Archive for December, 2012

Jeanne D'Arc

God is not at the tip of your tongue, he is also not in the bullet fired from your gun.

The reflection of his spirit does not float over the blade of your bloodied sword, he is also not in in the black enameled baton with which you beat the horde.

Your God is my God yet you turn him against me and everyone else with the words coming out of your sordid treacherous mouth.

Slice open your granite eyelids and see the spiritus sanctus before you bring down the house like the blind faltering Samson you are; betrayed by a scheming Delilah from afar.

Kafir you dare call me, and my brothers and sisters and everyone else Kofar. Shame on thee and on your promised eternity!

“Fie … fie!” cherubs at the foot of the throne wept and wept …


It has been a while since I wrote a poem; or what is deemed a poem. The first few lines came to my head 20 minutes ago and the rest just flowed.

I will probably expand this into a blog post that expresses my dismay over what is happening in the Middle East. I am deeply saddened that there are people out there, who actually dare outlaw harmony and love among the followers of God/Allah; the very same followers, from all religions, with whom I share bread, salt and oil on a daily basis.

Now back to the drawing board …

Illustration by Sardine a.k.a Mike V. Derderian

About illustration:

Been working on a action styled Mae West poster when I started drawing other stuff. The above illustration is one.

I am trying to limit myself to black and white lines since that will be the feel of some comics I am supposed to start working on once I get my engine running, especially my The Dark Side of the Spoon  that run for 20 issues in U Men magazine.

The poster tagline is taken from Carl Theodor Dreyer’s 1928 La Passion de Jeanne d’Arc.

Still haven’t drawn my Christmas greeting yet. On a personal level life is good. On an artistic level it is rather dark; I am trying to work on different themes with different styles and overall improve my work as an illustrator.

Thank you all for your wonderful Christmas wishes :-}) 


Last night, December 15, 2012, was the final day of the Karama Film Festival. I did not attend any of the film screenings. I stopped attending cultural activities around Amman a year and a half ago. I guess not wanting to see anyone is one reason; the other reason is work related: I’d rather work on a t-shirt design, an illustration for a comic book character or write a piece of literature.

Some people are just a waste of time and sincere emotions!

So this is what I have been doing lately: I would go to an exhibition hall prior to opening and enjoy going through the exhibited works piece by piece as I did with the exhibition Karama, Where To? that was held part of the festival’s week long activities.

If I was still writing for The Star Weekly I wouldn’t have dared write about this impressive exhibition as I am part of it. However, since this is a blog post I am afraid to say that I forgot my journalistic objectivity in the pocket of my other coat.

What I find most fascinating is how many bloggers haven’t written or mentioned the holding of this exhibition. I guess writing about the amazing works of young Arab artists, graphic designers and comic artists is not as self-gratifying as writing a piece about boycotting Israel and having it spread through the very same self absorbed social grapevine.

This exhibition, that held the works of artists like  Amer Amin / Amer Shomali / Ammar Abo Bakr / Amr Fahed / Abd Alraheem Arjan / Asma Ghanem / Diala Brisly / Fares Cachoux / Hilda Hiary / Jawad Hamdan / Khaled Jarrar / Majd Abdelhamid / Maya Terro / Marwan Shahin / Mohammed Abu Elnaga / Mohammed Abu Afefa / Mohammed Joha / Mohammad Omran / Monther Jawabreh / Mostafa Jarrad / Nidaa Badwan / Rima Al Mozayen / Shadi Al Zaqzouq / Tarzan & Arab / Wisam Al Jaziri/ Yara Al Najim and myself, was about voicing our visual thoughts about Arab Spring and where we think the Middle East is heading.

For me personally I see this period more of an Arab winter and summer is still far ahead. The call for this exhibition was a way of standing up to bullshit through our work, be it written, drawn or performed!

This is what many of the participating artists did; they called bullshit by its name and I am quite proud to have my works, the four pieces that I contributed, Nippon Vol. 1 & Vol. 2, Gaza Dolls and Propaganda, hanging next to the works of such amazing artists.

This was the message that I discussed with Rashid Abdelhamid, Alhoush founder, and Jasmine Melvin-Koushki, a curator at Alhoush, who co-organized this exhibition with Miss Sawsan Darwazeh (The Karama Film Festival).

Anyway I hope you enjoy the snippets that I took of the exhibited works that you can find in full by clicking on Alhoush’s Karama, Where To? Facebook folder.

Please note: Each piece is followed by the name of its artist.




By Mohammad Omran



By Marwan Shahin



By Amer K Amin



By Amer Shomali


By Jawad Hamdan




By Maya Terro



By Shadi Al Zaqzouq


By Mohammad Abu Afefa


By Yara Al Nejem



By Diala Brisly


By Majed Abdelhamid


By Mohammed Abu Elnaga


By Amro Fahed


By Ammer Abo Bakr


By Monther Jawabreh


By Wissam Al Jazairy


By Rima Al Mozayen


By Nida Badwan


By Tarazan and Arab



By Moahmmad Haja


By Yara Al Najem


By Asma Ghanem




On a final note thank you Al Housh and The Karama Film Festival for using my illustration for the exhibition poster ;-})

All photographs were taken by Mike V. Derderian save for the in which he is shown and that one was taken by Nesrin Mousa Derderian :-})


مات نابليون الثالث ولكنه لم يمت في حضن جوزفين الدافئ وفي فراش مصنوع من الريش والحرير والقماش الدمشقي. مات تحت قبة السماء المزركشة بالنجوم وفي احضان عمان، تلك الحبيبة القاسية. مات البشري الذي تبختر في شوارع البلد الافعوانية مثل القط صاحب الجزمة. مات! هل حقا مات أم هو راقد في البشير ينتظر شلة من اصحابه الصعاليك وفتيات الليل ليجعلوا منه الرجل الذي مات مرتين! فجأة وجدت نفسي في ستديو فوتو برامونت جالسا، على مقعد مستدير بلا اذرع أو ظهر، أحملق في الامواج البشرية، التي تتكسر على ارصفة الشارع، من وراء زجاج باب ألمنيوم. تصدح اصوات الاجراس المعلقة على الباب ويدخل رجلا مرتديا بزة سوداء وجزمة جلدية قررت أن لا تصل لخصره النحيل. ضفائر سميكة تصل لكتفيه اتحدت مع لحيته الكثة التي لم تغطي ملامح وجهه الودود والذي تشقق جلده بسبب قبلات الشمس الحارة. “مرحبا! كيف حالك اليوم يا أبو مايك؟ كيف حالك يا صغير؟” رفضت الكلمات أن تخرج من فمي الذي قرر أن يتموضع على شكل ابتسامة. سرعان ما جلس هذا الرجل الذي أراه لأول مرة في حياتي، والذي كان حاملا جريدة تحت إبطه، على الكرسي المواجه لكرسي والدي. بعد لحظات من حديث لا اتذكره، لأنني كنت مازلت مدهوشا بمنظره الساحر، قرر هذا الشيخ العجيب النهوض من على الكرسي. “حسنا! إلى اللقاء!” بعد أن القى التحية على والدي وعلي اختفي بين الامواج البشرية. سألت والدي، “من هذا الرجل؟” لم يقل شيئا سوى، “صديق!” مرت السنين وها قد مات هذا الصديق الذي رأيته في محل تصوير والدي عدة مرات وبات ذكرى في عقل كاتب شاب يتجول بين سنين عمره، متنقلا ما بين الماضي والحاضر بإتجاه مستقبله مع  احبائه. فليرقد جسدك بسلام يا نابليون الثالث لأن روحك من الآن فصاعدا ستعيش مع الكلمات. يتبع

ملاحظة: عندي عدة مدونات محبوسة في رأسي ولكن أغلبها ذات طابع هجومي على النخبوية والعمل في عمان. ساشاركها فيما بعد وحتى ذلك الحين شكرا لكل متابعي هذه المدونة التي يكتبها شخص يحب
عمان، الأردن ولكنه يكره نخبويتها

وبالعنجليزي الامبريالي الاستعماري حسب قولة واحد عاهة رأسه لسه عم بيكبر في الأردن

I was having an evening tea with the Mrs. and my parents. Dad and I started talking about the Down Town Napoleon, who used to pass by his photography studio Photo Paramount.

I don’t know why I immediately saw the above visual.

I always loved the Johnnie Walker logo especially the full bodied one and Napoleon, who played the madman quite well was dressed in the same manner.

Here is a picture of Napoleon:

From one madman to another …