migraine."

I start school in a couple of weeks. I'm looking forward to a great semester. Things will look up now. And so will my grades. Once again I undetermined to get a 4.0 GPA. Many great things to look forward to. What most excites me is my work with AAUW (www.aauw.org) and with the Volunteer Action Center.

Now, the "break" has been nice. I've started a couple of paintings. I've FINALLY finish my room (except for all the walls... I have one left to put stuff up). I have organized some of my thoughts... which has lead to more thoughts... that's a never-ending business, right?! I've also taken a bunch of pictures and spent time with my family. Nice.

Nice... life's nice. Unfair and all, but nice.