a silent sigh

a silent sigh, originally uploaded by * Honest *.

“One of the hardest things in life is having words in your heart that you can't utter.”
- James Earl Jones

Afterglow

Afterglow, originally uploaded by * Honest *.

"Here I am, lost in the light of the moon that comes through my window
Bathed in blue, the walls of my memory divide the thorns from the roses
It's you and the roses

Touch me and I will follow in your afterglow
Heal me from all this sorrow
As I let you go I will find my way when I see your eyes
Now I'm living in your afterglow

Here I am, lost in the ashes of time, but who wants tomorrow?
In between the longing to hold you again
I'm caught in your shadow, I'm losing control
My mind drifts away, we only have today

When the faith has gone as I let you go, as I let you go

Touch me and I will follow in your afterglow
Heal me from all this sorrow
As I let you go I will find my way, I will sacrifice
Now I'm living in your afterglow

Bathed in blue, the walls of my memory divide the thorns from the roses
It's you who is closest "

- INXS lyrics.

Inside Out

Inside Out, originally uploaded by * Honest *.

Mum walks in and asks: why are you painting with your blood? I answer; because that is the way I can feel.

I don’t know what I would have done if it was not for art. It is my breathing space, my world out of this world, where no one exists but everyone does in a different way. I don’t paint every painting literally with my blood, but they are representations of my blood, my soul, my inside brought out through an image.

I’m okay
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"...here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart..."
- ee cummings

Let the raw emotions live on, on the web.

I’m calmer today, got a few things of my chest. A weight is being lifted day by day. I like the fact that I am in an unknown space. God writes our many paths, I cannot guess where this path may lead, I hope to success.

As an artist it is hard to produce artwork when you are working on so many different things which are always changing. Sometimes unpredictability is thrilling but if you are always in an unpredictable circle it gets stressful and tiresome. Taking a time to pause and listen to the world is vital. This is when you surprise yourself, and come up with things that you never thought could come out of you. I know I am at a point where something is going to come out of me, I just need to get to the top of that mountain and see where I have traveled from and where I am going to go.

Its getting better day by day. I hate coming from a background of depression. I refuse to let it overwhelm me. It sometimes does, but I pull myself out of that darkness. I write because I don’t talk, so there has to be a way to unleash what I feel inside, even if I cannot wrap my words around the feeling, I try. I am not a writer, but I write for the sake of writing. The black spots within me turn to white when I put these words down. It helps.

Words go out to the wind, who knows where they will lead.

I’m not going to re read this before I post. Let the raw emotions live on, on the web.

where is the quiet inside

where is the quiet inside, originally uploaded by * Honest *.

confused words are appearing in my mind rolling around the world is a jumble of an unmanageable mountain of entangled thoughts that become visual memories trying to tear apart one image from the other to make sense of it all but cant In need to escape from the people from the place from my mind something hold us back they are engrained within us from childhood like chains they shackle us hinder us from the light in the world one has to look out of themselves grab that ladder and climb to the top of the world out of themselves and find the light wherever it may be some are capable of doing it on their own and others need to be slapped out of it

honest rambling

Where is the quiet inside?

I’m gona write and not think.. Whatever comes out of my fingers will go down on my blog today… I’ll keep it raw, I might not even re-read it.

My god do I need to write… to take pictures.. and mostly to sit with photoshop and to listen to what it tells me.

I’ve been jumping from job to job. Working with creative people is not an easy task. Everyone has an ego bigger than the room; and when ego’s come together.. they either clash and the room explodes, or harmony happens and the room starts to sing.

My song has dwindled into a balloon without air.. the balloon need to become like lungs, filled up with air and soar above the clouds. I don’t know what to feel.. I don’t know what to upload.. in a state of confusion… not knowing where I stand in my own head. I need to learn to listen to myself again. Where is that quite inside?

Made friendships, friends moved away, became something different, transformed, morphed. Or is it me that has changed? A reaction to something that has happened before makes me push people away, but when you try to let them in again, they are not the same, you are not the same. Its sad.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhh.. don’t play the blame game honest. Man what the hell is wrong with me.. I’m in confusion. Sitting in the darkness with no one to talk to, no one to hear my woe’s. Don’t blame Don’t blame Don’t blame. Look up… you have your health, you have your job. You are doing what you love. What’s missing though? That spark.. that something… or is it dare I say someone. Foolishness... foolish talk… happenstance’s happen for a reason. Nothing is random. Everything is planned written. We are mere pawns in this game of life, waiting for a hand to move us.

