The Nikon has been lying on the dresser for close to two weeks now, gathering dust and snickering. “Pick me up and go…just go, I know you want to”. Its heavy presence nudged at my subconscious every single time I passed it by. Eventually I caved in hoping that it will help to fill the dark hollows. Somewhere deep down something was nudging and scratching with sharp little claws, insisting to be let out. Was that a muse? Have the events of this preposterous month left me drained and in dire need of inspiration? Of course they have and I am a hopeless inspiration junky.
An SOS message went out to the soul sister urging to organize a photo session. “You will lose me to the corporate world FOR-EVA” I said. I needed an outlet. Save me.
She has done so much more than simply let me take yet another profile picture for her. “We are going on a photography trip on Friday, come with us” she cheerfully exclaimed. Sometimes I just have to accept that she knows what is best for me. That is how we ended up in Rustaq, amidst the crowded touristic hot-spots and the peaceful silence the landmarks of that magnitude always seem to carry. I was feeding off all the details; the broken vases, the untamed flowers and even the cracks in the walls. A typical Omani fort, so alike the many others I have already seen, saved me that day.
I don’t think of myself as a photographer and I wouldn’t say I am particularly good at it. But I know that when I take those pictures I ease up. With every click of the camera and every captured image- I feel lighter. It feels like I was holding my breath for a while and I can finally breathe out. Breath. So what if we drove for 2 hours to take pictures of yet another fort. And it doesn’t matter that I almost slipped on a river bank and almost fell head first on a concrete corner. Please also disregard the weight of the camera and the hot day. The outcome is tremendously rewarding.

I will let you be the judge: