Waska Tatay by Thomas Rousset & Raphaël Verona Waska Tatay by Thomas Rousset & Raphaël Verona Waska Tatay by Thomas Rousset & Raphaël Verona Waska Tatay by Thomas Rousset & Raphaël Verona Waska Tatay by Thomas Rousset & Raphaël Verona Waska Tatay by Thomas Rousset & Raphaël Verona Waska Tatay by Thomas Rousset & Raphaël Verona Waska Tatay by Thomas Rousset & Raphaël Verona

"Curiously enough, the only thing that went through the mind of the bowl of petunias as it fell was Oh no, not again. Many people have speculated that if we knew exactly why the bowl of petunias had thought that we would know a lot more about the nature of the Universe than we do now."

From Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy

Exobotanica by Azuma Makoto

By Papas, ‘The Sunday Times’, March 10, 1963

By Papas, ‘The Sunday Times’, March 10, 1963

By Illingworth, ‘Punch’, November 14, 1956

By Le Pelley, ‘The Christian Science Monitor’, September 19, 1977

In 10 or perhaps 15 years, most if not all of these former Konyak headhunters and their wives will be dead. Their faded tattoo adorned faces will be buried beneath Christian headstones in hilltop villages in the remote Mon district of Nagaland in Northeast India. With their demise, the living memories of their unique cultural existence will disappear for eternity. These elderly men and women have lived through a time when tribal warfare still resolved certain territorial conflicts. Their backs, torsos and facial tattoos bear witness to mortal combat and the customary headhunting. They were born into and inherited a strong tribal identity, which extended to the physical boundaries of their lands. They will die having intermittent access to limited aspects of modernity, and having partially embraced a Baptist based Christianity. “ Aidan McGloinIn February 2013, I traveled across Rajasthan with a portable photo studio and a medium format digital camera. The photo sessions were organized like film shoots: form a team and find an assistant, scout for locations and settings, hold a casting session for models and only shoot when the light is right. After this initial, rather successful first experiment, I organized a second trip with my ethnographer friend Aidan McGloin.

Jean-Christian Cottu In 10 or perhaps 15 years, most if not all of these former Konyak headhunters and their wives will be dead. Their faded tattoo adorned faces will be buried beneath Christian headstones in hilltop villages in the remote Mon district of Nagaland in Northeast India. With their demise, the living memories of their unique cultural existence will disappear for eternity. These elderly men and women have lived through a time when tribal warfare still resolved certain territorial conflicts. Their backs, torsos and facial tattoos bear witness to mortal combat and the customary headhunting. They were born into and inherited a strong tribal identity, which extended to the physical boundaries of their lands. They will die having intermittent access to limited aspects of modernity, and having partially embraced a Baptist based Christianity. “ Aidan McGloinIn February 2013, I traveled across Rajasthan with a portable photo studio and a medium format digital camera. The photo sessions were organized like film shoots: form a team and find an assistant, scout for locations and settings, hold a casting session for models and only shoot when the light is right. After this initial, rather successful first experiment, I organized a second trip with my ethnographer friend Aidan McGloin.

Jean-Christian Cottu In 10 or perhaps 15 years, most if not all of these former Konyak headhunters and their wives will be dead. Their faded tattoo adorned faces will be buried beneath Christian headstones in hilltop villages in the remote Mon district of Nagaland in Northeast India. With their demise, the living memories of their unique cultural existence will disappear for eternity. These elderly men and women have lived through a time when tribal warfare still resolved certain territorial conflicts. Their backs, torsos and facial tattoos bear witness to mortal combat and the customary headhunting. They were born into and inherited a strong tribal identity, which extended to the physical boundaries of their lands. They will die having intermittent access to limited aspects of modernity, and having partially embraced a Baptist based Christianity. “ Aidan McGloinIn February 2013, I traveled across Rajasthan with a portable photo studio and a medium format digital camera. The photo sessions were organized like film shoots: form a team and find an assistant, scout for locations and settings, hold a casting session for models and only shoot when the light is right. After this initial, rather successful first experiment, I organized a second trip with my ethnographer friend Aidan McGloin.

Jean-Christian Cottu In 10 or perhaps 15 years, most if not all of these former Konyak headhunters and their wives will be dead. Their faded tattoo adorned faces will be buried beneath Christian headstones in hilltop villages in the remote Mon district of Nagaland in Northeast India. With their demise, the living memories of their unique cultural existence will disappear for eternity. These elderly men and women have lived through a time when tribal warfare still resolved certain territorial conflicts. Their backs, torsos and facial tattoos bear witness to mortal combat and the customary headhunting. They were born into and inherited a strong tribal identity, which extended to the physical boundaries of their lands. They will die having intermittent access to limited aspects of modernity, and having partially embraced a Baptist based Christianity. “ Aidan McGloinIn February 2013, I traveled across Rajasthan with a portable photo studio and a medium format digital camera. The photo sessions were organized like film shoots: form a team and find an assistant, scout for locations and settings, hold a casting session for models and only shoot when the light is right. After this initial, rather successful first experiment, I organized a second trip with my ethnographer friend Aidan McGloin.

Jean-Christian Cottu In 10 or perhaps 15 years, most if not all of these former Konyak headhunters and their wives will be dead. Their faded tattoo adorned faces will be buried beneath Christian headstones in hilltop villages in the remote Mon district of Nagaland in Northeast India. With their demise, the living memories of their unique cultural existence will disappear for eternity. These elderly men and women have lived through a time when tribal warfare still resolved certain territorial conflicts. Their backs, torsos and facial tattoos bear witness to mortal combat and the customary headhunting. They were born into and inherited a strong tribal identity, which extended to the physical boundaries of their lands. They will die having intermittent access to limited aspects of modernity, and having partially embraced a Baptist based Christianity. “ Aidan McGloinIn February 2013, I traveled across Rajasthan with a portable photo studio and a medium format digital camera. The photo sessions were organized like film shoots: form a team and find an assistant, scout for locations and settings, hold a casting session for models and only shoot when the light is right. After this initial, rather successful first experiment, I organized a second trip with my ethnographer friend Aidan McGloin.

Jean-Christian Cottu

In 10 or perhaps 15 years, most if not all of these former Konyak headhunters and their wives will be dead. Their faded tattoo adorned faces will be buried beneath Christian headstones in hilltop villages in the remote Mon district of Nagaland in Northeast India. With their demise, the living memories of their unique cultural existence will disappear for eternity. These elderly men and women have lived through a time when tribal warfare still resolved certain territorial conflicts. Their backs, torsos and facial tattoos bear witness to mortal combat and the customary headhunting. They were born into and inherited a strong tribal identity, which extended to the physical boundaries of their lands. They will die having intermittent access to limited aspects of modernity, and having partially embraced a Baptist based Christianity. “ Aidan McGloin

In February 2013, I traveled across Rajasthan with a portable photo studio and a medium format digital camera. The photo sessions were organized like film shoots: form a team and find an assistant, scout for locations and settings, hold a casting session for models and only shoot when the light is right. After this initial, rather successful first experiment, I organized a second trip with my ethnographer friend Aidan McGloin.

Jean-Christian Cottu

"As one of the earth’s oldest continuous urban cities gets erased from the cultural memory of the volatile Levant in the present time (2012-1013), these recordings, captured just before the continuous demolition of Aleppo, are an ominous statement from one of its most sacred and ancient vocal traditions."
(Hisham Mayet-Sublime Frequencies)

Ancient Sufi Invocations and Forgotten Songs from Aleppo is a beautiful album of sacred chanting and haunting melodies-a collection of ULTRA rare SUFI recordings captured in SYRIA months before civil war erupted. It was recorded by Jason Hamacher in the courtyard of a 500-year-old-house in Aleppo, one of the world’s oldest cities. In 2009 in Aleppo, Syria, A small group of Sufi musicians band together to preserve the nearly forgotten melodies, songs, and poems unique to the ancient city. In 2010 Jason Hamacher was in Aleppo to document the ancient prayers, hallowed rituals, and sacred spaces of Syria’s religious minorities. Hamacher heard about a secretive group of Sufi musicians that practiced “the old traditions.” Intrigued by the mysterious description, Hamacher sought an introduction to the group through a mutual friend & became the first Westerner to hear NAWA preform. NAWA performed in public a handful of times before Syria erupted into civil war. The group’s displaced members are now scattered throughout Europe and the Middle East.

