Yazan—drawn from the Arabic root that speaks of weighing and balancing, yet echoing, in old Yemeni lore, the rain-kissed valley of Wadi Yazan—moves across the tongue like a brushstroke of midnight ink on washi, spare yet saturated; he carries the poise of perfectly stacked stones in a dry riverbed, offering parents the quiet assurance of equilibrium even in the restless swirl of modern life. Though his footprints in the United States have remained light—hovering just inside the upper half of the Social-Security rankings for three decades—each new arrival seems to land with the hush of a crane settling among reeds, hinting that rarity can be its own form of elegance. Within a single breath, Yazan holds desert wind and mountain mist, oud-scented tents and tea-steeped tatami, reminding the listener that balance is not stasis but a slow, deliberate dance between worlds.
| Yazan Halwani - |
| Yazan Naim - |