Call for Subjects: Only a few days left to Submit!

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In a recent blog post, I shared that I’m opening up the 2011 “Technicolor Muslimah” series.
I am seeking volunteers who self-identify as American Muslim women, with or without hijab (and anywhere in between), who can help make this project more diverse.  Please read the original “Call for Subjects” for more of what I mean. 
 
To Submit, please send:

1. A selfie (a picture of you!):
– high quality (It’s difficult to paint from blurry or low-res pictures)
– head and shoulders only (or can be cropped)
– BIG PERSONALITY!  I’m looking for images that are more communicative than just “looking at the camera and smiling,” whether through use of props or through expression. 

2. A brief description of how you feel you could make this series more diverse.

Send to artbysaba@yahoo.com or facebook.com/artbysaba by MAY 1st!!  I will choose a few that will become paintings in the first couple of weeks of May.

Call for Subjects

I was included in a list of beautiful photographs of American Muslim women: here
If you scroll down to the comments section, there is a pretty clear and legitimate concern with this list – the women who have been left out.

I spent 16 years in predominately white private schools that were dripping with privilege.  But as one of few Muslim females in these environments, I very deeply felt the consistent ache and insecurity of being an “other,” of my lack of privilege.
A few years ago while I was at North Carolina Central University studying Art Education, I took a course called “Diversity and Pedagogy.”  We took a “calculate your privilege” quiz, and I remember feeling really angry.  Because as I was taking the quiz, as I was learning about the results, I felt that it took away something that had defined me, and suddenly, I was one of them – one of the privileged.  I thought that I knew everything about racism, about feeling “othered” and less than… so eventually I stopped talking in class, stopped contributing my self-assumed expertise in the subject, and listened.

I took that quiz again, earlier this week.
I have lots of privilege.  Yes, I am a Muslim woman of color with immigrant parents, but I have privilege.  So now, what do I do with that?  Do I deny it? Try to destroy it?  No.  But I do think it means that I need to be responsible for myself, and own up to it when my own good intentions fall short.  Just because I have felt excluded, it does not give me a free pass to do the same to others.

The largest group of American-born Muslims are African American Muslims – 40%.  I have completed 26 paintings of American Muslim women – and only one has been African American.
I am embarrassed and ashamed of this.  As I find more opportunities to talk about this work and share it, those feelings have only grown stronger.  Maybe I’ve been waiting for someone to call me out on it, but if anyone has, I’m not aware of it.  So I guess I’m calling myself out.

I often describe my work as “portraits of American Muslim women,” and I need to be responsible to that.  So, obviously, just one African American woman out of 26 is not adequate.  Representing diversity has always been important to me, but I don’t know that I have really followed through.  I made the excuse that I found my subjects through my personal networks, and in most cases, I had known my subject for many years.  And because of that, Pakistanis are a bit over-represented throughout the work, everyone is cis and heterosexual.  So yeah, that’s authentic to what I was most familiar with growing up, but truly, I just felt uncomfortable reaching out to communities outside of my own.  Because I’m a little shy, and I’m scared someone might tell me “No, you suck.”  Or “no, you’re not allowed to do this.”

It’s just not okay to be like “I was uncomfortable” and then be guilty of exactly the thing that is motivating me to make art in the first place.

Alright so besides saying “my bad” (which doesn’t feel like enough)…  I’m opening up the “Technicolor Muslimah” series – I’m looking for volunteers to be included in this series, who can help it become a more diverse body of work.  If you self-identify as an American Muslim woman, and are left out of these kinds of lists, please send me a message through my Facebook page: facebook.com/artbysaba or email: artbysaba@yahoo.com.

Click here to see the work.  Each painting is also accompanied by a written statement from the subject where she describes herself in her own words.

Sweet Noor

I had said that the painting “Rebel” was the last painting in the An-Noor series.  When I found out I would get to show the series at the Carrack Modern Art in January, I felt strongly compelled to make another painting.  So I added this piece, which also turned out to be many people’s favorite in the series.

