Jack > Recent Status Updates

“Word gets around— you don't know. People hear things, servants, they do, like I did. Have you no fear of the law?”
Risley sighed. “I fear living in fear. That's not living at all.”

You're stepping on sacred ground. You're stepping on what is left of the largest necropolis of the East. You're stepping on the place where the Jews of Thessaloniki were buried for centuries. Strong spirits and kind souls of the most vibrant community of the Mediterranean have found their final rest.

You're stepping on sacred ground.

…

.

Elias Levy, the family doctor, who had taught her the procedure, did not openly endorse the therapy, but since he was also the only person aware of the true motives behind her sudden concern for the stomach, his criticism was less forthright. He knew that the only answer one could give to the question of how to cure a non-existent disease was to let the patient decide freely.

I didn't know much about them, except that Mr. Murata worked at the Japanese embassy. Everyone thought he was a spy, but I couldn't fathom why Japan or anyone would send a spy to Lebanon. What Lebanese secret would any country want, a hummus recipe?

… there was something about his perspective, his tone, his author photo, his last name, something about the knowledge that he too had been displaced, he too had started in one country, and lost another country, or rather: he too had a country of his dreams that he on some level knew he would never be able to revisit because it only existed in the past (or maybe not even in the past).

"The urge to destroy is also a creative act."
-Bakunin the Anarchist
(and every one of my female friends)

Two pairs of shorts don’t make an outfit, if you know what I mean.

"Translation, any act of translation-from one language to another, from a feeling to its expression— inevitably changes the sense. Even a faithful interpretation," he claimed, "loses a measure of meaning, sheds it, very much as when a cliff is corroded by rough weather. This," he went on to say, "inserts, whether involuntarily or not, new implications."

Sometimes we photographers have to rearrange reality to make the invisible apparent. I know of no artist who does not remake the world they see.

"You have a choice, Amar," Hadia had advised him years ago. "All of us are in this same boat, but you are the only one who chooses to thrash about, making unnecessary waves. You can be still. You can go with the flow. That way you'll save energy to swim when you need to.

“I thought gay guys thrived in the bathhouse. That's like your home base. It's the gay equivalent of a meet cute at Trader Joe's."

"First of all, the gay equivalent of a meet cute at Trader Joe's is a meet cute at Trader Joe's. It's the gayest of the major chain groceries”

Anything you don't eat? I'm kidding, you don't have a choice.

Home is where your absence is felt, the echo of your voice kept alive, no matter how long you have been away or how far you may have strayed, a place that still beats with the pulse of your heart.

Clock-time, however punctual it may purport to be, is distorted and deceptive. It runs under the illusion that everything is moving steadily forward, and the future, therefore, will always be better than the past. Story-time understands the fragility of peace, the fickleness of circumstances, the dangers lurking in the night but also appreciates small acts of kindness. That is why minorities do not live in clock-time

Of the seven days, Wednesdays are the most propitious. That is when Grandma prepares her balms, ointments and tinctures, because, as everyone knows, Melek Tawûs descended on this venerated day, making it the most auspicious time to do good. If you have a hidden wish, something too intimate to share, you may just as well whisper it to a flowing stream, preferably on a Wednesday. The current will take care of it.

"I know you don't believe me, Narin, but a story is a flute through which truth breathes. And these are your family stories."

"Hatred is a poison served in three cups. The first is when people despise those they desire-because they want to have them in their possession. It's all out of hubris! The second is when people loathe those they do not understand. It's all out of fear! Then there is the third kind—when people hate those they have hurt."
"But why?"
"Because the tree remembers what the axe forgets."

In their wedding vows so many years earlier, Lenny had quoted Rilke: "I hold this to be the highest task of a bond between two people: that each should stand guard over the solitude of the other."

Human emotion is beyond comprehension, smooth and uninterrupted, like an orb made of blown glass.

What happens to you doesn't belong to you, only half concerns you. It's not yours. Not yours only.
— CLAUDIA RANKINE