It feels so good to know that my right hand can still handle tools other than the mouse. It is so satisfying to practice something in a calm environment, fully concentrating on the particular movement of my hand. From right to left, contrary to the left-to-right visual culture that I am actually used to. For three weeks I’ve been taking part in a calligraphy workshop. The workshop, run by the calligraphy teacher of my colleague Hussein, allows me to understand more about and to get a feeling for calligraphy (and to learn writing arabic – a great side effect).

If you wonder what contributions arabs have made to the world, take a closer look at calligraphy. Just look at examples and you will understand that its main purpose is to represent the immense beauty of words – of the prophets’ words.

While earlier on I felt reminded of little insects when looking at calligraphy, today I see music: the letters are the notes. You feel that there is rythm (and by the way, the act of writing does produce various sounds when the reed bows the paper). There are various instruments, and see them working in the hands of an experienced composer is awesome.

I suppose that I look at calligraphy from a different angle than the other, arab participants. I don’t read what I write. Actually I do not write, I make shapes and curves and strokes. For somebody who cannot read or write arabic it is a different experience, but I can still feel that arabic and calligraphy belong together. Calligraphy wouldn’t be what it is without arabic, and written arabic wouldn’t be what it is without calligraphy. The arabic letters seem to long for calligraphy, as if calligraphy were the only valid form for them.

Getting curious? Listen to some calligraphic pieces on our teacher’s blog.