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.