Beauty Packaging I miss.

Maybe I'm just nostalgic for the 90's but there was something about the packaging and the burst of color and uniqueness that is lacking in today's products. How iconic are these Nina Ricci beauty items? 

What I came to learn was that this specific packaging was designed by an artist called Niki de Saint Phalle.

Original Link Here

 Makes sense! it's beautiful to look at. I understand the allure of the "sleek" look of the "oh so futuristic" 2000+ marketing. But seriously Y2K is so over. 

I'm surprised with the overflowing sugar rush of scents and products these days that this packaging isn't favored in today's market. 

Original Post for this picture is here!

Who could forget Revlon's StreetWear? This could just be my perspective but I fewl this pioneered O.P.I, Zoya, Essie and everyone else. I don't quite understand why Revlon discontinued the StreetWear branch as again I feel the design appealed more to the younger audience it was targeting. P.S. I owned both those colors above despite this picture not being mine.

Original Link Here

Original Link Here

So I understand "Diorific" is making a come back in the market - which makes sense that packaging was bold, beautiful and oh so luxurious. That's not why I posted these pictures though. The iconic red lips and hat- who could forget that look? Did I forget to mention the fuller faced models? These ads used to catch my attention and have remained in my memory since I was 10. That's saying something.
Honestly just look at this page. I want a hat and some red lipstick.. seriously:
 http://beauty-galaxy.livejournal.com/pics/catalog/4660

Probably not my greatest moment.

Ever wonder you spend so much time browsing the internet and watching videos on youtube of people reviewing things?

I do. I think I've watched at least 100 videos of girls talking about make up, products, colors they like, things they like and I've wondered if I'd like having those things too. Would I truly enjoy being "fabulous" and vlogging my life away? What's the difference if I'm typing it out.

Honestly I think it just feels like they're having a conversation with me. I get to see things and "have" things without actually having them. I can imagine make up packing clanck around in a make up bag. I love that sound - I love the sound of moving lipstick containers over each other, or the closing of a compact. I know though that I don't wear make up much if at all and I know that I shouldn't spend money on it so .. I don't. I like to enjoy it by proxy because for some reason when I buy it for myself it loses all it's magic. Why is that?

It's pathetic really. I need to enjoy as much of my life as I can but it's always limited to moments.
All the wise people telling you - don't worry don't sweat it but in turn the other wise people teaching you tell you that you should be worried and you should care a lot. In the end it's all about balance of course but how do you tip the scale when you've been stuck on one end too long?

Being a kid was so much easier and apparently I'm getting old. All them youtube hotties are 22. fml.

Oh yea and about my independent study. That's just such a self esteem booster I mean really, way to find out the author of the book your reading was part of a conference in your shit hole of a country. All the artists are men so of course I'm sure if I get there I'll be patronized. After all aside from being the possession of my father legally I am also the possession of my country.

Coming Clean

After watching this video I got to thinking back of a day when I was a kid, and my cousin had gotten 2 plastic keys that you could open like jewelry boxes. I wanted those so bad - usually he wasn't up for sharing but that day he was. I was so jealous that his mother got him any toy he wanted. I would stay over at my grandparents house for months and he and his family lived there too.
We went on to play with the keys and we were spinning around so I took this as an opportunity to lash out and have the key hit him in the face on "accident". I then ran off and hid in a closet because I knew what I did. I hurt someone because they had something I wanted.

Karma has a funny way of dishing that back out at you. My teenage years were extra special. I'm not going to go into detail out of respect for the person Karma chose as their messenger.

I'm not perfect, no one is, no matter how beautifully rendered or realistically painted their work is. Or how happy they appear in their Facebook pictures, Instagram, or tweets. I am - truly envious of those seemingly joyous moments. I am the green monster and I have been for months. I've been having a hard time appreciating what I can do.

Grades in school have taken over my mind as a form of judging where I belong. I know it's not good, but I barely talk to people in general. It's hard when you don't want to be the person who is about to have a mental breakdown in Yoga class. Being sent home because you started bawling in front of your teacher because well  let's face it, you're lonely no matter where you go. Your family has a very censored view of you and you can't just BE with anyone. All you seem to be getting are B's therefore you're just a B grade egg and no one wants those right? RIGHT?
to quote American dad -

Klaus: It's high school, Steve. It doesn't matter

Steve: You said that about middle school. When's it start to matter?

Klaus and Stan: Never.

 I couldn't find the cut scene of this but just in case you're curious it's from the episode:
The Adventures of Twill Ongenbone and His Boy Jabari

I'm jealous of your energy imaginary happy people.
I'm jealous of your joy despite what grade you get.
I'm jealous of your confidence in class.
I'm jealous of your leg muscles and how your knee doesn't kill you when you try to do a lunge.
I'm jealous of your eczema free hair and pearly teeth.
I'm jealous of how well you capture the human form.
I'm jealous how everything looks good on you and somehow you always seem to match your clothes and look oh so rustic chic.
I'm jealous you have your freedom on paper, in a constitution where no one owns you legally.
I'm jealous that you are so mobile and independent.
I'm jealous that you have more than one person to talk to and hang with and last but not least,
I'm jealous you can eat cheese and that it doesn't fuck with you.

Being

After a week of being sick and a good portion of that time not knowing I was sick, I feel like I'm coming to a point of anger - realization - frustration - exhaustion.
A certain quote comes to mind from a book I am reading for my yoga class "Human being vs. Human doing".

Being... I haven't been anything but stressed. I know this because my eczema which usually clears up while I'm here hasn't at all. Leaping from one thing to the next, one assignment to the next, one class to the next. I would love to get a "thank you for trying" from my teachers every once in a while. Perhaps I'm asking too much of others, to be mindful of me, when I can't even be mindful of myself.

Part of mindfulness is being alive in the moment, after all you're only alive right now. I'm beyond a novice when it comes to resisting being swept away by the tides of my emotions. All this stems from one thing and one thing alone:

My desire to achieve perfection by pleasing everyone.

When I look at that from a distance it's obviously folly. However, I jump at every opportunity to make sure someone, anyone, isn't unhappy with me. I got straight A's last semester - and you know what? It doesn't even matter because in my mind, there's a voice that tells me - that's not enough because it's just good, it's not GREAT. I know whom the voice belongs to. I know it's not mine but I can't seem to shut it out.

As a child, especially in elementary, I didn't even know what my grades were. I didn't care! I was busy being myself. Now suddenly I have something to prove. Why?

I need this like I need water.

"Here I am.. this is me.. there's no other place that I'd rather be..."

Sorry Bryan I'm gonna have to cut you off right there (Kanye Style) but I've been swimming in frustration and anxiety for a while now.

Some people say artists themselves have Love/Hate relationships with art. Well, I'm doing a lot of the HATING - right now.

Here's the ever so depressing thought process that goes through my mind:

Fuck Mondays man.. 2 classes of drawing from life back to back that total up to 8 hours of staring till your brain melts. Oh not to mention the moment I get to the awkwardly silent drawing class I get to know how wrong my hand eye co-ordination truly is. This makes me love being an artist, I mean it is the epitome of what I'm looking for in art - being wrong. Next class I get to spend more hours being wrong again!

Gouge my eyes out already. Seriously.

I love feeling like I have to be reminded that I'm not on par with people who have practiced religiously from their youth. They're miles away and I'm still here learning what perspective is for the billionth fucking time since 6th grade - but hey I'm still too dumb or blind or something to depict it with absolute perfection. Oh the memories of my teacher drawing over my work and saying "wrong wrong wrong" just don't seem to dissipate. I'm 27 years old and I'm feeling like a 12 year old.


NOT ENOUGH - let's move on further, to discuss why this is killing me. It's not about being wrong only,
no not at all, it's about being reminded that I'll never be "on par". Art has become very much representational lately. Not saying that's a bad thing.. that requires lots of skill, precision, you know the thing someone like me without an abundant amount of YOU GO GIRL juice doesn't have.

When I was in Middle School, I finally got to take Art as a class on it's own. I was so excited, it's about the only thing that kept me feeling like I don't know.. like I was good at something. To my surprise when I get there my teachers grading method was a matter of comparing who had skill and who didn't. Your effort grade was based on a number and your letter grade - well that was whether you had talent or not.
B - 1
That was my grade, no matter how much I enjoyed what I did. I would always hear him talk about the same girl over and over, and how wonderful she was. Katie this, Katie that. She was awesome, she really was, I wasn't debating that. I felt reprimanded for someone else having more skill. I was told he had to grade that way because there was no other way to grade Art.

I switched schools, things changed, I wasn't Katie yet, not until someone with more talent and skill graduated. I was still B - 1. Even after I got my A, I still feel, and will always feel like B - 1.
That's not good enough. It's not loved, it's not worthwhile, it passes, but it doesn't shine. It's just there to be dimmer than the brighter star.

I wasn't raised to think positively of all my situations. You either were the best or you were nothing. It's not healthy but every time I willingly walk to my demoralization on Mondays, I remind myself that this is my fault. I'm not squeezing enough hours in, I'm not obsessing as much as I should, i.e. every second I breathe or gasp. I was born second rate, always seen as second rate, it's only fair that no matter how hard I work on something I love, that it's still not good enough.

Stars don't stop shining because one imploded in on itself. They just don't give a fuck.

P.S. Someone give me a cat to hold.

Youtube Wonderland

My last post left me spewing verbal vomit that tends to leave you feeling mentally dehydrated. I forgot I had a blog for a while. As suggested by close friends that I try to channel my angst and emotion into Art - I brainstormed some ideas - they are not complete or in the process of being started. They will be once I get to Seattle and actually have the means of creating things. In the meantime I did what any other person would do - I dove into the magic well that is the internet and found my way to YouTube.

My most prominent YouTube guilty pleasures are as follows (in no particular order):

Pixiwoo/Pixiwoomadness/Body Talk Daily : These channels are hosted by two British Make Up Artists with accents that I feel are addicting to listen to... also I was enlightened on how to properly care for my skin when they interviewed an expert by the name of Caroline Hirons. Here is the specific video:

As much as I appreciate the knowledge Caroline offers and how opinionated she is over skin which I have a lot of respect for! - someone needs to talk to her about her hair (That's just my opinion though!!sorry!! not trying to be catty!)

Pixiwoo and Pixiwoomadness offer loads of make up tutorials and though I myself don't wear much make up aside from the special occasions - it's still so much fun watching people apply color to their faces.

Piggiepigpigs: This channel is vlogged by a British lady who owns GUINEA PIGS! and other animals such as rats and hamsters. She makes guinea pig products that are so adorable and has some of the cutest guineas I've ever seen. P.S. I could watch guinea pigs eat for hours - they are too cute.

Foodwishes: Aside from it being Ramadan here and my having to fast forcing me to look at food in a more.. mouth watering desperate manner - Chef John is fun to listen to and his recipes are simple and well explained. Plus who can truly resist looking at good food? (For my birthday I was baked the molten lava cake recipe and it was heavenly!!! THANK YOU PATRICK!)

Last but certainly not least!! The cat channels!!
Sweetfurx4 with all the exotic shorthairs and longhairs that do amazing tricks!

AND of course Mythicbells with some of the most beautiful fluffies aside from my own (BIAS)

And let's not forget Cricket!!

I leave you with these many videos which I hope entertain you even the slightest bit. I realize many of these may come off as a girly choice but WHATEVER <3 it comes with love.