This painting is of one of my dearest friends.  In the image she is carrying her first child, a daughter that she named “Noor.”  The photograph I worked from was taken just a few days before Noor was born.



A few notes about the piece:
I wanted the background to feel as though it was inside of a womb.  It’s this safe space where she can connect to her child, imagine the future.
The green dress brings to mind the Arnolfini portrait, one of the most recognizable renderings of a pregnant woman.

by Jan Van Eyck

by Jan Van Eyck

I’m not sure that the An-Noor series is “finished.”  I see that this is a big conversation, and that the portraits in this project only scratch the surface of the diversity of American Muslim women.  There is much that is left unexplored here, so I’m open to expanding this series as I meet more women who inspire me.  But for now, I guess I punctuate An-Noor with a “…”

Rebel

Completed painting.  "Rebel" 20"x60"  Acrylic paint, gold leaf, rhinestones on canvas

Completed painting. “Rebel” 20″x60″ Acrylic paint, gold leaf, rhinestones on canvas

This is the last portrait in An-Noor.  It’s called “Rebel” and is 20″ x 60″ (same size as Inner Sun and American Desi).  I used gold leaf, rhinestones (in the necklace) and acrylic paint.

I crossed paths with the subject of this painting, Amarra, in September 2012.  We were both at an event where I was displaying some art.  Even though we didn’t really talk, we became Facebook and Instagram friends (gotta love social media).  After seeing some of the amazing selfies she posts, I had no choice but to ask if I could photograph her.  I had the opportunity to speak to Amarra at length before I took her picture.  She completely opened up, and the depth of our conversation made painting her feel natural and fluid.

All of us have friends who post selfies, but few actually tap into the potential of the selfie as more than just a form of documentation, but as an art form.  It’s a self-portrait.  It was clear from my conversation with Amarra that she has a natural ability to express her mood, her heritage, even her values, in the way that she presents herself.  To have the outside match the inside.  When this is combined with body language and environment, you can end up with a really dynamic image of a person.

So what I’m really trying to say, is that she showed up in this kick-ass outfit, gave me this powerful pose, and that is a huge part of why this painting turned out the way it did.

Check out the gallery for pictures of the process and detail shots.

Having painted the last subject, I think about how transformative this process has been. I came into this undertaking barely 26 years old, a new mother, with no established “career,” and just having earned a degree in teaching, not painting.

Listening to all these women has been one of the most special parts of this project.  We could skip the small talk and go straight to the real stuff.  All of them are so unique, and with each one, there was something, a quality of hers, a particular thing that she said or way that she said it, that has resonated with me.  With each painting, I was able to see some part of myself more clearly, by connecting to and reflecting the woman that I was painting.  I think we all can sometimes feel that whoever we are, however we are, isn’t good enough.  This healing kind of thing happened while working on this project – in recognizing the love and respect I have for each of these women, I found that I could also love and accept myself a little more.

Thank you to all who have participated in this with me!  You rock.

There is one painting (not a portrait) left to complete this series.  Stay tuned.

Inner Sun

I’m REALLY excited about this newest painting.  The making of this painting was very new to me… Using the Sketchbook app on iPad, I was able to take the level of design on this to a much higher level.  Not only am I thrilled with the experience and finished product of this painting, but I can see all sorts of possibilities for future work.  Which is invigorating.

“Maria (Inner Sun)” is 20″ x 60,” in acrylic paint, gold leaf, and glass beads (the liquitex medium)

BEFORE PAINTING:
I photographed this subject, Maria, almost a year ago.  She is actually doing zumba outdoors, but I cropped her body out of it.  Maria has an amazing personal story, and clearly, a beautiful smile.  In the complete photograph, Maria’s arms are outstretched, and the worm’s eye view shows the bright blue sky over her head.  Her body language, the smile on her face, her outstretched arms, and the vastness of the sky create an overwhelming feeling of freedom, openness, and connectedness with this great big world.  To translate this feeling into her painting was challenging… (which is why it has been so long since I photographed her!)  I fussed with this composition for a long time and scrapped a lot of ideas before I finally came up with the right imagery for her.

