Apr 28, 2016

Seven Billion







Seven billion hearts beating

Seven billion hearts at once

Twice as many eyes

Fourteen billion eyes looking at something, seeing something completely different

And all the perspectives, numerous, incessant, incalculable, floating inside minds and space

In the Arabic language there’s a difference between looking ‘Nathar’ and seeing ‘Basar’

You look with your eyes, but you see with your soul, unseen things, absent people, feelings

You see pain, suffering, you see love, devotion, you see integrity, you see your dreams, you see the end.









Purpose




The erect tomb stone, purposeful, durable, grey and always the same

The rain always falling downwards and determined, calculated, pounding a moist earth

The tulip always pushing up its beautiful head from beneath the soil every spring

The magnolia tree majestic and generous, reaching its open hand, flower fingered and offering

The poetic clouds that possess a mysterious symmetry despite their fleeting nature

The tender rose, elegant in her gradual death, darkening edges, curling inwards

The moon, self-rationing and self-important   

I envied stability, consistency, reason. I envied things that belong

I don’t know belonging, I don’t know stability, or consistency

Purpose, usefulness and necessity are beyond me.








Apr 21, 2016

The Day I Built God








When I failed to define what God is, I decided to define what God isn’t.

Like a sculptor I had to chip away at the hard stubborn marble,

so rigid with endless years of untouchable, unquestionable divinity

hardened by eternities of terror, judgment and watchful scrutiny,

so determined was he to sniff out pitiful blasphemy.

I carved the cold dismal stone; God isn’t cold, God isn’t violent

God isn’t rigid, God isn’t austere, God isn’t deceitful,

God isn’t dishonest, God isn’t insecure, God isn’t insensitive

God isn’t opportunistic, God isn’t manipulative, God isn’t distant,

God isn’t cowardice, God isn’t misogynistic, God isn’t righteous,

God isn’t egoistic, God isn’t proud, God isn’t demeaning,

God isn’t male.


































Apr 17, 2016

The kiss



He walked me to my car
the night cold and wet
a bright crescent moon hung, a crocked smile
the gentleman in him leaned forward, offering an
innocent goodnight kiss on the cheek,
a gentle peck, a soft brush of cautious lips
his stubble sensuously teased my skin
his seductive fingers firm around the curve of my waist
that familiar and dizzying scent of a real man arousing me,
the wanting female finally opened her eyes after her long loathsome sleep,
she rose, yearning and hungry. I grabbed the stiff collar of his coat
bringing his lips to mine, my bruised red heart, iron hot and aflame
every cell in my body aching, vigorous and alert with desire, trembling in his
powerful embrace, I was at once the strongest and the weakest woman alive
the darkness around us suddenly still and attentive, the moon watched
the silence grew enormous, the startling quiet that swallowed the whole universe
for this, this one incredible moment to occur; all the elements stood at attention
in fear, in hope and in awe; a new love, a new birth and a new death.















Apr 16, 2016

A Day to Remember




My solo art exhibition at The Asylum Art Gallery, Wolverhampton, Friday 15 – 20 April 2016
I was so pleased with my art show at the Asylum, a great turn out of about fifty people and five paintings sold (Depression I, Depression III, Hope, Fish and Butterflies). What was most wonderful for me was all the interest I received, how everyone wanted to talk to me about my work, they had interesting questions and very intriguing remarks, it was so refreshing for me to be able to discuss my art with intelligent, artistic, creative and likeminded people, even the fact that I sold my favourite five works shows that there was a strong connection between me and the viewers who came to my show. I was touched so deeply by how the women in particular came and told me that every painting had resonated with them, that they related to the work and were moved by it. I couldn’t possibly receive a higher praise as I was working hard to convey the complexity and depth of the female emotion and I’ve succeeded and I’m very proud.

I'm so grateful to The Asylum Art Gallery for believing in me and for all their moral and financial support, for all the time and effort put into making my show a success, they took care of the promotion, the printed flyers and posters, the online marketing, the labelling and hanging of the paintings, the drinks, the music (which was an amazing mix of Jazz - my favourite), the photography and the filming of the event.  







Apr 13, 2016

The Asylum Art Gallery, Wolverhampton.


My solo art exhibition at the Asylum Art Gallery in Wolverhampton is this Friday from 6 - 9 pm and will run until April 20th  http://www.theasylumartgallery.com/#!belonging/ci0e

Naturally I'm very excited as I've been working hard towards this exhibition and am really looking forward to it. It's also a very ironic and interesting coincidence that I would be exhibiting at the "Asylum" when I have recently been informed that my request to reside in the UK on grounds that my ten year old daughter was born here has been rejected by the British Home Office and now I am in the process of leaving the UK for good. I'm not sad, a bit disappointed, but not sad; I've always thought of myself as a traveller, a wanderer, I can't imagine living in one place for too long, I've always questioned the concept of "home" and "belonging", these concepts are not real, they're lies invented by man to justify his other lies of "loyalty", "nationality" and "patriotism".
I'm looking forward to the future, a new beginning, a new place to live, new people to meet, new relationships and new experiences, I'd like to live somewhere warm, where the people are warm, friendly and kind, I struggled trying to make friends here in the UK, people here don't communicate unless it's by text messages, e-mails or facebook! They can't relax unless there is a screen between them and the world and even through these limiting, detached means of communication they still maintain their distance and their boundaries. So, I've got my eyes set on Dubai a young, exciting and vibrant city. Dubai is diverse, multicultural and cosmopolitan, full of new opportunities and hopefully full of people who believe in real human relationships :)


Some artworks I'm exhibiting at The Asylum Art Gallery, Wolverhampton, April 15 - 20/ 2016.

I named this painting "I Belong Somewhere", it represents my feeling of not belonging in the UK but also not belonging in the country where I was born (Kuwait). The subject is half immersed in the sea swimming with the fish while her other half is above water turning into a tree where birds build their nests. She belongs neither to land nor sea.




I named this painting "Broken", it represent violence and abuse against women.
Kintsugi ("golden joinery") or kintsukuroi ("golden repair") is the centuries-old Japanese art of fixing broken pottery with a special lacquer dusted with powdered gold, silver, or platinum. Beautiful seams of gold glint in the cracks of ceramic ware, giving a unique appearance to the piece. This repair method celebrates and emphasises the fractures and breaks instead of hiding or disguising them. Kintsugi makes the repaired piece even more beautiful and more valuable than the original, revitalizing the artifact with new life.




I like the idea of a female being the most powerful chess piece (chessman). The queen in a game of chess is not only the most powerful player but also the most flexible in movement, she is strategically moved on the chessboard to protect the king who is less flexible and thus more vulnerable to an attack.

The superiority of the female as the Queen is often reflected in wildlife; in a herd of elephants the oldest and the largest female elephant in size "The Matriarch" leads the herd, makes all the decisions and is obeyed and respected by the rest of the herd members. The Queen Bee dominates the bee colony or hive, she is specially fed, followed by all the bees in the colony and is fiercely protected.






In this painting I mixed Arabic calligraphy with the art of painting, Arabic is my native language and the text in the painting is a quote by Gibran Kahlil Gibran, my favourite Arabic poet, that's why I named this painting Gibran. The quote translates:

“A woman’s heart does not change with time, nor does it alter with the seasons. A woman’s heart may for long suffer and endure but does not perish. Her heart is like the wild which man destroys with his wars and his massacres, he pulls out its trees, drenches its rocks with blood, and yet it remains, calm and tranquil. In a woman’s heart spring remains spring until the end of time”




The Past
She opened the window and said to the past: "If I let you go, will you let me go too?"



All of my painting's (in one way or another) portray women. Why? Because women are magical beings, we are deep, complex and multidimensional, we are the source of all creation, beauty and inspiration. I am forever fascinated and intrigued by depth and complexity of the female emotion. I also enjoy painting women who look like me; tanned skin, black hair, brown eyes and full lips. Most women in works of art have Western features i.e. white skin, blond hair, blue eyes and rosebud lips, they are very beautiful of course, but I'd like to see more Eastern and Middle Eastern women represented in works of art, beauty in art should be diverse and relevant, not limited to one race. 





























Apr 11, 2016

Today



Today I rode my worn-out pink bike around the city, I felt free and light. The sky was grey with a cool wind blowing. I enjoyed breathing, I felt my lungs expand and my heart inflate, I felt my skin pores open up to inhale the clean air, my blood pumping strong and powerful and shooting up to my brain, awakening tired cells that have been lazily sleeping. I enjoyed feeling cold then warm as the heat of my body rose each time I struggled to cycle uphill, I enjoyed letting the wind carry me downhill without any effort of my own, taking my feet off the peddles, legs spread-out and laughing joyacly. I was a little girl playing again, a little girl wasting time because time was meaningless if not wasted in play, because nothing really matters and nothing ever will, and it took me a long time to see this. I softly hummed to the songs my mind was playing for me, happy playful songs, I took the long way home, I saw budding tree branches, shy little flowers slowly blooming, a new life unfolding, so much is still unwritten - I thought - and I was happy, I was free, I was beautiful.