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La palabra "alhambra" viene del árabe الْحَمْرَاء (al-ḥamrāˀ = 'la roja'), pues sus muros están construidos con argamasa de color rojo.
La Alhambra a finales del siglo XIX y comienzos del XX era un desastre. No se que mano divina dio poder a un arquitecto, Leopoldo Torres Balbás, que hasta que lo destituyeron puso las bases de lo que hoy es uno de los edificios mas bonitos del mundo. Por dentro , por fuera y por su situacion en la colina de Sabika.
Leopoldo Torres Balbás ocupó el puesto de arquitecto restaurador de la Alhambra desde su toma de posesión en abril de 1923 hasta su relevo en 1936. Tuvo seguidores y detractores , pero su obra quedó.
El otro dia poco antes o despues tuve la suerte de que el sol estaba de mi parte y sacó el color rojo-carmin de sus muros y se ve . creo yo , como la ideó su contructor. Tecnicamente, la foto roja, está un poco trepidada en el fondo, en las almenas... pero yo la veo genial. Esa foto no la publicaré . Se podrá ver en la Expo que haré en Córdoba a finales de Abril.
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The word "alhambra" comes from the Arabic الْحَمْرَاء (al-ḥamrāˀ = 'the red one'), since its walls are built with red mortar.
The Alhambra at the end of the 19th century and beginning of the 20th century was a disaster. I don't know what divine hand gave power to an architect, Leopoldo Torres Balbás, who until he was dismissed, laid the foundations of what is today one of the most beautiful buildings in the world. Inside, outside and because of its location on the hill.
Leopoldo Torres Balbás held the position of restoring architect of the Alhambra from his inauguration in April 1923 until his replacement in 1936. He had followers and detractors, but his work remained.
The other day shortly before or after I was lucky that the sun was on my side and brought out the carmine-red color of its walls and you can see it. I believe, as its builder devised it. Technically, the red photo is a little shaky in the background, on the battlements... but I see it as great. I will not publish that photo. It can be seen at the Expo that I will do in Córdoba at the end of April.
a man stood in the rain. or perhaps the rain stood around him. the world inside the glass was bright and loud, a celebration of orange and blue. but he remained on the outside, a shadow defined by the light he was not a part of. the umbrella was a small, black sky of his own, a temporary border against the world. and for a moment, everything was still.
C R E D I T S
▷ Dress - United Color - Jackie @ Kustom 9
▷ Necklaces - Supernatural - Sabrina @ Mainstore
▷ Hair - Doux - Ambrosio @ Tres Chic
▷ Pose - :LW: BENTO Poses - World inside @ Tres Chic
▷ Long Cig Holder - .04 [ kunst ] - Long Cig Holder
Taken @ Corruption
Myths, Legends and Rock Formations:
Due to the strange rock formations, and some formations on a wall in the form of writing or signs, Pedra da Gávea carries along with its name many legends and myths. Among the main myths and legends, one of them involves characters engraved in stone and the hypothesis of the Phoenician sphinx. Another theory that some raise about Pedra Gavea is that there is a great portal to Agartha.
By observing the stone well, several associations can be made and below are some of the most common ones.
The Giant's Head or Emperor's Head:
Looking at Pedra da Gávea, seen from Pedra Bonita or from the Canoas road that goes around Pedra Bonita, as well as from the Hang Gliding and Paragliding ramp that is almost at the top of Pedra Bonita, you can see the head of a large sculpted giant in stone. Whether an accidental work of nature or not, the resemblance is very great and it really does look like a sculpture.
As to this resemblance, whatever the cause of such formation, not even the most skeptical of men can deny.
Enigmatic Inscriptions:
At the top of the Rock, next to the Head on the left, beginning of the video, there are some formations and erosions that look like inscriptions or what look like letters carved in the stone. With the naked eye it is not always possible to see, but looking at enlarged photos taken with telephoto lenses that provide better details at long distances, one can see what appear to be inscriptions (words engraved in stone) of some primitive alphabet.
What most intrigues many observers of Pedra da Gávea is not exactly the shape of a "human head" at one end, nor the shapes of "portals" that may be random formations, made over the years, by erosion, a natural phenomenon.
Some observers are not satisfied with admitting that the marks in the form of writing are a mere chance of nature. This fact suggests a curious and creative hypothesis to try to explain the enigma of the writings on the stone.