Lisa Anne Auerbach Lisa Anne Auerbach
“المدن رائحة: عكا رائحة اليود البحري والبهارات. حيفا رائحة الصنوبر والشراشف المجعلكة. موسكو رائحة الفودكا على الثلج. القاهرة رائحة المانجو والزنجبيل. بيروت رائحة الشمس والبحر والدخان والليمون. باريس رائحة الخبز الطازج والأجبان ومشتقات الفتنة. دمشق رائحة الياسمين والفواكة المجففة. تونس رائحة مسك الليل والملح. الرباط رائحة الحناء والبخور والعسل. وكل مدينة لا تُعرفُ من رائحتها لا يُعوَّل على ذكراها. وللمنافي رائحة مشتركة هي رائحة الحنين إلى ما عداها… رائحة تتذكر رائحة أخرى. رائحة متقطعة الأنفاس، عاطفيّة تقودك كخارطة سياحية كثيرة الاستعمال إلى رائحة المكان الأول. الرائحة ذاكرةٌ وغروب شمس. والغروب هنا توبيخ الجمال للغريب”
"Cities are smells: Acre is the smell of iodine and spices. Haifa is the smell of pine and wrinkled sheets. Moscow is the smell of vodka on ice. Cairo is the smell of mango and ginger. Beirut is the smell of the sun, sea, smoke, and lemons. Paris is the smell of fresh bread, cheese, and derivations of enchantment. Damascus is the smell of jasmine and dried fruit. Tunis is the smell of night musk and salt. Rabat is the smell of henna, incense and honey. A city that cannot be known by its smell is unreliable. Exiles have a shared smell: the smell of longing for something else; a smell that remembers another smell. A painting, nostalgic that guides you, like a worn tourist map, to the smell of the original place. A smell is a memory and a setting sun. Sunset, here, is beauty rebuking the stranger. But to love the sunset is not, as they say, one of the attributes of exile.” - Mahmoud Darwish, In the presence of Absence (via darksilenceinsuburbia)

(via darksilenceinsuburbia)

UN trucks full of food and medicine are just across the border from millions of Syrians that need them. The UN is divided over a legal technicality on whether to let the trucks in or not — but we can tip the balance.

Tell the UN to drive.

The UN is waiting for the Syrian regime’s written permission to enter — permission that could never come. But because the Syrian authorities are arbitrarily denying access, top legal minds and governments are saying that the UN doesn’t need to wait for their consent. It’s now up to five people to say go: the heads of Unicef, UNHCR, the World Food Programme, OCHA and WHO.

Let’s call on them to act — more than 3 million people could be reached by these UN aid trucks. These agency heads won’t be used to this kind of public pressure — every signature could strengthen the hand of those in the UN who want to cross the borders now. Sign the petition and let them know it’s time: send the trucks into Syria!

Click now to tell Unicef, UNHCR, WFP, OCHA and WHO chiefs that it’s time to drive.

The UN Security Council voted in February to demand that aid trucks be allowed to cross borders into Syria. Even one of the Syrian regime’s closest allies, Russia, voted for the resolution. But the Syrian authorities have yet to comply — instead, they’ve been using starvation as a weapon of war, making sure that 92% of all UN WFP aid goes only into the areas they control.

Two months since the resolution, the Syrian regime’s ‘arbitrary denial’ of access means the UN no longer has to wait for their consent to cross.

Tell UN agency chiefs that it’s time to act.

The UN isn’t divided over safety — every individual operation should always be assessed to make sure UN staff are protected. The issue being debated is whether they can cross the border at all.

Driving trucks across borders is only the beginning. Thousands are being systematically starved under government sieges in places like Yarmouk and the Old City of Homs. If the UN acts now, their moral authority will help shed light on what’s at stake and up the international pressure on the Syrian regime to stop using hunger as a weapon of war.