I’m talking s**t, truly. Where’s photoshop.. let me collage something.

*Honest is tired and confused; talking utter non-sense.*

Walls of Doubt

Walls of Doubt, originally uploaded by * Honest *.

"I feel one of those rambles coming along. I don’t know if I want it to come out. I don’t know if I want to hear my own thoughts. I have distracted myself for too long, Is it time to face this feeling? To come and face it, and listen to what it tells me…  Yes. Quite simply: I’m frustrated. Frustrated by the ones who take others for granted, and don’t appreciate the preciousness of others and their time. Relationships take years to be built, a realization can make that wall crumble down, and the walls of mistrust rebuild themselves in an instant thicker and harder to penetrate than they were before. The walls suffocate the soul. But it’s a learned protection; compartmentalizing is necessary to survive.

Life has taught me, if you want something known, then speak it, do it or even think it. If not don’t even let yourself know about it. Is that a possibility? Yes, this IS my reality."

-Honest Thoughts

The Arranged Question

The Arranged Question, originally uploaded by * Honest *.

Questioning the question and the intention behind it; is it from
the heart? It should be shouldn’t it? It could be… Or was it a
childhood crush that grew into a something that never should
have been? Past heartbreaks make us weary, but there is a
reason for the hurt. It has to happen for us to be the people
we are today. The question has been raised again… and the
answer is clear. Or is it?

-A Heartfelt Honest ramble

A vision of something that once was

A vision of something that once was, originally uploaded by * Honest *.

A hot humid Ramadan night, I walk along the paths of old Dubai, trying to find a familiar face in this part of town. The houses are still there, the names on the signs are the same, but it’s all a blur. It feels deserted, where is the hustle & bustle? The shop keepers calling on the people welcoming them in. The smell of fresh coffee brewing in the distance is a welcomed sign. Children take turns riding their bicycles in the small winding streets. A culture that once was, is breathing the contemporary air, it has a new scent, a flavor of the new but with a pungent spice of the old. I get goose-bumps walking along those tiny streets; I get choked up just remembering…

Ramadan Kareem رمضان كريم

Ramadan is a month not only about fasting from sunrise to sunset, but it helps train a person to be the best they can possibly be by being good, moral peace keeping people.

During Ramadan I realize I am most aware about what I say, especially because I am someone who swears a lot in moments of frustration, but in Ramadan I know I have to hold my tongue, or I wouldn't be fasting. Throughout this time I reflect on people and this world as well as the afterlife. The most significant question I ask myself is how can I serve this world the best way I possibly can either in a small or big way? Since for me I see the physical world as a test; this test is what decides on where I will reside in the hereafter.

This year I would like to suggest something to my non Muslim friends here on flickr, to at least try one day of fasting. What I mean when I say fasting is, waking up before sunrise and having breakfast, and not breaking that fast with water or any type of food and most importantly any swearing or fowl language until the sun sets the same night.

If any of you try it, please share your story with us. I’m curious to see what fasting means to a person who has never done it since they were children.

I wish you all without exception ..
(Muslims, Christians, Jews, Buddhists, Atheists..... every life form on earth)
رمضان كريم Ramadan Kareem.
May we come out of it as better versions of ourselves, benefiting ourselves and the ones around us.

Again I say Ramadan Kareem to you all

(Salam. Peace)

This is a brief of my story…

Born into a large family, although small compared to the region I’m from, raised by a single mother, detached yet close to my siblings. Never stayed in one place for too long, hence I always see myself as a contemporary nomad, moving from place to place as the wind changes, as if running away from life. I learnt from a young age not to put down deep roots in a specific place, life is in the people although you get burned by the ones closest to you if you are not careful. The world and people change fast around us, sometimes we have the naïve thought that we can change the destiny of a city but that’s just false hope, the only destiny we can change is our own.

If my life doesn’t get fucked up once every month I start getting worried!! If that in itself isn’t fucked up I don’t know what is. I try and lay low from the world sometimes, putting up a wall sheltering myself from the bad that happens around so I don’t feel. I sometimes need to be numb, it’s the way I use to cope growing up; I have gotten it down to a science, so much so that I have been accused of being cold, a person who does not feel and is selfish. I have only been accused of being selfish only once in my life, accused by a near and dear person to my heart, I never want to feel what I felt on that day.