Hope you all have a nice day!

I hate both of you.

I had to sleep on this one which was hard considering my mind was racing - I was angry. (yay my favorite place!!! not really)

I have discussed this in sorts in a prior blog and also through my art in someways. This being the topic of being multicultural or in the middle.

I'm not going to sit here and say I know how everyone in the world feels to a T but I know how I feel about being stuck in the middle of something. I am a middle child, I'm also the only girl within my siblings, and I have been in the middle of my parents battles all my life.

Now I face another reality - being from the Middle East and in the middle of the East vs. West battle.
How am I in the middle you ask? I'm sure you're all going to be surprised that I would even think that!
You don't hate me - you just dislike the bad guys right? -The "bad" guys are either side.

Let me get this out there once and for all: I am Arabic, I will always be Arabic, until I turn to dust I still will be Arabic and I am proud of that. I wasn't raised to be violent, and gracious white western hands of purity did NOT bless me with the ability to think for myself or seek freedom of mind and choice.

Freedom - is not a western ideal. Freedom is a human ideal. No one in this world is allowed to take that away from me and to label it as East or West or Religion based or lack of.

Yesterday a Norwegian girl was arrested in Dubai after reporting a rape. I don't understand the details of the story and I do not believe she should have been arrested. Regardless of the logistics of this case - be it the blatantly discriminatory laws within the Middle East or the lack of understanding of what life in the Middle East is like, what gets me the most is the comments, and the remarks that you get from both sides when the sparring begins.

OH MY GOD. It makes me boil.

Another example was this documentary that I couldn't even start to watch on modern day slavery in Dubai - because I couldn't get past the youtube comments.

I am in no way or shape making excuses for how horrible conditions are. They are terrible, awful, and no one should be subjected to them. But like a beaten housewife if you choose to stay, and you know your husband is going to beat you - you're not helping the situation.

I'm tired of seeing comments like this:

Arabs are mean people
I hate Arabs
You guys are rich and you don't deserve your money!
Your laws are terrible and you must be terrible!
I hope you all die
vs
Islam keeps people clean
We have less STD's because of less promiscuity!
We have better rights for women
Get out of our country!
You are filthy and with no morals!

There's a million versions of each of those of course.

How am I supposed to feel, like I'm excluded from all that? What have I as an individual done - to inherit all this hatred from people I don't know and will more than likely never know?

I like Westerners, I appreciate the expats that have come to the Middle East to work and to educate me in a different language. I've made many close western friends and consider some family. As for being perfect?...

How about my third grade teacher who took a Somali kid out of class, told him to take off his shoes and sprayed Air Refresher in his shoes because he said they smelled bad. Funny no one else in the class thought that they smelled bad.

Or how about how I have to be humiliated through airports or embassies? I'm your friend right? An ally? Is this how friends are treated?

As for the East Asians who are mistreated:

How about the Indian men who have either groped me here and there while I was at a store when I was 14 years old? I know conditions of living are horrible but does that really warrant my ass being grabbed while I'm looking at toys?
None of this is made up - I wish it were. I'm such a mean Arab I never got that person deported.

And As for Arabs:

I've been groped, hit on by 12 years old boys, aggressively treated by 15 year old boys, bullied by Qatari girls, discriminated against because my family is Shi'a. We're all just so peaceful and loving in our culture. Families dictating what each others lives should be but not actually living through the pain of an individual.
Laws that can't be changed, that are dictated through a majority of a religion which you have to be BY LAW - the list goes on.

Here's my biggest question - as supposed educators and advocates of peace why is that so many continue to spread the hate instead of actually educating and not force feeding your own ideals on to people? (Directed at all people by the way).
You want to be peaceful and fair - be the peace you seek to preach.
If you treat someone like crap, and you tell them they're crap, do you really think they are going to miraculously rise to the occasion and be happy with you - and treat you well? There aren't many people in the world like that.

Last but not least - if you hate being in the Middle East so bad stop being bought and boycott. Many come here for a "better" life - the Middle East is by far nowhere near perfect. Are your countries perfect? Why aren't you working there? Easy to point your fingers at people from a different background but not at your own government now isn't it?

You should know from the get go when you get a visa and read the laws to BE CAREFUL.
I of all people know the laws are merciless and scrutinizing. How on earth do you think I feel?
I can't even make the slightest changes to these rules. So do me a god damn favor, leave me and those like me out of this bickering. Both sides are at fault. BOTH OF THEM. Both are just as self entitled
But guess who always gets hurt? The people in the middle, we're just stuck in the crossfire.

So yes in the end you get what you wanted which is apparently more hatred - I hope you're happy.
You reap what you sow.

Here's to cattiness - and its dysfunction

I think Tori Amos said it best in her song "Cornflake girl":

"And the man with the golden gun 

thinks he knows so much"

So much about what you ask? The female feud.

This topic actually is something I feel I should have addressed a while ago while I had sources from my history class in college. I would probably present a better argument.

 Let's cut to the chase:
Women have struggled in getting equal rights to men for a long time and of course still continue to struggle horribly in different places around the world.

There's 2 sides within the female world:
Women who believe that they should be treated equally to men regardless of circumstance.
Women who believe that their difference or (feminine mystique) gives them a perspective men do not have and therefore should have power/equality in regards to that.

There's a million factors that you can go over that will discern that an either or tactic of each side is not going to work in bringing equality to women.
I believe women should be treated like human beings and not cattle. The "gift of life" is not a gift all women want to bear (which I respect)- and for those that do it is a responsibility and a job believe it or not - that is paid for in what?
I'm not saying women aren't thankful for their children just saying that in many ways it can be a thankless job and one that can go unappreciated in today's society.

I don't want to get into the whole feminine debate though - I want to address how women .. tend to be less sisterly.  Quite frankly I don't get it - maybe it's because lots of girls want to be princesses when they are young or because it's hammered in their heads or something. It's competitive from the get go - the prettiest, the girl who has the most pink, the girl with the best shoes, barbies, you name it the list goes on.
Then it's the girls who think they are tough and are tomboys and don't like princesses and blablablablah

CAT FIGHT!!! 

From my past experiences none of the cattiness has ever been over anything substantial. It's almost always territorial, a form of asserting dominance - or a huge cry for someone to love them for who they are. It's funny that all this bickering between ourselves isn't helping us achieve anything in reality. We all have individual goals in the end - that doesn't mean we have to stomp on another's dream of having a tiara or being able to punch someone in the face. (I want both by the way.)

VS

I have very few female friends - for that reason alone. It is so hard for it to not become petty so quickly. WHY!?!! WHY DOES IT HAVE TO BE LIKE THIS?!! GROW THE FUCK UP!!!! OH MY FUCKING GOD!!

If I have to be born with ovaries and have to deal with this crap from other women my goodness it makes me wonder if it is a lot less catty being a man.

Can we have a "brocode" of our own? PLEASE?! Someone needs to referee this madness. I am getting too old for this stupidity to be a part of it. I don't think all girls are territorial I think there are some of us that are tossed to the side like fodder. None the less united we stand divided we fall...channel some of that cattiness into fighting for something important.

What's the opposite of Hiatus?

I wish my brain could go on hiatus - yeesh..
I'm back! ready to preach and give lessons on life.. and then RANT. RANT RANT  RANT...

Sometimes I feel like my brain is someone who just doesn't listen to me. .. I think I need to clarify somethings and maybe this is just for me more than anyone else:

I don't want to be an unhappy person but truth be told there are a lot of things in life that seem to drag me in that direction.

 If I come off as someone who is trying to drag everyone else with me or looking for pity - I'm not. Honestly I just wanted to express myself in some way since all other ways lately have felt like another place for frustration and judgement.

That being said the internet isn't exactly void of that -

It's hard being angry, frustrated and depressed. It's not a choice unless you glamorize it. I hope I'm not!
I hate it, it's exhausting but I am very unhappy with who I am right now and where my life is.
I'm unhappy that I'm unhappy and boy is that a loop you don't want to be stuck in.

When I'm home with my family and in my country it is near impossible to not have your patience tested.
I live in a house that looks more like a circus or an episode of hoarders waiting to go on air.

Don't believe me?
Here's proof:

The only place where a ballerina, a baby, and a creepy porcelain Arab man would exist is in this house.. I'm sure someone can disprove me eventually but for now humor me please.


Politics are on fire in this region - everyone against everyone. Then there's Ramadan holy month of starve yourself to death from sunrise till sunset then BINGE like a fatty in between. I swear some of the sweets that are served during this month would kill a diabetic in an instant.
Last but not least there is the service provided by my country in which you have to lose your inner Buddha just so you can get something basic - like better internet installed in your house. 1 month for them to just set up an appointment.. and yeap omg.. I don't even want to go there.

The chlorinated water is agitating my scalp.. my sinuses are in bad shape, I feel fat, I feel out of shape, and like an anomaly in this house. It feels like my parents are ashamed of me and I am quite ashamed of myself.  Not in a good place right now - my saving grace is a few people who really care about me and video games.

I wish art could be in the group of saviors but honestly it feels like a reminder of how little people care about me and how far behind I am.

This is where I am at - I don't want to be here, I don't mean to off put people into thinking I'm not fun or that I don't want to have fun and be happy. I love having conversations with people they don't always have to be about this crap or my baggage.

Look! KITTENS!

What might have been & What is.

What if's are a wormhole of questions leading you right back to your initial what if question.
What if I were raised differently? What if things went smoothly when I was growing up?
What if my parents truly loved each other? What if -

All that spattering of daydreams can feel good when you start to think about it but it will leave you hurt and disappointed in the end - because all you really wanted to get out of those self imposed inquiries is hope that maybe you could be something more than what you are now.  When you come back to reality you don't always take into account how much you are worth.

Does this make any sense? Probably not! But you'll get back to me I'm sure when the time comes. I hope at least. Which brings me to another point - Feedback and dialog are things that I feel I miss out on.

Growing up as a girl in one of the wealthiest countries in the world beckons the preconceived notion that I am in some ways a "Princess". True royalty would beg to differ. My self esteem would beg to differ as well.
To quote Depeche Mode "the lord himself would blush." 

There is also this assumption that I am happy that I am different. It's a silver lining - but also a noose. Everyone has a unique circumstance that shapes them into who they are today. One of my teachers left me a note in my yearbook saying "The road less traveled is a lonely one." He nailed it. 

Not much was ever expected of me because I am girl. I'm a woman now and I feel like I'm walking that silver lining like I'm part of a  circus act. 

This week has been particularly hard on me. I have never felt like a stranger in my own house - I have never felt like an outsider to my family to this degree. I know this is another growing pain but in my mind it leaves me homeless. Although I do I have a home - it isn't a place - it is a person. In that persons absence I am anxious and hollow. 

I'm not quite sure where I'm going with this blog. Honestly I think I'm just looking for more vocalized support. I know I'm not 3 but that pat on the back that you get when you succeed, I never got that when I was younger. I begged for it from people outside my family. My art and this blog are the few places where I try to reach out to others. 

I leave a lot of projects unfinished when I feel I can't start a dialog with anyone about them. With the contrast of school and criticism over constructive criticism it literally makes me want to kill myself. That won't solve anything though. 

Also I would like to thank those of you who do support me and follow my blog. You will not go unappreciated in my book. 

To start a dialog of some sort with my work - so that I can actually .. feel like I'm making something worthwhile with art instead of digging my "uniqueness" into a grave; I am going to post some pictures of unfinished paintings and I would like some feedback - but make it constructive not just sledgehammering ok? 

P.S. some of these are old - like 1-2 years old and unfinished.

This piece is inspired by an old drawing I did in High School with Watercolor Pencil and withering flowers. 

Hair as you might have known from a previous blog post is an inspiration for me. It is part of my cultural upbringing and I did have a yard long braid at some point. I try use hair as an extension of emotion. This applies also to the painting below.

The second painting was in response to my growing love of origami cranes. This painting is incomplete till this day. I am somewhat afraid of finishing it to be quite frank. I enjoy the airiness of the colors an the white. I am curious if anyone knows an artist that uses oils but creates complete and "simplistic" portraits. 

Now.. please say something

Your Mug My Mug - MY MUG

Is it just me or is the feeling of dust or dusty paper just horrible on the finger tips and even more so when your nails are longer?!!!

OMG I HATE IT SO MUCH!!!! REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!

I had to clip my nails short after that it was just awful .. AWFUL!!!! and that is exactly why I hate charcoal people! I have to soak my hands in a tub of pure lard before I use charcoal. *shivers*

Aside from that confession right there.. I have another confession to make. My name is F@%!m@ @[ K)(uZ@e! and I am a coffee cup ... cOllectHoArder. Now I stopped buying so many cups once I graduated High School and ended my obsession with my horoscope. Yes I have more than 4 cups with Pisces symbols on them. Don't judge me! Or I will retaliate with a Sailor Neptune mug...

That being said.. I have always had a certain place in my heart for a few mugs I grew up with.. which my mom has buried under her bigger collection of mugs that I cannot compete with for the life of me. It makes me sad inside.. seeing my raccoon cup covered in dust.. in the back of some cupboard I dare not reach out of fear of ...roaches..

                                                                 



It has taken me at least an hour to get this blog post finished.. THANK YOU DROP BOX!! YOU HAPPY NOW!?
Well while I wait I have a small piece of advice I feel I have to say now before I forget:

Dear Below25YearOlds who just picked up a book and read it and now think you know the meaning of life and that you've figured it all out:

BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH HAHAH OMG HAHAHAHA and here comes the tough love bitch slap - trust me it's much better coming from me than a real life reality check.

Stop worrying about "nothing" and what I mean by that is planning your life and when you "want" or "think" things should happen. Live your life and you will know when things will happen.
Everything at 22 felt like the end of the world to me. Really - I gained a pound snowballs to I'm going to be alone and nobody loves me. Don't you dare backtrack my blog and bring up my daddy issues! This is different -

Where has all the self entitlement come from? At my school I feel because many assume I'm 19 like them that their talent is somehow a god given right for them to criticize my work without actually critiquing it.
Whether you have a witty title for your piece or you are truly talented - you have no right what so ever to lord over anyone. This isn't mean girls the sequel - it's an Art School, people are here to learn not be in awe of your sour puss perspective of the world. Oh and just because you are good that also doesn't mean you can't learn anything from those you consider beneath you.

Growing up is a long process and it comes with many pains and disappointments - that doesn't mean there isn't a light at the end of the tunnel. There is - it's called acceptance. Now for fucks sake don't take this personally at all and just enjoy your ice cream while it doesn't make you fat faster <3

Ok dropbox you ready? ......................

BAM!!! 

From left to right - Simba Cup, Meloni Cup and Panda Cup!!!!

The Simba cup I have used for a few years now, and it is my favorite cup as of late.. The Meloni cup and Panda are recently bought by my mother.. I'm bringing these with me to Seattle.. I hope..
I know we came back around to coffee mugs but seriously how could I not share my sickness with you?
I had a nightmare about not finding my Simba cup so the next day which in my terms means when I wake up at about 8pm at night, I decided to look for it immediately. Coffee and Chai Karak have never been more satisfying.

I now leave you with another on going obsession - cat videos:

Stand Still

So this is the start of my being here:
Allergies, Cold, Lack of Computer, Lack of energy, Heavily Chlorinated Water, Bad Customer Service, a Bathroom that refuses to function and last but not least Roaches.

All that including my dysfunctional family with it's many convoluted problems that would only make sense in a  soap opera.

It's only been 6 months since I left before and honestly - I don't think that was long enough of a break from this place. I'm back and truth be told I already want to leave. I don't know how I did it for 4 years.

For the first time ever home has not felt like home. I've had the same bedroom for years and even my bed doesn't feel the same. My anxiety level apparently shot up more because yesterday my forearms were hurting  which has never happened before.

I've been avoiding seeing my extended family for sometime now. If my own father thinks I'm fat I can only imagine what his bitchy witchy sisters think of me. If their hawk eyes land on you prepare to be gazed upon and judged oh but don't worry - it's only out of love for you that they do this - No really! it's love! because they never call you, agree with you, spend time with you, or have anything to do with you on their own accord until you allow yourself to be their pawn.

Not all my aunts are like this - only the ones from my paternal side of the family. Oh pssh don't judge me for talking smack about them behind their backs! Gossip is their specialty. It's a thing here you know, in the land of dust,wind and "black gold". "Everybody knows everybody" and everybody talks smack about everyone else. Rumors spread like wildfire and if you're female your life is over and if you're male.. there's a chance for redemption and forgiveness.

Men get a lot of flack for being the oppressors of the females within the Middle East. I hate to say it but they aren't the only culprits. Women themselves would back stab each other, gossip and destroy one another just as malevolently as a man would oppress here. Cattiness is a sport. Old women definitely take part as well.

I'm sure many of you who have been reading my blog lately have noticed that I have become quite inflamed with rage lately. I'm not asking you to agree with it or be engulfed by it. I do apologize if it is becoming redundant. This place leaves me stumped in that anger and it's easy for me to get halted.

It's only been a week and I feel mentally and physically exhausted and stressed. I have to pull out at least another month. Wish me luck. Oh and I know many tell me that I should use my art as a way to soothe my frustration. I will be honest Art has not had the same place in my heart for a long time now. As a teenager and during my early college years I really was living and breathing it.

I'm not inspired. It depresses me to admit that - it makes me question my very purpose when I say it too. I'm mad if anything. I don't believe in my art the same way I used to. "I can always be replaced or forgotten - and I will never be trendy or accepted enough to ever get any acclaim." Those are my truest and most honest feelings. I want to break free of them and convince myself I can do great things but in a place where you are so small and feel so small, how big can you truly be with your beliefs? I feel all I'm doing is jumping hurdles and I never get a chance to look back and see how far I've come.

By the time I do look back, it feels like it's already too late to celebrate it. The joy had just slipped away like a fleeting moment.

WAAAAAAAAAAAAH WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH cry me a river.

Here you go -
Kittens..

Home Sweet Home.....

I have crossed the Ocean to return to my desert palace within the Arabian Peninsula. My people welcome me with warm hospitality and in respect of my return have a new open perspective of who I have become... ahh yes that's... a fantasy.

Within the first oh I don't know 10 mins of my being back I was promptly reminded of what made Qatar what it was and why I left. Distance has a tendency to make you feel like so much has changed and that you missed out on so much. That can be a load of crap when it comes to Doha Qatar.

My dad picked me up from the airport. There has been a minor dust storm taking place. As we were driving out of there we realized the person driving ahead of us towards the exit did not pay for his ticket  and therefore could not move past the barrier that is activated by scanning your ticket receipt. So in traditional Qatari fashion my dad drove over the sidewalk to the next machine so we can get out of there - aaaaaaand we're back.

I went on home to give my parents their gifts and of course drifted between insomnia and jet lag until the next morning. My cats were weirded out by my return but they remembered me quickly. Thankfully I know how to break the ice with all of them. The fact that Meloni is no longer with us though did feel awkward as she always has been the go to cat for comic relief and a true warm welcome to the house.

Jet lag is a killer. My ankles were swollen, I was bloated, and thanks to the dust storm outside and inside our house my allergies kicked in full throttle. The childish fantasy I had in my mind of being appreciated and respected completely melted away the next morning.  I tried to have a small conversation with my dad - they are always awkward as we don't have the greatest of relationships. 

Midway through the conversation he goes "btw Fatima" I was like oh here it comes - a compliment, or a good question in which I could answer with expertise and precision - "You should work out because you have a huge belly." I couldn't believe that came out of his mouth. I still can't. He never gave me crap over my weight before so this really felt like an invasion of privacy. 

My first day back destroyed with a sentence. 

Any of you who have known me in person previously to 2007 would have known that at some point I went through a phase of "mild" anorexia. I haven't really talked about this because for the longest time I didn't believe it was that at all. I thought I was just being healthy - my body begged to differ and so did my lowest weight point of 92lbs. Even the doctors at the time shrugged it off and said that I was just a tiny person - it wasn't a problem that I had 900 calorie daily diet and that I ran for 45 mins at 4 am every morning. Somedays I would eat a bagel and just drink water all day. I felt further enabled when I got more compliments for looking good. 

When I look in the mirror today I find myself fighting the urge to torture myself over my body. This is the first time in years that I've felt like my legs were strong and that I have built some form of muscle mass.

 I am not looking for a pity fest over my struggle with food - I feel it is necessary to be honest about who I am and was. As hurtful as it was to hear that my father thinks I'm fat despite the fact remains that a good portion of it was bloating and water retention. I'm sure he and others feel the need to judge my body's desire to be healthy as fatness. I am not fat - even if I feel that way when I look in the mirror.

Maybe it was his way of saying welcome home?

p.s. on a side note I currently do not have a pc and am using my ipad as a laptop - so if this blog seems a bit long and delayed it's because I had to muster the mental strength to type it all out on a tiny keyboard. 

You know this boogie is for REAL

SURPRISE!!!

My layover is about 7 hours long at the NYC airport. YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY ME!!!. Ugh. 

I have to wake up at 3:30 am, get ready for my shuttle which will arrive at 4:30 - catch my 7 am flight, make it there 3:30 and then wait ... till 11 pm at night - for a 12 hour flight.  I'm so stoked!!

Anyway what's done is done. As I only have so much money left in my bank account. I have decided that I am going to tumble for 7 hours or at least until my eyes bleed. What other choice do I have? so since that rant is out of the way - I self soothed with some music on youtube. Ever heard some interesting covers of songs you wouldn't expect to sound nice?

Well Scrubs has enlightened me to this version of "Hey Ya". The original version was the song I walked off the stage to during my graduation. The Blanks rendition of this song is so sweet I'm considering it for my wedding song. Too Janitor and Lady like you say??????! perhaps!

Another cover I just stumbled into today is of "Gangnam Style" I know there's about a billion of them and some are really good too but this one feels sweet and sexy? I don't know but give it a listen:

And last but not least this isn't a cover but I dedicate to my friend Candice who just got a new job and probably wants to dance too!

Plus she already posted this on her facebook and I just want to remind her how cool she is for knowing this artist and song:

AND NOW BACK TO MY MANY DISTRACTIONS!! WEEEEEEEEEEEEE

A little Salt

The days are rolling towards my departure on the 10th. The nerves haven't subsided yet. I can't wait to be able to take my anti anxiety pills on the plane.
The shopping for gifts has been going swell except for my empty wallet haha. All that's left is an order of twinkies and a few things here and there... last minute requests came in for some dresses.
I WILL TRY!
Still neurotically waiting for my dad's cheese making supplies - I still need to be cheese curds before I leave.
Don't worry I haven't forgotten myself - tokidoki unicorno! MINECRAFT SHIRT!!! (let your inner geek shine)  ('A')/ .

... but all this is just distraction.

I've been hung up on Bon Iver's Skinny Love for the past few days. It's a sad song but most times I enjoy it happily today however it finally dawned me why it's been ringing in my head.

For the longest time I've felt crushed over my relationship with my region of the world and it's landmine mountain of problems.

I am proud of being Arabic. It may not be in the same way other Arabs are and it's difficult feeling like that's okay. Six months ago I was struggling at home with my family and cultural barriers - be it how the Middle East is in complete turmoil politically and religiously. I long for the day where we can just set aside so many of our differences and just celebrate how beautiful our region of the world really is.

There's so much money being exchanged for life - paper is worth more than a human life. Excuses made by all sect leaders to kill others. Life being limited, everything becoming sin. It's no wonder some people take their lives a long with others. I don't know the pain of those living in a war zone. I pray I never do. My country is walking a thin line of being the Middle Man. In the end it will bit in the ass.

At times I've felt like we're just in the calm before the storm. We take for granted that "nothing" serious happens in Qatar. We don't always know what goes on. We're living blind and just dealing with adversity of bad decisions be it lack of specialist doctors, medicine, decent roads, decent drivers, in what's supposedly the richest country in the world. The politics are really out of our hands. We just have to keep our mouths shut, heads down and keep on consuming products and pretending that the loudmouth behavior of our male youth and the overly pampered nature of our females is normal. Who am I though? if I speak I'm sure I'll just get talked back to - there's always someone loud enough, or in power enough to shut someone like me up. Also as always "I'm not Arab enough".

I want to contribute to the Middle East in a different way. Not through flaunting money, or a boisterous attitude that many Khaleeji people seem to think defines them. Arrogance and self entitlement doesn't earn you respect. However I can say I'm not the representative they want despite the fact that I do in fact love my home. I told myself I'd do it anyway through art. I hope that I'll someday have some kind of positive effect in the Middle East.

So:

 Come on skinny love just last the year

Pour a little salt we were never here
My, my, my, my, my, my, my, my
Staring at the sink of blood and crushed veneer

I tell my love to wreck it all
Cut out all the ropes and let me fall
My, my, my, my, my, my, my, my
Right in the moment this order's tall

And I told you to be patient
And told you to be fine
And I told you to be balanced
And I told you to be kind
In the morning I'll be with you
But it will be a different "kind"
I'll be holding all the tickets
And you'll be owning all the fines

Come on skinny love what happened here
Suckle on the hope in lite brassiere
My, my, my, my, my, my, my, my
Sullen load is full; so slow on the split

And I told you to be patient
And I told you to be fine
And I told you to be balanced
And I told you to be kind
And now all your love is wasted?
And then who the hell was I?
And now I'm breaking at the britches
And at the end of all your lines

Who will love you?
Who will fight?
Who will fall far behind?

Eclectic Flood

I slept horribly last night. Right before I passed out my mind began to race with thoughts about my trip back home.
I have things to look forward to of course but I am nervous and horribly anxious. My last minute shopping sprees for gifts today exemplify my anxiety some.

My list of gifts is quite interesting some of the requests might shock you a little:

Cheese making supplies - (this was a long list I caved in and ordered them over the phone. I just hope I get them quick enough before I leave. I asked for a speedy delivery! here's to hoping!!!!)

A Coffee mug from the original starbucks

Tootsie rolls - lots of them

And last but not least .. TWINKIES.

Now the last one I'm somewhat struggling with.. rite aid didn't have any? that was shocking.  Also twinkie is a dangerous word to input into tumblr. Fair warning! ..COUGHBRONIPORNCOUGH

I just overdosed on some Whitman's Sampler cheap chocolate and am listening to Daft Punk's new album which is sexy btw. I bought a Rolling Stone magazine because they were on the cover. I don't know why I think they look like they would smell nice. I know.. I'm weird. But seriously they're wearing suits - if you wear a suit you are required to smell like fresh cologne.

I never ever want to meet them without their helmets. I'm sure they would prefer it that way anyway to keep their identities concealed. I've seen them without the helmets but still. I like their robot personas.

TANGENT I KNOW but I feel there's too much peacocking lately. Especially with women.


ANYWAY I must return to watching cats and guinea pigs on youtube. IT'S SO FLUFFY I COULD DIE!!!

Come Back

Seattle Summer is alluring and peaceful. I don't think anyone can argue that the sunny days we've had recently are a mood swing for the better. Although I am leaving in about 5 days to melt in Qatar I've enjoyed myself through May and indulged in many a simple joys of life.

Today I decided to trim my tresses as they were starting to look more mop like than the flowing locks of ink I like to imagine my hair being. As I spoke to my hairdresser and accidentally showed her a text I sent someone stating that I was tired of waiting for my appointment.. WHOOPS!  hahaha she was nice enough to continue conversing with me and complimenting my hair color. How often does black hair get compliments right?!! that made me happy. So did the haircut!

 

I then meandered to Mud Bay to buy some gifts for my cats. I'm hoping to cheer them up since they lost a friend recently.

After that I gave away my nationality at an Egyptian Deli where the woman was stunned at my pronunciation of  the dish "Koshari" - "what did you say?" ...I looked her -"Koshari?" ...she mumbled quietly (in arabic) "where are you from?" I feel like I just gave away my secret identity haha

I have to shop for ingredients of cheese sometime soon.. that should be interesting! then it's light packing and hooooome ... however between you and me - home is where the heart is and I know where my heart is.

The Exception to the Rule - RIP Melons

I know I haven't written in a while and this is not how I mean't to be inspired but this has to be done.
My cat Meloni passed away two days ago and I wasn't told till I called my family to ask them what was going on at home.

My mother explained to me that the day before Meloni's passing she was energetic and happy. She had just been groomed and was enjoying her day.
The next evening they found her in the litter box room dead on the floor for no reason at all. I am assuming she died of old age as I had no idea when I found her how old she was.

I found Meloni looking like this:

Hardly the most pleasant moment in her life. She was a sweet cat the moment I met her. She was horribly sick and had a fear of flies. I wasn't ready to take her indoors till I had taken her to the vet however to my surprise the most reluctant family member I had was the first to let Meloni and her brother Simba into the house. I knew things were going to be different with her. I named her Melon-i because of her color. I felt her color resembled that of a melon. I always picked serious names for my cats but she was something else.

On her first trip to the vet Meloni soiled herself horribly. Simba sharing the same box as her tried to escape. It was quite the fiasco taking her to the vet as she almost always did that. I've never had to deal with a cat like that before but I was determined to get her feeling better.

After a month Meloni started to look so much better

She became more social, more vocal, and just the happy cat I love to think about when I want a laugh.
She loved her treats, and would beat any other cat to the race of getting the first one. She talked A LOT!
I could have an entire conversation with her.

She overcame a lot of hardships in her life and she was still the friendliest of all my cats. Never shy when new people walked into the house, Meloni was always the first to welcome them in. She also would allow them to pet her.

Needless to say everyone had something good to say about Meloni and everyone loved her. I'm so sad to know she is gone. I couldn't even be there to say goodbye to her. I wish I could have been there. I'm always going to see her at my door with her back arched and her tail playing. I will always hear her voice meowing at me questioningly.

R I P Melons

I will miss your voice

I will miss your prance

I will miss your sneezes in my face

I will miss how you chase my older brother because you think he'll give you treats

I will miss how welcoming you are to everyone

I will miss how you ram your head into tables

I will miss how you would fall off the couch while you were sleeping

I will miss seeing you hide in the most awkward spots in my room

I will miss how you played with your food more than your toys

I will miss watching you play with your Nephew and Sister in Law Hassna

Most of all I will miss loving you for being the first cat I owned to sway my family into loving you. 

You are the exception to the rule!

P.S. you didn't ruin my video for me - you totally stole the show:

BFA sparks

This post is a response the Cornish College of the Arts Art and Design BFA show

 (oh god I just put a piece if IcyHot Balm on my tongue thinking it was a piece of bread from my breakfast... FUCK YOU KEYBOARD gawd.. fuck *spit spit spit*)

Walking through the galleries I had many mixed feelings, some of my own insecurity and some of pure epiphanies and some of pure suffocation due to the smell of sweat, booze, and unshowered beings maneuvering in such a small space.

There were some pieces that truly stood out for me and spoke to me on a personal level - that's not discredit some amazing pieces that were just amazing !!! just - AMAZING.

Let me speak about the ones that got me thinking:

Looking Up by Jo Fitzgibbon

Part of Jo's presentation was writing on a wall to enable you to connect with other people.
So for example the word "Love" was posted on the wall and you were to use one word to describe how you feel about love.

Love - if I were to describe love it would be "Safe"
What I mean by that is, you should feel safe in love, love shouldn't harm you and if it does - it's not love?
I'm sure people have a different perspective of this but when it comes to myself and my experiences I need love to be that safe place instead of the turbulent one I live in already. Calling my self hazing love or other people's controlling fantasies love is a sham to me.

Moving on to the next couple of pieces would be the array of many portraits done by various artists:

I love portraits. I find them to be very expressive and how generic does that sound? Well they are damn it! I mean lots of things can be emotive too not just the face but...... FACE!!!

I have been enamored by portraits for a longtime as I have indulged in making many self portraits in previous years.

I've only done two this year which is very little for me - my original intent was to do a watercolor color portrait a day (yes that is where I got the idea for my title from).

While talking to a friend last night about portraiture I realized something that's been eating away at me since school ended: "I am not in a place of self love right now". I'm also in complete anxiety over seeing my family this summer.

Someone once asked me if narcissism was the reason I painted self portraits. This question always rings in my head and not because I believe it's true but rather because a part of me wishes it were true. It may not be evident but I do have a bit of social anxiety. When I am in public I feel extremely self conscious to the point that I am afraid of others and what they think of me. From what I wear, to the pores on my face, to the hairs on my body - I put myself under a microscope that then morphs into a kaleidoscope of "imperfections" that I slowly but surely use to eat away at my happiness.

I've been taught by the best, I've been taught by the penetrating gaze of Arabs to check my flaws. People say the  the Abaya is supposed to hide your body so you aren't judged by it. If not by the eyes of men then by the eyes of women it shall be judged!

There is a specific person in my life who I love very much but I can't bring myself to out. This person really notices every little flaw on me and tells me. I know they only try to mean well by it but I have suffered in silence because of this. Love should be safe. Love should be safe! It shouldn't drive you to want to starve yourself to feel loved. It shouldn't shame you if a part of your body changes overtime. Love should feel so safe - it can't be love if it isn't safe.

Looking at myself is hard. It's not easy because I see it all at once, the pores, the hairs, the weight, the flaws all the flaws. It's a continuous avalanche of reminders that I am Arab, that my flaws are unwanted, that I have so many, that I have to keep working at them or else - I will not be enough.
Portraits helped me look at myself even when I felt unworthy of love. They taught me to look at myself in a different way aside from pores, hairs, and scars. They taught me to try and love myself for what I am in whatever moment.

Love is safe.