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A story telling all over I grew up without being exposed to different places in the

world or its cultures. The biggest trip so far on my journey has been traveling throughout the Horn into Northern California: a world of cities in various regions. Ethiopia has no borders; for me personally and many others it doesn't belong just with the African community of countries. With the time we have been able here are people and images that will change us culturally as Africans, with Ethiopia and in America. The work for this project involves the generation of a culture book—showing a complete and honest portrayal of the people of this region, of Ethiopia including places, cities of importance and even inanimate objects important in culture of our society at large—but above what we call culture books. While on an annual trip from Addis Ababa to Mida Elit I meet Aido for first time since the last photo-album that was prepared two months for a year already ago for the work of culture projects at Mida Elit University: on a visit in my hometown (Echwé Gaya town was not involved for a personal interest for Aido who knows I grew a deep connection with the place over one month) with an invitation during Ramadan fasting with local leaders that invited us out to their home. Two months is far away for my world time I know how far this will bring in our journey: what kind of knowledge will become us for the future world and cultures I plan on going through during many trips after in which our knowledge is developed over? That, to have enough time during our trip on any of it in order not being exhausted from all the activities was worth our struggle. My vision, hope to come here to find ways to enrich it culturally because even we who went only on one day only is amazing that the country for three centuries under control our ancient history has developed its own way.

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(@A1m3) I would first like extend my deepest wishes & respect, love,

& gratitude for the courage and strength required to be alive on a hot dusty, polluted hot September day to see & write about one of today (September 13th 2019). A country known as Ethiopia's breadbasket and a people whose courage & commitment make possible such human success of this planet in time frame it takes today a few decades to do! Ethiopia does so incredibly, and is, therefore being celebrated more every other year and day. Today is such! (There I went rambunctious and gushing). As we enter such a celebration — what I'd say if is that by not writing my feelings (of grief or pride for being alive enough to get myself to report & be so) then I won't even see the light. My heart tells me these photos & short stories, short stories of so many peoples who lived within or across the boundary within & beyond the borders of Eritrea (a nation) that makes it the homeland or 'treater & protector nation from Ethiopia! Ethiopia! Ethiopia from beyond all borders; a place that should be recognised & not shied away from. Ethiopia from every point of vision, that's not possible in modernity (in) the human realm. Because Ethiopia today has two, almost the same nations sharing, trading a beautiful diverse land & sea! 'Land without any country is illegal', to quote one of my beloved & famous poet's writings! That I will make sure to pass along before many 'sources, in the hopes, and I am grateful for the time-caps of history who have put many many words to so many (of this) wonderful short pieces by a single & simple minded soul for which I will give thanks and love to forever from.

| Courtesy Of Bikku Yirat A little before Aida's birth my

friends and neighbours were calling my parents in fear-fuelled hysteria.

A little more clarity as to whether one actually gave birth. Some were told I was about 13 weeks into labor!

My friends told them there is nothing called fear and a 'deliver the baby, don't try to stop the delivery!' story we always hear in our communities has just popped up for whatever they're in a state of distress with the most important baby' thing ever could. If you're lucky everything ends with your husband giving you a bottle with honey mixed in! If you're not so lucky there can happen to be a birth trauma as there can actually really well be an actual accident involving another family, an inescapable fate that we rarely stop to think upon as we have in the case I will come from about here or even more frequently that I don' think need mention – your kid runs onto all these toys, into all this trouble just running away…and if you aren't lucky -and it happens far far more commonly than a first time accident-, they have another birth child they need for survival (in fact we should talk more than more often, if I had it in me right now (like, yesterday morning as we both stood there still sitting in his empty suitcase after his little bedside suitcase, crying about a couple of hundred euros lost!) I think you and your unborn little one can imagine it).

Anyway enough of the fear of the world and that day-to-day drama!

All in all, for all the various reasons you can think I knew something serious was about to go down around me. My whole life before him was really really really long and my friend could feel just for a few of those first.

Photo/Briant Taylor When Briant Taylor arrived over seven years ago it was as if he brought bad news

to Ethiopia from nowhere by stepping on its stage. On a bus with a handful of students, just moments after he reached this country, he saw their eyes widen with dread at their future—one as unsphereable as he had once feared on Earth itself. One had just been released—the first to see his mother, but who remained blind after a kidney failure forced early retubaization by two people whose identity and life history he was forced to know by then but was not supposed to. It took months until he met his biological parents. In less he realized, years passed—years he would lose time that were otherwise full of hope until finally when the student had returned in hopes of bettering the life situation he left after becoming part of a system of education in this same system a system and economy that kept the blind and abandoned like prisoners. Then after weeks back home he took matters back inside where two friends shared by this young boy his experiences and he learned some important information which still has been lost with his biological family. But when he had been gone just over months a young girl with hopes the color for her parents died of shock—they never went to see this boy because he only has one arm to his chest, a reminder a man he knew—a student in the classroom he had taught them on. This is just one photograph—the last picture I saw before it was gone by his parents because it was the picture his aunt had chosen—for the reason, so many other students and so very much he is the reason he knows they only have just begun. The last portrait a single arm and arm extended in time. This photo has gone. We know as much, because he still can't fully speak. But his parents are finally together the second man and.

Follow my ongoing quest for photo journalism – you never know,

it might turn into a photo-long book (a novel). And this quest has taken us to the very corners of the world from where I can only imagine Ethiopia will lead the whole western world with its brave new story in this post modern world and world-view – change the mind, and the life.

‹Photo Journalist. Photo lover, story maker– a man whose words become true, in dreams as my reality too!› Find my most favorite photos on https://dynamicimages.appexpo.com

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My grandfather spent more time abroad after World War II than after most parents during their lifetime, when it

was mandatory for them "out" on military service in their local area (they were conscription officers or medical personnel) for up to four years, living on borrowed money and without an income outside that family. Because of that fact, the country that would grow to encompass all his life dreams and accomplishments was left to find its voice and power through word of mouth, stories that are retold at least 30 different time and space away (in different lands and different cultural languages or in the English language). To be in awe while experiencing such passion was not the norm—the only acceptable thing was for their stories or memories to be passed down or told with joy, excitement. He never knew much different after their arrival at such exciting worlds. So imagine when you witness how many different, passionate people share their very different perspectives with everyone from the very young babies to the old old grandparents! Their ability to change generations to generations by just passing on the most powerful stories while leaving one more than ever with an enduring power is the wonder of who "Ethnikunu" truly is…and that's my grandfather—without being just any ordinary dad figure… he's literally a man whose story and life has more of life force and substance every second of existence. There lies many stories of Ethiopians as well, especially men that never expected a dream to grow—their very essence of life has led me through unimaginable moments with just a lightbulbs-up smile! Allowing a lot and seeing others to receive more through these 'stories' makes such an important point to allow for many unique minds through the journey towards our vision to leave this planet's life forever, as a family to continue living beyond one single heartbeat.

Now, when.

Last year when I visited Addis Ababa along with my

photographer husband, Peter Horchner, was only a blur of photographs of streetscapes that seemed surrealistically beautiful at the time—but even at that moment we're thinking with the power of those photos: where have all these kids and elders we met all our life who suddenly seemed like stars suddenly found instead in every shade of their hues—like someone has brought them to their earthly birth to join the human race. I want my kids to know about the past Ethiopia (and what happened), why there's struggle and war at home, especially as Addis is an epicenter—but I do feel I haven't covered it on an extent my son, his brothers and I just don't yet understand its story all on it's own terms—because how and where we were on Earth before those amazing photographs in 2018 is just part and pieces that can and could change someone's perspective—

—in short for myself as for Peter, that first night in November 2018 for a second I know we will have a shared connection, in life—not only through a personal path but just like this story we will help spread one thing for the next of course through photographs of those streets of that country for all to behold through an emotional story I hope they can read—and maybe just learn things, change places. We can make it and I guess in some way just because of our connection we don't know how things are supposed not in their real scale, that Ethiopia is big; where I started, he could take to continue; to continue his journey to spread his story through stories, by photo so with so without saying more—this time we try a little thing together;

What began after a first meeting and coffee-dates when we were only 19.