After that incident I have always been on the defensive attacking my position in that person’s mind showing them why I am the way I am. If it wasn’t for my past, for all the things I have been through in my life I would not be this way. I use to think I will just barely graduate high school and not go to university, n then sometimes I use to think, no; I will do something with my life. I will change the paths of the ones who came before me and write a new history, create a new path for my own. I made a promise to myself that that is what I will do.

During my senior year in high school is when I decided I would go to university, one of the newest universities in the country at the time. It was a dilemma choosing where to go and what I would study, but I finally found the right place, and I thank god everyday that I enrolled in that university, and chose to study, art photography and art history. Everyone I told about my major use to tell me the exact same phrase: “What are you going to do with your life with this degree?” Again I found myself defending my choice, defending art, the fact that art is in everything we see, it is even in our godly creation. The world is gods’ canvas. The world is art, so why not express ourselves through it?

My mother is my backbone, no matter what happens to me I know she is the person that will keep me standing tall. Even though she was skeptical of my choice of study, she stood behind me supporting my every step. My strength and endurance comes from her, and I am proud to have been raised by her. I shouldn’t complain about my life when I see all that she has endured; it keeps me grounded.

After four years of studying what I wanted in University graduating with honors; now looking back I can proudly say I have done it. It was such a hard and bumpy road, but I succeeded. Not only have I graduated but I have also gotten job offers I have never dreamt of getting. Everything I have went through, all the hardships have lead to this moment, I would not change one bit of it for the world.

Today after university comes another path I have to carve out for myself, breaking down the typical stereotype of a woman can’t be doing this or that. This is where I harness my rebellious side, where I use it for the better, instead of going towards the wrong path, which I could have done. Thankfully I used my mind directing myself towards a hopefully better future.

I started thinking and writing this after getting to know a little bit more about someone, who was curious about me, and what I do and what I like, It got me thinking about why I am the way I am… And that’s why you are all reading this…

My name is Honest, and this is a small window into my world.

Reaching Out

"Discovering a place I use to be; was it a mental space or a physical? I cannot remember. Being there lead to mental anguish, yet today it’s different. I see it in an uncommon light, the veil has been lifted; It’s a new day, a brand new life to seek, another life to be born. Life is within reach, I say to myself, if I want it, then I must reach out and grab it."
-Honest

My Eye

Another day, another photograph… Today another time and place emerges in the distance. I try and capture what I see the way I see it and not the way others do. I want to invite people to view through my eyes; but how can I do that? How can I make others read my visual story the way I see it ?

We all bring our own history to existing stories and translate them from this starting point. So does this mean we overlap different cultural fingerprints creating a new culture and a new belief? Is this how new culture reveals itself to its surroundings?

I’m just wondering and exploring the world again through my usual ramblings and photography…

Acid Dreams

There was a land that carried a unique culture embedded within. The north wind blew east transporting a message; a new culture arose changing the horizon line forever to come. A new breed is growing, surviving, scratching the land, adding its mark; making the history hide within the people.

I question it… I question the uniqueness of this that is called new.
Is it ? Or is it a common construction, erasing the identity of a civilization, wiping away the history and culture forcing a new one to surface?

Summer Ramblings

"The itch of art is a glorious one, where an image strikes you and does not leave you alone until you produce something worthy of the thought. Sometimes the product is basically junk, although what goes into the creation is incredible. So you stop and try again, and then, there it is, hitting you right between the eyes; the byproduct of what happened behind those eyes. A creation so fluid that it changed yet stayed the same; when it passed from the mind to the hand or through the eye. Each physical manifestation transforms the outcome of the product but it is still significant no matter how it was produced. It exists and now survives the test of time. "
- Honest, Summer After Midnight Ramblings

Could You Miss Someone You Never Met?

I'm rambling again...




Could you miss someone you never met?
That’s the question I’ve been asking myself for years.
A person you never set eyes on,
You don’t know their voice, mannerisms or moods.
Strangely you know they exist.
But how can that be? Or can’t it?
It’s the summer breeze that’s doing this to my brain!
Making friends wonder if I am sane!
I’ve always had a characteristic of insanity in me, coming up with the strangest ideas that surprise me, writing this at 4:45am because I can’t sleep. The night sky is starting to change color, going from black to purple to blue.
It’s almost light out yet I can see the stars, contemplating on the what ifs, the things that can never be, but can exist in my brain where another story is being written. I wonder if I lived that life for a day would it change anything?
No idea where this drive to write down my ramblings is coming from yet it is here, i'm flowing with it, writing words down as they come out.
The birds will start to sing in a while and I will have to wake up from this dream, this realm, and this dimension.
I go back to the question:-
Can we miss a person we never met?
Never knew existed or can exist?
Yet their presence is felt all around! It’s a strange feeling, I feel an aura round me yet no one is in the room!
I might just be a dreamer in the night; no harm in dreaming hey?
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Feel free to add to my ramblings in any way you like

Echo’s of the Past

I ramble on quite allot and I haven’t had one of these rambling sessions in a while so bare with me here.

Every person is looking for individuality in this world, but can we really be unique? Or are we mere replicas of one another telling our own stories with echoes of people that have come before us? Where is our true voice? Does it have to come out of the place where song comes from? Or is our voice in out eyes, ears, footsteps and fingertips. If we cannot be original then what can we be? Do we tell our stories from our point of view adding our mark to the ones that came before? We are stained by the past, is that good or bad? I really can’t answer that question. I can only find myself between the plethora of souls and ask the question of what new perspective can I bring that I myself have not seen out there. I want to be a mirror with a voice and not a mere reflection.

Words

As an artist I struggle between words and visuals yet I see that art cannot function without words. This doesn’t mean that the visual has to include words in the piece yet explanations are required to make a viewer understand where the artist is coming from. Without them a work of art could be so abstract that it is unreadable to a viewer.

The problem with contemporary art is most people just view it rather than experiencing it. By viewing the painting, photograph, drawing or whatever the piece may be there is a sort of disconnect between the artwork and viewer. I question myself on how could I make work that engages a person to understand what I experienced to create it? How can I make them feel what I felt? Think the thoughts I thought?

There has to be a different and unique way of creating an experience where the viewer has to interact to receive an emotion, or perhaps the interaction would evoke a thought. A thought one has never had before.

This is just my thought of the day…

After Every Low...

The art world is just like waves of energy and inspiration going up and down. Sometimes you can feel unstoppable, full of creativity and energy. At other times you can feel like someone punched you in the stomach and you just want to crawl under the covers and not come out. After every low is a high even if it doesn’t seem like that.

I’ve been through a major artist block where I got to the limit to where I was rethinking my role as an artist, thinking… do I really want this for my life? What will it change? Sometimes I feel selfish for creating art, when in the world there are such tragedies. I feel so insignificant… always thinking about how can art help better humanity and change the way we view life. Does it make someone happy? Sad? Is it political? Is it classical? Does it say something or not?

What I came up with for this moment in time is, if we want to make things in this world better we have to correct our lives first. Start small and go from there. If we are “messed up in our heads how can we help others”. I started working on artworks which release anxieties within. For the first time I painted myself, it was a liberating yet scary experience. The paintings were huge and overwhelming, the colors are used would hit the viewer at first glance, although they show pain it is not clear what the pain is. I myself know what I am referring to yet the people who come to view the work don’t know. I still don’t know if I want to reveal where the pain comes from. For now I will just call it”a build up of traumatic experiences”

I needed to go through that experience, it was as if I took out the feelings from my heart and put them right in front of me, it was the way I dealt with them. It felt liberating, yet in the beginning it was sad and frightening.

Music I played in the studio while working helped me with the energy and the brushstrokes! I kept moving from one canvas to another and then back again. From time to time you hit a plateau and that’s when you have to challenge yourself to do more, to think in ways you never thought. The plateau is a scary place, when it comes it brings the block with it. Now I know that when I come to that place in my work I have to experiment and talk about what I am doing with people so I can move forward.

Hopefully I will push myself more and more this summer; I want to explore area’s I have not explored. Think in way I have never thought. Interact with new and interesting people who come from completely different worlds with different ideology, perhaps this will push me to a new direction in my work and might make me see people and the world from another perspective.

Artist Block

Artist Block is the worst thing that could happen to an art student at a time when deadlines have to be met. I find myself unmotivated.. uninspired by anything in this world. I remember a time when things use to move me.. in a way i find myself lost and disconnected with people.. and sadest of all.. i feel no love for what i do anymore. I am like a machine.. produce produce produce... dont get me wrong.. the work does not look bad (if i say so myself) the people who view it are in awe.. when i am asked what it means.. I have nothing to say.