Alex’s Home, A Year Later…!

Feb 03, 2026

Hey,

I hope you’re doing well. It’s Saturday morning and I’m sitting in what used to be our part-time lathe-cut vinyl-making room, part-time office where I wrote several missives, and also an overdub recording studio, all in one single room, located on the top floor of Alex’s home in Virginia.

It now serves as a massive storage room following the water flooding disaster of his home a year ago. It’s also my bedroom and still office, where I’m writing down those few words to you following what has been such an intensive week around what happened in Minnesota, what’s going on in Iran, Alex’s return from Morocco and us both travelling into what used to be a paradise on earth turned into a total desolation, with the only thing left of the original home being our souvenirs as we walk through corridors with no walls and can see the lower level through what used to be floors.

I’ve nonetheless been really inspired today by a story that happened to Alex and me as we were checking our suitcases in at the Montreal airport. We’ve been welcomed by a gentleman with the name of Massoud. Alex asked him about his ethnicity, and he of course answered Iranian, which led to such a powerful, beautiful, and inspiring conversation between the three of us.

Massoud, filled with emotions after 20 minutes of what impacted us all in so many ways, left his counter in order to hug us, thank us, and bless us for our journey to come. It was such a wonderful human moment where nothing else mattered than what matters the most: empathy and compassion.

Once I arrived in my “room” that night, I decided to dive into Iran’s world of writers, musicians, and world changers.

🎧 Music I’m listening to

King Raam - The Hunter

Raam is an Iranian musician, writer, and podcast host. He started his musical career as the singer/songwriter/founder of Hypernova, a punk band born in the undergrounds of Tehran. Raam paved the way for a new generation of aspiring underground Iranian artists.

In January 2018, Raam's father, Kavous Seyed Emami, a prominent environmentalist, was arrested in Tehran under false charges of espionage. Two weeks after his arrest he was killed in Iran’s notorious Evin Prison. Raam and his family attempted to flee Iran, but the authorities detained his mother and confiscated her passport. Raam and his brother were allowed to leave, but his mother was held hostage in Iran for 582 days.

Of course, the song title got my attention at first, and after listening to this beautiful musical journey a few times in a row, I thought you might enjoy it as well! No Music No Life!

📖 Reading highlight I’m pondering

You want to erase my being, but in this land I shall remain
I will continue to dance as long as I sustain
I speak as long as I’m living; fury, roar, and revolt your stones and rocks
I fear not, I’m flood, my flow you can’t halt
- Simin Behbahani: Iran’s Legendary Poet And Advocate

As I was in my room filled with debris and dust in what is now Alex’s home, I was reading the news before calling it a day until I remembered the incredible moments we shared with this Iranian man at the United Airlines counter earlier that day. I started to dig into some influential Iranian writers who impacted their nation and the world over the past century.

After reading a few of Rumi’s poems, I remembered Simin Behbahani and how much her life reminded me that poetry can be both a refuge and a form of resistance. Through decades of censorship, exile, and political pressure, she never stopped writing with tenderness, courage, and an unshakable belief in human dignity, especially for women and the silenced.

Her voice proved that art does not have to shout to be revolutionary; it only has to remain truthful. For me, she stands as a powerful mirror: an artist who transformed pain into beauty, personal vulnerability into collective strength, and creativity into a lifelong act of human rights. She shows that staying gentle in a brutal world is, in itself, a radical and enduring form of hope.

🎧 Documentary That Inspired Me

Minnesota Hardcore

Following what has been such a dark and tragic week in Minnesota, the images and testimonies will live with us all for a very long time, sadly. Every time these kinds of events occur around the world, I’m always trying to see what artists from the area are saying, writing, or singing about, since to me, and I’m sure for you all as well, art is the soul of life.

I didn’t want to share the latest song from Bruce Springsteen, as I’m sure you all have heard it a lot lately, so, as I was doing my 10k steps with Alex, he shared a documentary he had watched a few weeks ago titled Minnesota Hardcore. I immediately thought I’d share it with you, since to me, art might be the soul of life, but it’s the people around it who are its heartbeat!

Community! This word should resonate louder and harder than ever before! This world needs you, needs us…!

Minnesota Hardcore is a fast-paced, musical docu-series that examines the punk scene in the Twin Cities from 1980 to 1985. The Minnesota scene was a close-knit community of artists and fans that encouraged culture and spawned huge talents like Hüsker Dü, The Replacements, Soul Asylum, Rifle Sport, and more. Hope you’ll enjoy!

📸 My Picture Of The Week

Virginia, here we come!!!!!

💬 Shared in the Long Shadows Chat this week

It was in May 2025 when Alex decided to invite us all to follow him on his personal Substack, where, since then, he has so generously opened countless amounts of personal doors, not only seeking freedom but also truly experimenting with it in its purest and most powerful forms.

It was during that same month that he started to share about his daily rituals at his beloved home in Virginia, surrounded by nature, far enough from the chaos of our modern societies, where hundreds of birds, deer, foxes, bears, and wild turkeys are adding to the daily wonders of living in those beautiful mountains!

When Alex writes about his three daily rituals in Virginia, he doesn’t describe habits meant to create comfort, but what personal and meaningful anchors look like. Coming back a year later to a home that is nearly destroyed, those rituals take on a deeper, almost defiant meaning.

When everything familiar has been altered or lost, repeating the same gestures each day becomes a way of saying: “I am still here.” They are acts of continuity in the face of rupture, small and deliberate moments where time slows down and meaning survives chaos. In a space that no longer protects or reassures, these rituals become a quiet form of reconstruction, not of walls or rooms, but of identity, grounding, and inner shelter.

They remind us that when the external world collapses, what we choose to return to, day after day, can still hold us together.

If you never took the time to watch those, or if you just joined the community, I’m inviting you to do so here: