Tracing a tracing today. Such an absorbing process. Once the tracing is finished, I will cut out all the sections filled in blue and attach them to linen. I’ll then cut out the sections in linen.

Today, I have been listening to a song called Ma Lkit by Tunisian singer songwriter Emel Mathlouthi.

It is heartbreaking that the ceasefire was broken this morning, and already 60 civilians are reported to have been killed in Gaza.

This song makes me think about the individual lives lost in this conflict. The loss of each life is a loss to the whole world. It is appalling that civilians are being killed. The ceasefire must be reinstated.

Lyrics sourced from lyricstranslate.com

Ma Lkit/ I didn’t find

I didn’t find a place to walk on with my eyes closed
I didn’t find one friend who knows what to tell me
I didn’t find a sea wave , wave that sails me far away

I didn’t find talk to say my unsure opinion
I didn’t find something to explain, explain the meaning of what is happening
I didn’t find a melody that breaks, breaks human’s anger
I didn’t find my people
I didn’t find my family
I didn’t find rest
I didn’t find happiness
I didn’t find my way

I didn’t find a burning star that would set my feeling on fire

I didn’t find talk to express my unsure opinion
I didn’t find something to explain, explain the meaning of what is happening
I didn’t find a melody that breaks, breaks human’s anger
I didn’t find my people
I didn’t find my family
I didn’t find rest
I didn’t find happiness
I didn’t find my way

Here are the opening lines in Arabic

ما لقيت بلاصا نمشي نغمض فيها عينايا
ما لقيت صاحب و احد يعرف ما يرد علي
ما لقيت مو جة تبحر ، تبحر بي لبعيد

ما لقيت كلام نقو لو ا نعبر به راني حاير
ما لقيت حاخة تفسر ، تفسر معنى إلي صاير
ما لقيت لحن يكسر ، يكسر حقد الإنسان
ما لقيت ناسي
ما لقيت أهلي
ما لقيت راحة
ما لقيت فرحة
ما لقيت طر يقي ، ما لقيت ثنيتي

The translator comments on the difficulty of translating feelings. I’m not an Arabic speaker, but I find the words full of feeling and reading the translated lyrics whilst listening to the music stirs up deep emotions of sadness and frustration in me. As I return to my drawing, I am reminded of Philip Guston’s reflections during the Vietnam War in 1965:

“What kind of man am I sitting at home, reading magazines, going into a frustrated fury about everything – and then going into my studio to adjust a red to a blue?” Philip Guston