First Findings About Engraved Characters:
The shapes of the rock, which bear resemblance to a human face, drew attention for a long time, as well as the characters that were also first objects of study since the time of Dom João VI's stay in Brazil.
Friar Custódio, a religious specialist in epigraphy, that is, studies of stone engravings, made a report about the inscriptions on Pedra da Gávea, and concluded that they were made at the time of the discovery of Brazil, and this report was delivered to Dom João VI .
In 1839, the Brazilian Historical and Geographical Institute decided to analyze the subject, and organized an expedition for this purpose. Historians J. Cunha Barbosa, Manoel de Araújo Porto Alegre and imperial chaplain J. Rodrigues Monteiro participated.
The report that followed, after the expedition and subsequent analyses, recognized Phoenician characters in the inscriptions, appearing to have been made in antiquity, and being deteriorated by time. However, the report also saw the inscriptions as a product of erosion, which ultimately led to the hypothesis that the characters were made by nature to prevail.
However, in 1928, a new hypothesis appeared that attributed the engravings of characters in Pedra da Gávea to the Phoenicians.
The last translation made below shows the sequence of these studies.
Jeth-Baal or Yet-Baal, is a name that refers to two twin brothers, older sons of Badezir.
And finally, what does this mean? Looking back at history, there existed in the year 856 BC, a Phoenician King named Badezir, who according to the first translation replaced and succeeded King Jethbaal, his father, on the royal throne of Tyro. But according to the second translation, Badezir was the father of the Jeth-Baal brothers.
If this hypothesis were confirmed with archaeological evidence, it could be believed that the Phoenicians were in Rio about 800 years before Christ, and that Pedra da Gávea would be a tomb where Badezir or Jeth-Baal would be buried, and human features shaped on the stone would be the face of Badezir or Jeth-Baal.
Whose face would the sphinx be, already eroded by erosion, and without the nose? It would be the representation of the face of King Badezir or Jeth-Baal. And was that formation really the representation of an unfinished sphinx? Or eroded by erosion?
There are those who claim from the height of all their wisdom that it is a sphinx. And one of the staunchest defenders of this hypothesis is the president of the Brazilian Association of Speleology and Archaeological Research in Rio, Roldão Pires Brandão, who stated:
"It is a sphinx engraved in granite by the Phoenicians, which has the face of a man and the body of an animal lying down. The tail must have fallen off due to the action of time. The rock, seen from afar, has the grandeur of monuments pharaonic figures and reproduces, on one of its sides, the severe face of a patriarch".
Pedra da Gávea is also related to the Agartha portal, an entrance to a subterranean world inside the Earth, arising from the Hollow Earth theory.
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Credits:
Drone footage taken by my mountaineering guide, Marcelo Kastrup (Adrena Rio);
Song: The Floating World by Simple Minds (Album Cry).
No AI was used on the Clipchamp platform.
Sorrow - by IMAX
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Credits -
Hair -> [ TRUTH ] - Ophelia
Head -> Genus project Baby face W001
Skin -> CURELESS + - Deep dream skin
Hand -> CURELESS + - Demon hand
Barbed wire -> CURELESS +
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My heart weighs like a stone
And the burning sadness has become my home
The tortured world wants me to hate
But there’s a world inside
Where my love can bury my rage
Every second I disappear
I feel my senses dying
Sorrow, you are my light
Everything my heart desires
Show me your beautiful anger
Sorrow, keeping me sane
You turn my nights into days
I love your beautiful anger
When I am tempted to give up
And the winter’s drowning me with memories and loss
I leave my hungry mind outside‘cause there’s a beauty inside
And sorrow is fueling my fire
Every second I disappear
I feel my senses dying...
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I hope you like it <3
La luna di stasera non è solo un mondo sospeso in silenzio sopra di noi. .. è un mondo sospeso dentro di noi.
Taken at Elysion
I am wearing:
* [Cynful] Fuzzy Cardigan - Each color comes with 20 Satin inside colors and you will be able to turn the fluff on and off! Fatpack has 6 special colors! Exclusive for Fameshed Opening December 1st (NEW)
* {Limerence} Abby Hair. Exclusive for Kinky Event(NEW)
* United colors 2sexyfyou. Exclusive for Hipster Event(NEW)
* *AvaWay* CYNTHIA Necklace Exclusive for Tres Chic(NEW); MEOW RINGS GACHA SET (MAITREYA only). Exclusive for The Chapter Four and BLUME rings Gacha
Alme Chrome trends - basic
Catwa bento head - Catya
Maitreya Lara body
Lara Hurley skin - Beth
IKON Promise Eyes - Coffee
The pose is from Luanes World BENTO poses - "World Inside", with wineglass prop. exclusive for Tres Chic Opening December 17th (NEW)
People say I make strange choices, but they're not strange for me. My sickness is that I'm fascinated by human behavior, by what's underneath the surface, by the worlds inside people.
Johnny Depp
Hiatus is back with another Halloween concert on October 19 at The Grove in Anaheim. If you are in SoCal it would be worth seeing.
So if I’m still… and no one sees
I hold the world inside of me
And every life I’ve ever been
Sings softly from my soul… within
"I can walk, with you beside me
I can fall, with you to catch me
I can climb, with you beneath me
I can feel, your world inside me"
—etherwood
I really like alleyways like this, so of course I couldn't resist trying to take a picture here. We are in La Orotava and I took this shot in the early afternoon. I took advantage of the strong reflection of the sunlight from the row of houses opposite.
etherwood — world inside ♫
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EOS R RF35mm f1.8 Macro IS STM
Exposure: ƒ/3.5 | 1/1500s ISO 200
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This image is subject to full copyright © Please do not use my images on websites, blogs, or in other media without express written permission. F̶̅G̅. 2024 © all rights reserved
There's a hidden world inside every flower. You have to wonder what kind of magical creatures live in here. Imagine being small enough to get lost in this.
I can see why bees are so drawn. All that pollen to get stuck in their fuzzy fur.
I've been experimenting with a macro lens on a Nikon D7500. I wanted to see how far I can push the zoom. I think I could have zoomed even further, but this has the hidden world effect I was looking for.
All I've done in post processing was crop the image from 3:2 to 16:9, taking what I feel is the best part (which is actually most of the photo). Macro lenses seem to give a very shallow depth of field, but changing the aperture size to widen the depth introduces other effects.
In this instance, I went with the usual aperture setting.
I love watching drops as they gather along horizontal surfaces. Forming a tidy row, they start small and grow in size, plumping and stretching. The bigger they get, the better I can see the fantastical, upside-down version of my world inside each watery orb. Pulled by gravity, they tremble to hold on but eventually they fall and the cycle begins again.
Like a giant metronome of life, they measure the moments.
Drip, drop. Tick, tock.
Please see it LARGE ON BLACK.
This is a part of my recent set of images of the Salisbury cathedral. No HDR effects, a genuine reflection in the baptismal font of the Salisbury cathedral, England. The font is only 3 meters wide, but when one looks into it, one can see the magic world inside, as in the Harry Potter movies. An illusion of an infinitely large mirror was achieved by keeping my Sony A700 very close to the water surface.
While the world inside is all about things to buy, our hearts are already running wild outside these walls.
I was playing around with my macro camera and spotted this tiny little daisy. I zoomed in by quite a lot and snapped a photo.
There's a whole world inside this daisy. Just imagine being small enough to slide down those petals and explore.
I wonder what magical creatures live there.
I am wearing:
* United colors Jackie_outfit. Exclusive for Kustom9(NEW)
* *AvaWay* CARRIE Necklaces 1,2 and 3 and MEOW RINGS GACHA SET (MAITREYA only).
-FABIA- Mesh Hair (find it at tres chic).
Alme Summer Glam - Black
Catwa bento head - Catya
Maitreya Lara body
Lara Hurley skin - Beth
IKON Promise Eyes - Coffee
The scene:
* Serenity Style - Xena Eternal Love Panel and Love Box 1 . Exclusive for The Trunk Show opening today, december 19th.(NEW)
* Serenity Style LadyEllen's Rocking Toy Horse. Exclusive for MadPea's Christmas Hunt for Enchanted Toys. It runs till december 28th, and a HUD is required to play (it cost 100L and can be purchased at the MadPea's HQ) (NEW)
* Serenity Style Wings for my Angel. Exclusive for Paying it Forward(NEW)
* Serenity Style Nani Cat Stand, Bunnie Stand and Puppie Sit. Exclusive for The Liaison Collaborative(NEW)
* JIAN Lively labs - family bed and Laundry Pup.
dust bunny . wanderlust . hedera cabin RARE; woodland dreams . beaded chandelier, pillow ottoman, hanging macrame chair and carved table; mini christmas tree and present pile
[Katelicious] Pile Rug White (Tintable)
The pose is from Luanes World BENTO poses - "World Inside", with wineglass prop. exclusive for Tres Chic Opening December 17th (NEW)
Title.
September beach.
(iPhone 13 Pro shot)
Motosuka Beach. Kujukuri Beach. Sanmu City. Chiba Prefecture. Japan. 2025. … 1 / 1
(Photo of the day. Unpublished.)
Images:
ELLEGARDEN … The End of the World
youtu.be/3hAKmshltDY?si=3dlYv3ccvIMJwnjj
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My new novel
B♭ (B Flat)
Volume 17😄
The following is still in its draft stage and will be revised further.
Key parts are not disclosed.
The order of the content shown here is mixed.
(Of course, this is not the final version.)
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My new novel
B♭ (B Flat)
Columbia Point Residences, a redevelopment of an old warehouse district near the piers of Red Hook that look south over New York Harbor, sat with Williamsburg’s commercial and arts quarter to its north, a reclaimed stretch of landfill between them transformed into a quiet new neighborhood of low-rise detached houses.
On the freshly paved streets the laughter of children echoed, and the soft afternoon sun gently lit the roof tiles and white exterior walls. The wind carried a cool, saline scent from the sea, and, far off in the harbor, a ship’s horn punctuated the calm.
Residents were building new lives here, apart from the city’s daily tumult.
At three in the afternoon the light was still mild, gilding the leaves of the street trees. Mariners’ Row—this new residential enclave—presented itself with almost calculated perfection: rows of white houses, straight sidewalks flanking them. The scent of new construction and still-wet paint hung faintly in the air.
Mark Sanchez stood by the large living-room window and imagined a happy future for his family.
His unit, ERO, was the field force within ICE responsible for immigration enforcement and removals—hardened by the harsh realities of carrying out deportations—contrasted with HSI’s international-crime investigations. But here, behind the glass, he was simply a father and a husband.
Rachel had begun preparing dinner in the kitchen. Children’s voices drifted from the distant school-bus stop.
— Calm. Perhaps life is distilled on a Sunday at three in the afternoon, — he murmured inwardly.
The afternoon light slanted more and more; shadows reflected in the window stretched. On the neighborhood street, an old man walked slowly, pushing a cart as he walked his dog. The crossing laughter of children made that scene seem like an emblem of a gentle, innocent world.
Inside the house, the children were absorbed in play, and Rachel greeted them with a smile. The outside air was mild, the breeze only slightly warm; curtains swayed softly.
Mark opened the front door and checked the mailbox. There were notices about the new school and an announcement for a local disaster-preparedness drill.
At three in the afternoon, as the second hand crept forward, silence deepened.
Beside the house’s foundation concrete there was a faint tremor.
In the afternoon hush, the harbor horn and the rustle of leaves in the breeze filled the soundscape—sounds that masked a subtle detonation so that the surrounding residents did not notice. Smoke rose slowly; there was no fierce blaze at the moment of explosion, only fine dust quietly filling the air. The collapse did not happen all at once but proceeded slowly and inevitably. Part of the exterior wall developed quiet fissures; glass trembled and fractured into fine shards. Wooden posts toppled one by one without a sound, the house crumbling inward as if in a muted dance. A small shock set off a chain reaction of charges that dismantled the structure from within—silently yet surely. The exterior split without fanfare; windows became powder; wooden supports began to fall.
But the noise had been suppressed to the greatest extent possible; the neighborhood’s residents scarcely noticed anything had occurred.
In the distance, silhouettes of buildings slumped and settled. Not only Mark’s house but a blue house about three hundred meters across the street, and a white house further in, kicked up clouds of dust.
Three houses vanished in an instant.
The wind halted for a moment; only the leaves of the street trees trembled.
Mariners’ Row’s afternoon regained its former stillness, as if nothing had happened.
Yet everything had changed.
By planting small, distributed charges of C4 at several points in the foundation concrete and detonating them in precisely timed, ordered sequences, the shockwave could be minimized while the skeleton of the structure was collapsed from the inside.
Rafi’s knowledge of architecture had made possible not mere destruction but a “quiet collapse.”
“Use only the force that’s necessary”—that was his credo.
From a rooftop some distance away, Rafi watched the scene unfold; a deep silence flowed through his chest. For him, it was both an outcry and a prayer. The silence dwelling in destruction was the expression of his tangled feelings.
From childhood, Rafi had found refuge only in silence. The clamor of children playing in Gaza’s dusty alleys, the thunder of airstrikes—these had only wounded him more deeply. In a rundown corner of Gaza, the small Rafi leaned against a wall. When the roar of bombardment receded, the brief stillness was a salvation.
His mother’s tears, his father’s anger—the chaos of it all—the boy sought only a place without sound. He fled inward to a world without noise.
Tinkering with the innards of a broken radio with small hands, Rafi first understood the relation between destruction and quiet. A ruined radio, after it lost its sound, simply remained there in material form, silently.
As he grew, his inner life knotted into complexity. He studied architecture at the Islamic University to make shapes and manipulate structures as a way to steady the disorder within him. Even the days bent over blueprints failed to soothe the quiet madness hidden under his skin. When he faced a building plan, his hands trembled; in his head the calculated beauty of structure mixed with the cool cruelty of demolition.
Then he found a method to produce the silence he had once sought: planting bombs.
For him, it was the only way to externalize his pain. The C4 placed silently at a building’s core crystallized the intersection of his desire to destroy and his thirst for silence. Israel’s attacks on Gaza had stoked his rage, but the true explosion had been nurtured in the quiet of his childhood. For Rafi, releasing explosives without sound was a ritual of severing himself from the world’s noise.
Rafi’s heart could find rest only in the stillness of destruction; he was trapped in a darkness no one noticed.
Without sound, unnoticed by anyone, he broke his world and obtained silence.
And no one knew that his cry was hidden within that quiet destruction.
Construction of Columbia Point Residences had begun in 2024. The three collapsed houses had been occupied by staff of the U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement—ICE—and its Enforcement and Removal Operations, ERO.
They took off their uniforms, sat at these tables with their families. By day they detained migrants and sent them out of the country; by night they held children on their laps and drank beer.
To Rafi, those two faces were one mask. Smile and cruelty breathed under the same skin. It was almost impossible to discern the boundary. He had seen the light in those houses many nights—the silhouettes at dinner through the curtains, laughter. There were no faces of the detained among them.
Each night Rafi never missed the five prayers. His fingertips turned sacred pages of the Qur’an; Arabic verses rang in his heart. “True strength lies in patience; vengeance is entrusted to God”—that phrase steadied him, lending calm. His anger was forbidden to flare; it lived quietly inside.
Recent news repeated the same refrain daily—“a million deported annually,” “military bases converted to detention centers,” “raids even on pending family applications”—numbers passing through the broadcast with a dry sound. But behind those numbers were names: his mother’s name, his sister’s name, the old man next door. Those names did not run on the news; they had no voice.
Rafi thought: this is not policy but selection—sorting who to keep and who to cast aside on sheets of paper. His faith taught mercy and justice, yet the world trampled those teachings. “God is the judge; we are only witnesses”—he repeated in his heart, while refusing to look away.
People in the city sought ways to lighten their lives. Yet tariff hikes made the very air heavy. Bread, nails, gasoline rose in price; sighs filled the shopping streets. Oddly, ICE and ERO garages always housed new vehicles; uniforms looked uncreased and shoes had thick soles. It was the result of budget and protection, the payoff for casting others aside.
Rafi kept calm. To erupt in emotion was to feed the enemy’s desire. So he hid his anger. The fire burning within him was tended like a vow to God—silent and steady.
Stories of neighbors taken in the night, a child crying as someone was seized—each one settled into him and became fuel. But it never flared. It only fed the coals and raised the burn temperature. From the outside, he seemed a gentle man. Inside, however, a balanced plan of destruction was quietly taking shape.
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My new novel:
B♭ (B-flat)
There’s still more to come. 😃
(This is not the final draft.)
Set in New York City.
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Soundtrack.
music.apple.com/jp/playlist/b-my-novel-soundtrack/pl.u-47...
Note: I gave a brief explanation of this novel in the following video:
youtu.be/3w65lqUF-YI?si=yG7qy6TPeCL9xRJV
iTunes Playlist Link::
music.apple.com/jp/playlist/b/pl.u-47DJGhopxMD
My new novel:
B♭ (B-flat)
Notes
1. "Bombay Blood Type (hh type)"
•Characteristics: A rare blood type that lacks the usual ABO antigens — cannot be classified as A, B, or O.
•Discovery: First identified in 1952 in Mumbai, India (formerly Bombay).
•Prevalence: Roughly 1 in 10,000 people in India; globally, about 1 in 2.5 million.
•Transfusion Compatibility: Only compatible with blood from other Bombay type donors.
2. 2024 Harvard University Valedictorian Speech – The Power of Not Knowing
youtu.be/SOUH8iVqSOI?si=Ju-Y728irtcWR71K
3. Shots Fired at Trump Rally
youtu.be/1ejfAkzjEhk?si=ASqJwEmkY-2rW_hT
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Title.
九月の海辺。
( iPhone 13 pro shot )
本須賀海岸。九十九里浜。山武市。千葉県。日本。2025. … 1 / 1
(今日の写真。それは未発表です。）
Images:
ELLEGARDEN … The End Of The World（歌詞、和訳付き）
youtu.be/3hAKmshltDY?si=3dlYv3ccvIMJwnjj
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僕の新しい小説。
B♭ （ビーフラット）
第17弾。 😄
以下は、まだ初稿の段階です。まだ推敲します。
重要な部分は公開していません。
公開している内容の順番はバラバラです。
(もちろん最終稿ではありません。)
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僕の新しい小説。
B♭ （ビーフラット）
ニューヨーク港を南に望むレッドフックの埠頭に近い、古い倉庫街を開発したコロンビア・ポイント・レジデンシズは、北側にウィリアムズバークの商業・アート地区を背にし、その間の埋立地を再造成した、低層戸建て中心の静かな新興住宅街だ。
新しく舗装された道には、子供たちの笑い声がこだまし、午後の柔らかな陽射しが屋根の瓦や白壁の外壁を優しく照らしている。風は海からの冷たい香りを運び、港湾の遠くで聞こえる船の汽笛が静けさにアクセントを加えた。
住民たちは日常の喧騒から離れ、ここに新たな生活の基盤を築いている。
午後３時の陽射しは、まだ柔らかく街路樹の葉を黄金色に染めていた。
マリナーズ・ロウの新興住宅街は、まるで計算されたように完璧な整列を見せている。白壁の戸建てが並び、まっすぐな歩道が両脇に伸びる。新築の香りと、まだ新しいペンキの匂いが微かに漂っていた。
マーク・サンチェスはリビングの大きな窓から外を眺めながら、家族の幸せな未来を思い描いていた。
彼が属するEROは、ICEを構成する２部門のうちのひとつ、HSIの国際犯罪捜査に比べ、EROの移民の強制執行や送還を行う現場部隊で培った厳しい現実もあったが、ここではただの父親であり夫だった。
レイチェルはキッチンで夕食の準備を始めている。子供たちの声が、遠くのスクールバス停から聞こえてきた。
ー 穏やかだ。日曜日の午後３時に、人生は集約されているかもしれない ー
彼は胸のうちでそうつぶやいた。
午後の光は徐々に斜めになり、窓ガラスに映る影が伸びていく。住宅街の通りでは犬の散歩をする老人が一人、手押し車を押しながらゆっくり歩いていた。子供たちの笑い声が交差するその風景は、穏やかで無垢な世界の象徴のようだった。
家の中では子供たちが遊びに夢中になり、レイチェルがにこやかに声をかけている。外の空気は穏やかで、風はわずかに暖かく、揺れるカーテンが優しく靡いていた。
マークは玄関のドアを開け、郵便受けを確認する。ポストには新しい学校の案内と地域の防災訓練のお知らせが入っていた。
午後三時、秒針がゆっくりと動く中、静寂が深まっていった。
家の中心、基礎のコンクリートのすぐ脇が微かに揺れた。
午後の静けさの中、遠くからは港湾の汽笛と、風に揺れる街路樹の葉擦れの音が響いていた。それらの環境音が、わずかな爆破音をかき消し、周囲の住民が気づくことはなかった。煙はゆっくりと立ち上り、爆発の瞬間に生まれる激しい炎はなく、ただ細かな粉塵が静かに空気を満たした。倒壊は一気ではなく、ゆっくりと、しかし確実に進んだ。外壁の一部が静かに亀裂を生み、ガラスは微細に震えながら割れていく。木製の柱が一本、また一本と音もなく倒れ、家全体が内側から崩れていく様は、まるで静かな舞踏のようだった。爆薬はわずかな衝撃で連鎖反応を起こし、家の構造を静かに、しかし確実に破壊していく。外壁は音もなく割れ、ガラスは粉々になり、木製の柱が倒れ始めた。
しかし、騒音は極力抑えられ、周囲の住民たちは何が起きたのか気づきにくいほどだ。
遠くで小さく崩れ落ちる建物のシルエットがあった。マークの家屋だけでなく、通りを挟んで３００mほど先の青い家、そして、そこからさらに奥へ進んだ白い家から砂埃が舞い上がった。
3軒の家が瞬時に消えた。
風が一瞬止み、街路樹の葉が揺れる音だけが響く。
マリナーズ・ロウの午後は、再び何事もなかったかのように静けさを取り戻した。
しかし、すべては変わってしまったのだ。
基礎のコンクリートに小分けしたC4を複数箇所に埋め込み、微細なタイミングで順序良く起爆させることで、衝撃波を最小限に抑えつつ構造の骨組みを内側から崩していく。
ラフィの建築学の知識が、単なる破壊ではなく「静かなる崩壊」を可能にしていた。
「必要な力だけを使う」——それが彼の信念だった。
ラフィは遠くの建物の屋上からその光景を見つめ、胸に深い静寂が流れた。彼にとって、それは叫びでもあり、祈りでもあった。破壊の中に宿る静寂こそが、彼の複雑な感情の表現だったのだ。
ラフィは幼いころから、静寂の中にしか安らぎを見いだせなかった。
ガザの埃っぽい路地裏で遊ぶ子供たちの喧騒も、爆撃の轟音も、彼の心を深く傷つけるだけだった。廃れたガザの街角で、幼いラフィは静かに壁にもたれかかっていた。爆撃の轟音が遠ざかる瞬間、その静寂は彼にとって一瞬の救いだった。
母の涙、父の怒り、そのすべてが混ざり合う騒乱の中で、彼はただ「音のない場所」を求めていた。彼は音のない世界へと逃げ込んだ。
小さな手で壊れかけたラジオの中身をいじりながら、ラフィは初めて「破壊」と「静けさ」の関係に気づいた。壊れたラジオは、音を失った後に、ただ静かにそこに物質としての形状を保っていた。
成長するにつれ、彼の内面は複雑に絡み合った。
イスラム大学の建築学部に進んだのは、形を作り、構造を操ることで、彼の心の乱れを制御しようとしたからだ。大学で建築を学ぶ日々も、彼の心の奥底に潜む静かな狂気を癒すには足りなかった。建物の設計図に向き合うとき、彼の指先は震え、頭の中で計算される構造の美しさと破壊の冷徹さが入り混じった。
そして彼は、かつて自分が求めた静寂を「作り出す」方法を見つけた。
爆弾を仕掛けること。
それは彼にとって、自分の痛みを外に放つ唯一の手段だった。
建物の中心に静かに仕掛けられたC4は、彼の「破壊への欲求」と「静寂への渇望」が交錯した結晶だった。イスラエルによるガザ攻撃は彼の憎悪を燃え上がらせたが、真の爆発は幼少期の沈黙の中でじわじわと育まれていた。彼にとって、爆薬を音もなく解き放つ行為は、世界の騒音から自分自身を切り離す儀式だったのだ。
ラフィの心は、破壊の静けさの中にしか安息を見出せず、誰も気づかない闇に囚われていた。
音もなく、誰にも気づかれずに、彼は自らの世界を破壊し、静寂を手に入れる。
そしてその静かな破壊の中に、彼の叫びが隠されていることを、誰も知らなかった。
コロンビア・ポイント・レジデンシズは、２０２４年に工事の着工が始まった。崩壊した三棟に住んでいたのは、米国移民税関取締局のICEとその強制退去執行部門であるEROの職員たちだった。
彼らは制服を脱ぎ、この家で家族と食卓を囲む。昼間、移民を拘束し、国外へ送る彼らが、夜には子どもを膝に抱き、ビールを飲む。
ラフィには、その二つの顔がひとつの仮面にしか見えなかった。微笑みと冷酷が、同じ皮膚の下で息をしている。その境目を見極めることは、ほとんど不可能だった。彼は何度も、職員たちの家に灯る明かりを見た。カーテン越しに見える食卓の影、笑い声。そこには、拘束された者たちの顔はひとつもなかった。
ラフィは毎夜、沈黙のなかで五回の礼拝を欠かさなかった。彼の指先は厳かにクルアーンのページをめくり、アラビア語の詩句が心に響いた。
「真の強さは忍耐にあり、復讐は神の手に委ねられる」—その言葉が彼を支え、冷静さを与えた。
怒りは熱く燃え上がることを許されず、静かに内側で息づいていた。
最近のニュースは、毎日が同じ旋律を繰り返していた。
ー 「年間百万人送還」「軍事基地を収容所に転用」「家族申請中でも摘発」 ー
数字は乾いた音を立ててニュースの中を流れていく。
だが、その数字の裏側には名前があった。母の名、妹の名、隣に住んでいた老人の名。それらはニュースには載らず、声にもならなかった。
ラフィは思った。これは政策ではなく、選別だ。残す者と捨てる者を、書類の上で振り分ける作業だ。
彼の信仰は慈悲と正義を説く。だが今の世界は、その教えを踏みにじっていた。
「神は審判者、我らはただ証人」 — 彼は心の中で繰り返しながらも、見過ごすことを拒んだ。
街では誰もが生活を軽くする方法を探していた。だが、関税の引き上げは空気までも重くした。パンも、釘も、ガソリンも値を上げ、ため息が商店街を満たした。
不思議なことに、ICEやEROの車庫にはいつも新しい車が並んでいた。制服は新品のように皺ひとつなく、靴底は厚かった。それは予算と保護の結果であり、他者を切り捨てた見返りでもあった。
ラフィは冷静だった。
感情を爆発させるのは、敵の望むところだ。だから彼は、怒りを表には出さなかった。彼の内に燃える火は、神にささげる誓いのように、静かに、確実に燃え続けていた。
夜中に連れ去られた隣人の話。拘束の最中に子どもが泣き叫ぶ声。その一つ一つが、彼の胸の奥で沈殿し、火種になった。
しかし、決して燃え上がることはない。ただ、確実に燃料をくべ、燃焼温度を上げていく。外から見れば、彼は穏やかな男だった。
だが、内側では均衡の取れた破壊の計画が静かに形を成していた。
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僕の新しい小説。
B♭ （ビーフラット）
舞台はニューヨークです。
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www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/54811315069/in/dateposted...
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www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/54793744070/in/dateposted...
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www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/54771288620/in/dateposted...
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www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/54769008619/in/dateposted...
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www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/54758538180/in/dateposted...
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www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/54743658539/in/dateposted...
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www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/54737038151/in/dateposted...
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www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/54720346098/in/dateposted...
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www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/54713957969/in/dateposted...
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www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/54703714420/in/dateposted...
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www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/54696914108/in/dateposted...
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www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/54686544606/in/dateposted...
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www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/54653035442/in/dateposted...
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www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/54639396885/in/dateposted...
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www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/54628511025/in/dateposted...
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www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/54599616429/in/dateposted...
Soundtrack.
music.apple.com/jp/playlist/b-my-novel-soundtrack/pl.u-47...
追記 この小説を多少説明しました。
youtu.be/3w65lqUF-YI?si=yG7qy6TPeCL9xRJV
メモ
1
「Bombay型（ボンベイ型、hh型）」
•特徴：通常のABO血液型を持たない（A、B、Oに分類されない）特殊な型。
•発見地：1952年、インド・ムンバイ（旧ボンベイ）で初めて確認。
•発生頻度：インドでは1万人に1人程度だが、世界的には約250万人に1人とも。
•輸血制限：同じBombay型しか輸血できない。
2
2024年ハーバード大学首席の卒業式スピーチ『知らないことの力』
youtu.be/SOUH8iVqSOI?si=Ju-Y728irtcWR71K
3
Shots fired at Trump rally
youtu.be/1ejfAkzjEhk?si=ASqJwEmkY-2rW_hT
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today i finally overcame
trying to put the world inside a picture frame
maybe I would tell you all about it
when I'm in the mood
to lose my way but let me say
you should have seen that sunrise
with your own eyes
it brought me back to life
you'll be with me next time I go outside
just no more 3 by 5's
-john mayer
People talk about escapism as if it's a bad thing... Once you've escaped, once you come back, the world is not the same as when you left it. You come back to it with skills, weapons, knowledge you didn't have before. Then you are better equipped to deal with your current reality.
Neil Gaiman
A definitely colorful world outside vs. the guessing of a dark world inside...
And one more door to open... or to leave tight closed, as it is.
The choice is ours...
Shall we?
A picture particularly dedicated to a special Flickr friend from Down Under and a fan of my door photos: Mary from the Blue Mountains or just bluemountainsmary!..