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.

The Mane

Time for a cultural lesson:

In the Arabian gulf long hair is considered a mark of beauty for a woman. The longer the better - and the straighter the better. You can imagine straight hair isn't always common in the Middle East as genetics have made our hair coarse and heat resistant. Now some are seemingly blessed with the sought after softness that Arab women literally burn their hair off to attain. At that point it seems like some kind of godly blessing that you have soft straight hair.

Hair plays a major role in the cultural dance as well - and yes the women literally:

THANK YOU WILLOW WE'VE BEEN DOING IT BEFORE YOUR SONG CAME OUT! JUST SAYING!

As of recent developments it seems women also favor lighter hair. My mother keeps on insisting I had "red" hair when I was baby. In actuality I had very dark brown hair - and in some parts of my hair those strands of brownie brunette hopes and dreams she fantasized about are still there. I imagine part of this perspective came about when more westerners came to the Middle East and they seemed more exotic to the Arabs.

 My mother has soft hair - but it's by no means fine hair (and in my personal opinion her and I have the same hair type). According to her my older brother and younger brother inherited "the good hair" from her. As their hair was super soft, straight, and shiny when they were younger. I apparently inherited "the bad curly coarse hair" from my dad. On a side note my parents like to associate the good things with themselves and the bad things with one another.

I've grown my hair to be quite long through Middle-School and High School. At one point it was past my knees - and standing at 5'1 and half I would say that's a lot of hair. It wasn't much fun to groom or find in your underwear OR clean off your rug. So I gradually started to cut it shorter - first half off which still kept it long and it grew very quickly. Then I decided it was time to let it all go and go for a bob. You can imagine my mother wasn't exactly happy about that decision. Something along the lines of "Your husband should decide if you should cut your hair or not." and I was 18 - like that was going to sink in or make me change my mind. 

DAMN STRAIGHT 

IT FUELED THE FIRE

First you insult my hair then you tell me I can't cut it? WTF!

love you mommy!

When I went to college I went super short

 Then of course came the many hairstyles I got. Straight, curly etc etc... till one day a friend of mine said "I don't know why you bother to straighten your hair, people here go crazy trying to get your waves and curls."

As an homage to my friend I will post a photo she took of me at Cornish years ago while I was working on my Foundations/Core show:

Thank you Kirsten Anderson for allowing me to appreciate my textured hair. If there's one thing I've never changed about my hair it would be the color - I know my hair isn't jet black but it reminds me of the color of ink and the calligraphy I grew up with. It is part of my heritage and genetic make up.

I will embrace it for exactly what it is!

A little bit of everything.

Feeding the Monster

It's time to get to the gritty - not necessarily with anger but with truth.
Powerlessness is something I abhor feeling - more than anything. More than being alone, and more than fear it debilitates me, in fact I would go as far as saying it fuels the fire of all those emotions I struggle with in my day to day life.

I know I'm not unique to this situation and I know many suffer this frustration in silence. I've tried to find ways to empower myself by looking online and finding motivational quotes or self help. Let me stop you right there if you're thinking about it - I don't want to say it's all crap but I'm going to say IT'S ALL CRAP.

For myself - I feel I more than likely misunderstood it and took it the wrong way or it just came from a perspective that I don't necessarily appreciate. Let me explain to you what I'm talking about:

I know I've been out of shape for a while and that's okay I've had my reasons but I decided that I would look up this "Insanity" workout craze which I honestly do believe to be just a phase of marketing that will end in about a year. Regardless I want to workout, I want to feel good and I want to feel stronger. I'm looking for a sense of stability within myself.
I started to watch the introduction to the video and a few quotes stood out to me:

"Even people who were fit could not keep up with this workout! It's only for the strong willed"
"People who were brought on to the program were tested and we weeded out those who tried to be lazy" (of course while they showed this part they filmed an Indian man struggling to coordinate)
"This workout is not for the lazy - so if you feel that way GO HOME."

Motivating isn't it? It makes you just want to go start running a marathon doesn't it? You wanna be soooo hardcore don't you?

