Tag: writing

Wine of Adyar Monastère de Rechmaya 2012

Lebanese Wines: Adyar Monastère de Rechmaya

Chris Khatsch1 Comment

Name: Monastère de Rechmaya 2012
Type: Red Wine
Grapes: Cabernet-Sauvignon, Syrah, Merlot, Cabernet-Franc
Year: 2012
Country: Lebanon
Region: Chouf
Date Consumed: December 9, 2023

It was cold outside,
not as cold as it should have been,
but cold enough for wine to be drunk
to warm our spirits.

“Such a lovely restaurant,” one of us said
as we let the waiter lead us to our table.
Our table faced the fireplace —
“Such a lovely fireplace!” —
where the gentle fire performed
a belly dance.

We ordered arak first,
and then wine,
and then mezze.

And we talked until
our stomachs were full.

I must say,
This is the kindest December I’ve ever met.
It has rained a few times
but not enough times to convince people
that a new season has come.


September 26, 2020: Maybe I should start reading less

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In the morning, I read the last pages of Nietzsche’s The Use and Abuse of History — now the 32nd book I read in 2020. I was happy at first, but, when I entered Goodreads to add it, I saw that I was three books behind schedule to hit my target of 48 books in 2020.

I went to the pile of unread books I have in my bedroom to choose the next book, but I got a little depressed.

One can never read enough. There is always more to read. It’s impossible to become Faustus.

And why am I reading? Why am I trying so hard to consume as many books as possible? Who am I racing or competing with? There are few people I know who read more than I do anyway. So what am I trying to achieve here?

Maybe I should slow down, read less but more carefully, write more… Think more, live more…

To acquire knowledge has been my only goal in life so far. I always wanted to know everything about everything, which is kind of — childish.

What is knowledge good for? (Foucault would say, “for cutting.”) Moreover, what am I good for?

Who do I want to be?

Aug 15, 2019: Sometimes The Story Writes Itself

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I started working on a story the other day, by mistake.

It was meant to be nothing but a quick writing exercise. But as soon as I gave my character a name and wrote the first sentence, the rest of the story started writing itself.

The story’s not done yet, unfortunately, but it’s not because I ran out of ideas. It’s because I didn’t have time to finish it yet. To be honest, I’m still not sure if it’s a short story or a novella. Every time I sit at my desk, for some unknown reason, the words just come. I just type them. My fingers dance on the keyboard.

Sure, it’s a rough first draft so far. Sure, I’ll have to rewrite it at some point. But I still can’t believe it. I do not have a plot, not even a list of characters. I’m writing one event after another, one scene after another… and the words just keep coming.

I feel inspired, though I don’t know what inspired me.

Yes, sometimes the story writes itself.

You just have to be there.