Film and stories has been a part of us since the beginning of time. We use stories to reflect societies and remember who we are.
In my YouTube Channel I mix up my Art and my Voice. I speak my soul and share my heart.
Writing heals my soul
Life is peaceful if you accept it the way it comes,
if you stop trying to control it.
Sometimes, you don’t understand it;
and that’s ok.
Sometimes, you feel defeated;
and that’s normal.
Life was never meant to be a clear, predictable path;
and that’s the beauty of it.
The unpredictable beauties, mysteries, pain, surprises, challenges, experiences, people, nature.
Everything that makes your path unique in the vast land of life.
It was such a sunny day—a perfect day to go to the beach or the river, but instead, I was here. It was dusty, dirty, and smelled horrible. I had so much work to do. As I sat down and looked around, I noticed a mouse coming out of the floor. I asked myself, Why the hell am I doing this? I could be relaxing with my husband on the beach, soaking up the sun.
But then, when I’ve done all my effort and a little Algerian girl came up to me, crying because she felt my art. In that moment, I knew why I was doing this.
I had a bird that was truly beautiful. With a small, cute face, blue and green wings, and a long yellow tail tip, he was my favorite. I named him Joseph. Every morning, he would come to my door and sing to me. I would respond by whistling, and he seemed to enjoy it because he always chirped back. Sometimes, his singing was intense, filled with loud melodies and energetic body movements. At times, I sensed he was upset with me, while other times, he appeared happy to see me. Regardless, he was always there, and I cherished him dearly.
One day, I had to leave for a trip that would last three weeks. The thought of leaving my bird behind saddened me. What if he didn’t return when I did? I was so attached to him that if I could, I would have taken him with me.
Upon returning from my trip, I eagerly checked for him the next morning, but Joseph was nowhere to be found. I whistled and called out to him, but received no response. Even the tree branch where he used to perch was empty. Disheartened, I returned home and resumed my daily routine. In the days that followed, I continued to wait for him, but he never returned.
Though I may never see him again, he will always remain a part of my story. He wasn’t just my bird; he was a bird that touched my soul. He will forever reside in my heart, and we will both continue on our paths, perhaps crossing each other’s once more someday.