I'm sure you've also debated with yourself and said stuff like "What are you a pussy? You aren't a whiny little pussy are you?!" and that's going to work until the day you are sick, or tired, or injured and you can't a workout then what happens? Then you realize you fed the wrong furnace and before you know it you continue to feed that same fire that you're petrified of overtaking you. 

I'm sure Shaun T wants the best for you fitness wise (nope probably just wants to fill his pockets) but don't bully yourself to get where you need to go. Push yourself by all means do so and don't give up but always remember in the end you're doing this to love yourself, because you deserve it! you deserve to feel good.

You can throw out all the trolling shit like "oh you're being overly sensitive" but honestly when you talk to a little impressionable child like this: "IF YOU'RE FEELING LAZY GO HOME!" do you honestly think they're going to be motivated? "This is ONLY FOR THE TOUGH PEOPLE" i.e. only for a select few - you can't be included. 

Reverse psychology might work on some but I'm just pointing out something I feel is important - be aware of what you're saying to yourself and whether you're being helpful or hurtful. I've been there and I know I've been hurtful to myself. 

Here's a little tune to help you ponder this too:

Oh Youtube! You did it again!

After an attempt a 6 minute attempt at an insanity cardio workout followed by another 17 mins of a butchered insanity ab workout - with the possibility of agitating my knee (WOOHOO) I decided to put on  my big girl high waist capris to further shrink my non-elongated torso. I'm bringing my geek on.

As school has come to an end and now I feel an emptiness in my time and my wallet. What is a girl like me to do? With the absence of my fuzzies I cannot commence in training them to do tricks...hmmmmm
WELL HELLO YOUTUBE.

I don't know why but something led me to look into Paula Abdul's video "Cold Hearted"

I noticed that one of the lead dancers was balding. The 80's were so much more accepting of flaws weren't they? I mean look at mullets! I have to say Paula hasn't changed much in appearance either. Kudos aging gracefully - not to say there is anything wrong with aging in anyway.

Just look at him - feeling so sexified and no one's making a big deal about it like they would today. Good times. You know you want to touch his head... YOU KNOW IT!

Then came the recommended list on the side - and there she was Mimi herself - Miss Mariah Carey!
Now my taste in music has drastically changed since I was a little girl but I can tell you one thing - this song will always be my baby <3

I really feel that it captures the "sweetheart" in Mariah and her youth. Perhaps that has changed now but who am I to judge? All I know is when I see this video and hear this song I'm brought back to a moment of the innocent joy of a 10 year old girl turning the t.v. up as loud as it can go - and singing to her cat.

However if I had to pick my song of the day today it would have to be this one:

Maybe it's the song of my everyday and of  my wishes - but on a beautiful sunny day with birds in the sky.. it hits the spot :)

Between the Machines

In commemoration of a great critique day at print - I wanted to address "Conversation".

Conversation can happen directly or indirectly. Be it through verbalization, physicality, the mental planetarium  or even just silence.

I like to think of this in the context of Arabic vocal music. Generally choruses tend to embody a "Call and Response". An example of how this would take place is like this:

Imagine yourself singing this line: If you're happy and you know it clap your hands!
Then a chorus would repeat: If you're happy and you know it clap your hands!

Why would I bring this up you ask? FUHNEE you should ask bwahahaha

In a moment of sheer brilliance and epiphany I was walking home and thinking about my print critique. It was wonderful! But it also brought insight to my melon. Following the Rage - I have been emitting over my video class and my self defense claims. "What better time than now" "All hell can't stop us now" - "Now you do what they told ya - Now you're under control" and "Fuck you I won't do what you tell me!"

Rage against the Machine truly epitomized one half of my print edition equation.

the machine the machine... Florence and the Machine?

I understand the context of why they chose those names but it's interesting to see them in parallel to one another.

Perhaps somewhere in space "the machine" planted itself in both Florence Welch and Crew's hands and Zach de La Rocha and Crew's hands. I feel there is a correlation in the "rage" - feminine and masculine.

"Say my name"  - "Fuck you I won't do what you tell me"

Existing on a similar plane those can be perceived as two different people in conflict or one person in conflict.

In conclusion of this bibble babble of random "aha!" I say ........

yea... WHAT THE FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK