day 54

"she was full of heart"

day 53

untitled

it's been a while
have skipped a number of days
lost in thoughts and idle movements
finally home again
6 fingered
and donning cubic hair

Woman to Woman

as part of this year's International Women's Day (IWD), i started the "Woman to Woman Project".
this project involves the fun business of stickers and the simple task of sharing a simple message passed from one woman to another.

"I think you're Beautiful"

give it to women, anywhere and everywhere
from friends to random strangers
to share the message of woman strength and beauty
and how it can be found in every woman
and especially in ourselves

you can download and print the stickers from here

Unraveled

It was crowded, yet again. I looked up and saw her. She was standing right in front of me, her face beaming as brightly as the plastic orange seat I was sitting on. She smiled; I turned away, casting my face downwards, pretending to sleep. Lying through the pretense of my slumber – I was getting good at it. Besides, I knew that she was not as old as she looked, and that despite appearances, my body was more tired than hers: I had been working the whole day. Tiredness and age are not proportionate variables, this much I knew. I looked up briefly and soaked in what I could see of her. It was always my belief that one should always know the faces of the ones they love, hate, are betraying, hurting, mocking, or killing: ownership. She looked like a dozen carnations popping out of a block of cement: the sturdiness of her body, erased by the aura of colors and fragrance of flowers. She was like a memory. I could also see the density of grays that peeked out of her hand-woven sun-hat. Her hair was beautifully bun up with intricate braids that ran along both sides of her oblong head. I sliced my eyes open from my fake slumber again and saw blurry hands, viciously in motion: like a murmur on steroids. She was knitting something. Orange.

... 

day 46

"dream mother"

day 38

"bimbo-eating plant"

days 27- 30 | faces

day 10 to day 20

"alisa"

"sparrows"

"ass"

"lotus girl"

"the sun"

"meadow of death and despair"

"exploring her mouth"

"monochrome rainbow"

"untitled"

"invisible ink"

"unplugged"

day 8

"octopussy"

day 5

"earth mother"

the horizon, erased

the horizon, erased. she paces, back and forth. placing feel before feet. stumbling silently.
the horizon, erased. she searches for something else to hold.

day 1

"sisters"

as part of my new year's resolution

to do a piece of 'art' each day

chand | an engagement

chand from nuruL H. on Vimeo.

a birth

artist | Rage

into light. fall.

dear world, what has Love made us into?

the butterfly

My Bohemian Butterfly
Fly Away
Away from the world of the iron cage
A world where your garden wilts
The petals of your bud
Crushed beneath the cold stab of iron
Where your Love, Beauty and Freedom
Will never blossom
So fly away
My Bohemian butterfly
Fly to the place which exists not
But in the flutter of your wings.

tracings

i've never really been good with still life

and so, i trace

there is something powerful in repetitions

"second nature" Taussig says

replication

makes the mundane

but also empowers

tracings

mimic

building up symbols

We Are AWARE

a tad bit overdue but no revolution is ever 'expired'. it has to be constantly documented, and redocumented. remembered, and re-remembered. so here it is. 

for more, visit AWARE

grandmothers, being ill, & time

the combination of having ill grandmothers and having little time to spend with them, is both a painful and guilty feeling. how necessary it then becomes, to know their stories from before they became grandmothers. 



my nenek (in Bahasa Melayu, paternal grandmother)



my nani (in Bengoli, maternal grandmother)

what makes a woman, a self?

i acknowledge that a person is the sum of all her attributes, her beliefs, her causes, her ideas. but i also strongly believe that in essence, we are all humans and in being human, we are all equal. or at least, should be. regardless. this is especially so in relation to who we help. who we include and exclude from our circle reflects greatly on who we are as a person. as an individual, i am not only a woman, but also a Muslim, a daughter, a sister, a friend, a postgraduate, a photographer, inclined towards activism, human. if the argument pertains to the question of the 'secular', all, except for one of the above-mentioned identities is secular in nature. if it pertains to that of gender, only three of them are gendered identities. and yet, we constantly embed gendered stereotypes onto those other traits. woman. feminized. bodily. roles within private and public spheres. perspectives. decisions. Muslim women are repressed. Mothers are mothers, not full-time professionals. Women are weak. an age old discourse that has been debated over and over again. a new discourse should be encouraged with regards to women & society, women in society. one that reflects a humanistic perspective. one that includes, not demarcating boundaries. one that enables us to dispel judgment and stereotypes. all sisters. all humans.


Woman to Woman from nuruL H. on Vimeo.