Travelling 250 kilometres into the Sahara Desert from Douz, a village in southern Tunisia, I experienced a profound change in my life and myself. The magic and sensuality of the Sahara entranced me and captured my soul. At night, lying in my Bedouin tent with my face to the stars, I would hold my arms around myself, feeling almost afraid that my spirit would leave my body and soar over the dunes never to return to my body. Only the memory of love would bring my spirit back...

Travelling through the Sahara, I felt the rhythm of pace, of thought, the camels and humans making patterns in the sand, one step in front of the other, each making its unique mark and pattern and those patterns encrypted in the desert's memory, becoming one with other memories throughout time.

Our Tunisian Bedouin guides had the perspective of being from nomadic Bedouin peoples, sharing their knowledge and spirit in generous strokes, helping us to understand their culture and world.

The Algerian Bedouins, who we met along the way, do not seem to concern themselves with the mainstream society's need to categorize and organize humans in a structured way. Political borders matter little, rather, they go where they need, roaming across the Sahara--their back yard--to graze their camels, goats and sheep where water and grass is available.

The Bedouin people are some of the most generous warm and open people I have ever met. They gave freely of what they had, and sometimes it was very little--but they didn't seem to think that they had very little. Rather--I became envious of their wealth--the blanket of stars to guide them and entrance them, the warm soft sands of the desert for resting their bodies at night and the rich community of people they share their lives with--a very large extended family.

In western culture, we see music and dance as something we "do" at certain specified times, places or events. Any variation from this is seen as almost "frivolous." With the Bedouins, music and dance is part of everyday life--not something that needs to be planned or structured into a safe box. I remember one woman I met who had walked numerous kilometres across the desert carrying an enormous load of sticks and grasses to take back to her camp. Nearing the camp, she noticed the Bedouin girls and me dancing and singing. She stopped in her tracks, put down her load and with a smile that lit up the sky, joined us in dance. She then picked up her load again, and carried on with her task.

Here are a few photos to give you a taste of my journey, but the most beautiful photographs will always be in my heart. Inshallah, I will be based out of Douz, Tunisia, beginning August 2008!