A darkened room...

Filled with smoke, men melding themselves into muted sofa cushions, the lights turned up only enough to show their eyes, staring at the group of foreigners who had trudged their way into the venue late that night. Seated next to a TV blaring four songs on repeat, the visitors, through a serious of loudly repeated words and  hand gestures ordered their food and settled down to wait.  

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

The only way to combat such an atmosphere? KARAOKE!

Celine Dion.....here I come. 

Result...yes, I, Sarah Davis, received a loud round of applause and convinced most in the room that indeed, my heart would go on.

It's been a bizarre week....  

Crack Purse

This is what I have affectionately dubbed the fruit of my labor of the last night and morning.  What happens when I drink five cups of coffee...all after 5? Well, I start with a pattern for a much needed purse (my old one was tearing right and left), ditch the pattern twenty minutes in, and then end for the night at 3 am.  Wake up at 8:30, shower and then start again, to end at 12:20 pm.  Ta DA!

The cutting out of the pattern.  No pins, so I sat on the fabric and pattern while I cut it out for stability.

Finished, well, I almost, I think I am going to add a cell phone pocket on the strap in the back.

The end.  My face looks tired.  Because I was. Am.  Going to bed now. 

First Oil Painting...

I've done two more since then, I'll get them up here eventually.
I like oils because I can make small mountains and textures.

5th Grade

Was, the first time around, not my favorite year of elementary school.  So why not try it again?  A few weeks ago, Elise, DJ and I walked over to a nearby village, where our friend Kirsten and her husband, Mark, attend school (it is an adult degree completion program).  There were three classes that day, English, Arabic and Kurdish.  I understood a little in the Kurdish section, slightly more in the English (the class was still conducted mainly in Kurdish) and about one word in the Arabic.  Each class was around 50 minutes long, and each teacher had a very different personality.  The Kurdish teacher was an intimidating lady who strode up and down the aisles, pausing to stare down at you, which was a bit disconcerting.  Especially since I felt as though I was slacking since I couldn't answer any of her questions.  Most of the time was spent practicing my Kurdish writing in the back, listening to the Kurdish pour over my brain and avoiding eye contact with the teacher.  It was a good experience, and if I do end up staying for a few more years here, I plan on diving into the language (well, it would be a requirement, but at the moment I am just feeling stodgy in the whole language department.  Ishiki crapa.  [bad job])  To the right is a picture of the English teacher and Kirsten in class.  I particularly enjoy their facial expressions in it...

So, In actuality...

    I have been up to the odd-n-ends type of new things.  This past week Elise and I went to a seminar on Art and Prayer.  The first day was spent in wandering around outside, finding something that represented us in our current state, emotion, physical etc.  We then had an hour or so to return and create a piece depicting "us" using whatever medium we liked, be it paint, pencil, collage...and the list goes on.  So the end result is what you see on the right.  I have no done much in the artistic line of things lately, minus some cookie decorating and the odd music induced painting.  At the end of the class as well as the following morning we went around and displayed our art, describing how it represented us and getting feedback from others.  I'm realizing more and more that although I hate half hearted feelings, roomfuls of it made me a little unnerved.  What does this picture say about me? Well, my own interpretation was that I felt like a tree that was planted right outside of the building where we sat.  I am sure that in the summer it is lovely and full of life but at the moment it is draped across a metal frame, clinging on until the sunshine comes.  As for the hidden street sign, that alludes to the fact that I am still considerably up in the air as to what happens after the next six months.  I don't want to give off the impression that I am fretting over this, because in all honest I'm not.  I've gleefully planned a road trip to Yellowstone National Park and a tour of Eastern NY before settling down.  Where exactly I am settling down has yet to be determined.

    The second day we spent focusing on the city, creating pieced of art that reflect things that are needed so desperately in Iraq.  The first steps were just doodling on large sheets of paper, slicing up the paper as we wished and then combining the sketches with pieces of garbage. Words such as hope, identity, imagination (not something that you usually think of, but the ability to wonder at things and create is so apparently missing in many aspects of life here.  Some of the work organizations have done is just to show women how to imagine toys out of leftover household items, enabling both them and their children to experience play.) and love were among the words we fashioned into something visible.  These finished pieces were reviewed and then taken to our Tuesday night prayer meetings where we prayed for these things to be a daily reality for the people around us.   To the left was  mine, which depicted hope.
   The last day we were on our own, the main goal was just to spend some time creating and in prayer.  Most people continued to create for the city, but I, feeling a bit less holy, haha, started on a journal between me and God and just showing in picture what he has been doing, a visual reminder of how life and I are changing.  I really enjoyed it and am planning on continuing on, actually, I am dividing my time between writing this blog entry and cutting out images from a magazine draped across my lap.  I recommend it, it lets you enjoy color and shape and line while quieting your mind so you can hear a little clearer.  More later on that, have a marvelous day!  

So Classically American...

Well, not the most exciting of all things, but since I don't believe that I have made a pie since sophomore year in high school....I decided it deserved some acknowledgment.  Elise and I had our morning ladies over for an "American Meal".  This was a chance to let them taste some new foods, as well as to prove that we could get husbands, since we could now feed them.  On the Menu:  Honey Baked Chicken, Mashed Potatoes, Brocolli and Apple Pie.  Although we told them not to bring anything, two of our ladies brought desserts; all of these combined equaled another dreaded food baby.