I created the design around Maria using the Sketchbook app.  I was able to draw freehand using a stylus, but as I drew, the app created a mirror image of every single element – perfect bilateral symmetry.  And then I was also able to reflect the bottom and top half of the image using the layering options.  This might be total child’s play compared to Photoshop, but I love that I am still drawing while using it.  I was able to edit the crap out of the design with relative ease.

PROCESS:
Basically I taped off the canvas and painted the shades of blue, the white and yellow beams, first.  Then I projected the design on top, and drew it on with white charcoal so I wouldn’t get pencil marks in the paint.  Then I painted the design in gold, then glued the gold leaf on top of that.  I painted Maria after I had finished the whole design.  The top of the painting – the pink/red… is covered in glass beads and comes off of the canvas about a 1/4.”  There was a lot of tedious fixing of edges and patching of gold leaf. Overall I spent a lot of time drafting this image and designing it, and actually making the painting was a super efficient process as a result.

Now the coolest thing about this painting, is that as I worked, the design got more and more and more complex.  I reversed positive and negative areas, I wove the white line through the gold leafed shapes…  I am just so excited about this experience, this whole new way of making art.  I would never dream of doing anything like this with pencil and paper.  Hoorayyyy technology!

I always worry about how to move forward, to get better, to challenge myself…  and I think that this emphasis on designs is where it’s at.  It is such a neat thing, to try to communicate meaning in these flat forms.  To make it all feel like something.  To draw it by hand.  It is like speaking a new language.  Suddenly I saw it everywhere – rugs, people’s clothes (I was particularly inspired by Jennifer Lopez’s dress at the Oscars?), my shower curtain…

The straight lines and geometric shapes on one layer, with organic lines curling over them in gold…It is this conversation between hard and soft, masculine and feminine.  They are separate elements, but they communicate with each other and effect each other.  Clearly I’m obsessed with all this.  And that’s the dragon that I am chasing when searching for inspiration… I can’t just be interested in it, I need to be obsessed.

SYMBOLISM:
The symbolism in this painting is not quite as straightforward as what I often do.  I have an enormous painting that I want to do next that is going to be exploding with pretty literal symbolic imagery (plus a whole bunch of organic and geometric designs).  But that’s later.

For now, look through the gallery for pictures of process and completed painting.  I have an excessive amount of pictures because it looks so cool from different angles.  The different shades of blue didn’t show up much in the final photographs for some reason… but it’s visible in other pictures.

Khuwailah, The Queen of Swords

I have completed another painting in the An-Noor series.  I thought I was finished with this painting many times…I actually started writing this blog post a couple of weeks ago, and as I was writing it, it became really clear to me that it was incomplete.  Anyway, the subject is Khuwailah, a woman I met in Durham a few years ago.

While looking for inspiration for this painting, I looked through my deck of Tarot cards.  The deck is full of symbolic images (that’s kind of the whole point), and I picked out all of the images that spoke to me, and that included a female figure.  I found surprisingly few female cards (like 15 or 16 out of 78 cards).  Of those cards, there was one card that stood out to me, that connected to this particular subject… the Queen of Swords.

Her major characteristics are that she is “Honest, Astute, Forthright, Witty, and Experienced.”  As I read more into her character, I found that it was really a perfect fit.  But what do I do with this image?  I included a few visual references to it in my painting.

I have never photographed a painting thinking that it was done as many times as I did with this one.  Every time I took “the final picture” I would immediately see how I could improve it.  It was unusual, but I’m glad I didn’t just settle for it being done before it really was.  The biggest issue I had was to figure out what to paint through the window and how to paint it.  I originally planned to have some stylized clouds very similar to those on the tarot card, but they didn’t fit with the rest of the image, to me.  So then I just painted over them, but that was really boring.  It needed more magic.  Eventually I tried to channel some Bob Ross with the happy little clouds (and the trees that were there at one point, too).  I’m really really pleased with it, finally!

Check out the gallery to see pictures of the process, and a few of the different versions of this painting.


A couple more things about this painting:

The pattern:  I googled images of African patterns and textiles (my research methods are highly developed, clearly), and tried to get a good sense of what characteristics make them distinct.  I saw a lot of these concentric diamonds.  The pattern I ended up using (I design most of my patterns, but this one is honestly a bit of a knock-off of a rug I came across) is a more geometric and modern looking version of these concentric diamonds.  I struggled some with finding the right balance of colors in the background and pattern… so that they pattern was not distracting but still visible, harmonious with the figure and the window, etc.
Gothic Window with Foil Arches

The window: I love when paintings have windows in them… I particularly like when they have a whole painting inside of a painting, basically, with the scene outside of the window.  I wanted to give the sense that Khuwailah was sitting high up into the sky.  Anyhow, the structure/form of the window was derived from the windows on gothic churches and buildings.

Sophia – Completed painting and process

So I just finished another painting in the An-Noor series.  The subject is my friend Sophia, whom I love.  ❤

Her pose is a bit of a departure from the rest of the paintings I have done thus far, in that she is looking down, away from the camera.  Her strength, her light, shines brightly, but she illustrates a quieter strength than some of the other images.  I am really enjoying the way that the paintings in this project clearly fit together as a collection, share imagery and ideas, yet each individual painting is its own entity, and is born out of a conversation with the subject.

SYMBOLS:
There are some pretty obvious symbols in this image – her white coat, the American flag, and the stenciled pattern radiating out from her head.

Halo.  I’ve used halos in previous paintings, and will do so in future ones… Sophia’s halo was created with a design that suggests her Pakistani heritage.  It is pretty amazing how 2-D shapes can communicate this so effectively.  I looked at images of Pakistani and Indian textiles in order to create the stencil.  The halo, of course, is a representation of her inner light, her Noor.

American Flag.  The other symbol worth discussing is the American flag.  I went back and forth in my mind about using this… It’s an image that is everywhere.  Aesthetically, I love the way the flag looks…but what does it mean?  Does it represent an unquestioning patriotism?  A (blind?) devotion to the “American way,” to western values and culture, its wars?  Is it an image that is exclusive, that can only belong to those who conform to a narrow idea of what it means to be American?  Does it mean getting wasted on the Fourth of July while eating fried chicken and spitting watermelon seeds?  I never thought about the American flag that much, until September 11th.  In the days and weeks that followed, the flag was everywhere.  Painted on cars, on faces.  Plastered on t-shirts.  Waving in the wind, attached to cheap plastic sticks, or flagpoles reaching into the sky.  And when I saw these flags, I felt afraid.  Not defiant, or angry, or patriotic, just afraid.  I was young (15 years old), sure, but the stories I was hearing, of people, my friends, being told by strangers to “go back to your own country,” being spit on, shoved into lockers, the bomb threats at our mosque… that’s part of what that flag suddenly came to mean in those days.  But I love this country, I always have.  It is because I was born here, raised here, that I can make art the way that I do, that I have been able to find a unique path.  I guess I could talk about this for a while, what the flag means to me, but I’d rather not.  Alls I mean is, the American flag is not a one-dimensional or static symbol, but one that shifts, evolves, and is as dynamic as the peoples of this country.
So I decided to use it.  And it will show up again in another painting in the series.

PROCESS:
Once again I used acrylic paint and gold leaf.

Halo.
I created a stencil out of cardstock.  I used it to put down the pattern in yellow paint.

Picstitch of stencil

Picstitch of stencil

IMG_5881          IMG_5886

Next, I painted on adhesive on top of the yellow paint, and applied the gold leaf.
IMG_5954         IMG_5950

I fixed up the edges of the gold-leafed designs by really thinly tracing it with paint.  The innermost circle is the brightest yellow, and the outermost circle is the least saturated yellow.
IMG_6001       DSC_0016
Finally I added a thin layer of gold paint around the pattern to kind of tie everything together a bit more and give it some more ambient light.

American Flag/Background.
Painting bricks = lots of layers.  I love bricks (painted some in Dina’s painting) because while it seems like it would be so simple, each brick is unique, and textured.  So I can add all sorts of colors into it.  Even with all the colors, when I had finished the bricks, I felt like it needed some roughing up… it was too flat and clean looking.  I considered using a crackle medium, but didn’t go that route.  Sooooo… I did a little experiment!!  I mixed the gold leaf adhesive with dish soap and water, and applied it to the background.  Basically, I figured that the dish soap would counteract the adhesive, so the gold leaf wouldn’t stick to every area… and give it a more random effect.  And it worked!!  I did a couple layers of this mixture around the blue area so I could have a greater concentration of gold there (to suggest the stars of the American flag).  It was a little bit distracting though, and was calling attention away from the focal points, so I painted over the gold leaf with thin layers so it shines through intermittently and is not quite so bright/reflective.  The result reminds me of distressed blue jeans.

Nushmia – Completed Painting

About a month ago I wrote a post with images and info on a painting I was working on, particularly the inspiration behind the imagery.  And now, it’s done!!  Here are some pics of the completed painting, titled “Nushmia (Light upon light).”

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There were a number of different elements in this painting, and I tried lots of new things.

I found a great tool in the Sketchbook App for iPad, and was able to try out a bunch of different compositions, and using “Save As” to try lots of variations and then compare them.  Works much better than erasing holes into paper as I try different things, or redrawing the whole thing from scratch each time.  You can even sketch (or paint) by hand, take a picture of it, then manipulate it in different ways in the program.  AMAZING.  Saved me sooo much time, and allowed me to do a lot more pre-planning, which is essential when working in this size (and which is why I was actually able to meet a deadline this time!).  I use a stylus… and it’s not exactly like drawing by hand, but a great option.

The Olive Tree is a complex form.  Instead of just creating a simple tree trunk, there are different layers/limbs that are woven together to create the trunk of the tree, then spread out into branches.  In my original sketch for this painting, somehow I didn’t realize that a 6 foot tall canvas, while tall, is not tall enough for a full sized olive tree.

original sketch

So I had to scrap that and come up with a new composition.  To create the bark in the tree, I did a lot of layering.  I painted on base colors, then added “bark,” then painted over the “bark” to show 3-dimensionality, then painted the space between the bark… then realized that it was all very tedious and I wasn’t getting the results I was looking for.  So I did some research and decided to try a Crackle medium, often used on furniture or frames to give it an antique look.  Basically you paint a basecoat, put on the medium, wait a bit, then when you paint the top coat, it crackles and the base color shows through the cracks.


Looks a lot like bark, right?!  Except that it didn’t work at all.  So I messed around with it and found that if I painted over the crackle medium before it was dry, it would make the paint kind of mushy and peely… like nailpolish before it’s completely dry.  Tacky.  So I used crumpled up paper and roughed it up.  I think it turned out pretty good.  It didn’t save me time or effort like I was hoping, but it was nice to try something new.  It’s kind of hard to see exactly… but it adds some actual texture to the simulated texture.

DSC_0074

The leaves are just layered, somewhat translucent, flat forms, with silver glazed on top of the brightest layer.  I was thinking about adding more dimension into the leaves to make them more realistic, but I liked their flatness – they kind of provide a transition between the geometric patterned background and the organic form of the tree.

(detail)

(detail)

For the Background, I created a stencil for the first time.  I looked into geometric designs, trying to find something that utilized stars (as opposed to florals).  The stars are yet another reference to “light,” and this image is also meant to be at night, so it works for that reason as well.  I used cardstock and an exacto blade to create the stencil (the picture is kind of crap, sorry), and would scotch tape it to whatever area I was working on.  I had to adjust it somewhat, because the symmetry was a bit off… and then had to do some touch-ups when it was on canvas.  The color of the stenciling is just a bit lighter than the background, and I squeezed in some metallic silver, so it is subtly reflective, as well.

Nushmia (Light upon light) IMG_5041

I had originally planned to do some fireflies in this painting, and use gold leaf for them.  But I tried it and it looked pretty dumb.  It was too sweet, if that makes sense.  I’m all for some magic in a painting, but it was kind of like I had painted in a unicorn.  Too much. I ended up just using the gold leaf in the olives.

Around this time, I realized I liked the painting better in the dark… so I painted over the gold leaf fireflies (easier said than done), and made a “shadow glaze” (basically a dark purple) and painted over the tree and the figure to make it darker.  Which worked remarkably well over the entire tree.  BUT THEN I RUINED HER FACE WITH IT OMG.  It was awful.  I mean, RUINED.  I had to white out the entire face and slowly layer it back.  It’s much more difficult to fix a face than it is to paint it right the first time.  Jeez.  I was convinced that I could never truly fix it.  In the past, whenever I’ve had to agonize over an area, particularly a face, even if I got it back to where it looked like the person again, the texture and colors would always look kind of… muddied.  The opposite of radiant.  Oy.  So I was worried.  It took a while to fix it, and I did weird things to the proportions of her face in the process, but eventually, finally, it came together.  I actually think it turned out better than it was before.

The Frame. So then I finished the whole thing… and I felt like something was really missing.  Some of that magic.  I knew the fireflies weren’t going to work, so I busted out my art history books and skimmed through it.  I decided to add the gold leafed archway/frame… it is reminiscent of some old christian frescoes, and even some renaissance paintings that would paint in arches/architectural forms.  Plus it connects this image to Amna Noor, the first painting in the An-Noor series:

Barnard02

I designed the patterns with an Art Nouveau/filigree feel to them.  I drew it on in chalk, then painted over it, and cleaned up the chalk residue with q-tips.  I wanted to get a perfect mirror image of the pattern on the other corner of the frame, so I got some computer paper, traced the pattern, and went over it in sharpie (so that it would be visible when I flipped it over).  I flipped over the traced pattern on the other corner (a perfect mirror image!), and then traced over it again in pencil, putting enough pressure on it so that it created an indentation in the gold leaf underneath.  Here is a picstitch image of the stencil (on the left) and the mirrored pattern on the right.

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Here’s a gallery with images of sketches/the planning process, and the painting in different stages of completion.  I left out the whole “face is ruined” and firefly stages because I was too upset to even take pictures of it when it was like that.  So just use your imagination.  Maybe imagine some unicorns in there, too.

Rejection!

Getting rejected sucks.  After putting hours and hours of work into such a strange thing as art, we scramble to win one of the few opportunities to get our work shown, or to get some funding.  So we dole out the $35+ it costs to get someone to look at a picture of our art and tell us “no.”  Again, and again.

Rejection triggers self-reflection.  Why am I doing this?  Is it worth it?  Does it really matter?  I could just be focusing all of my energies on raising my son, instead of splitting time between him and scrambling to find time to paint, to write (to shower).  Do people even care to see paintings of American Muslim women, women who are diverse, who live here, and work alongside the rest of us; who are empowered, and passionate, and beautiful, and don’t all look the same or have the same story?  I mean, if I knew a bunch of sad women in burqas, that’s what I’d be painting.  But I don’t.  These are the women I know, and they are smart as hell, and they inspire me, and they clearly don’t need a bunch of entitled jerks to save them, or show them what being civilized looks like…and clearly, I think they are awesome.  Do we want to also hear of the women who flourish?  Do they matter?  If they aren’t “exotic”?  Do we care about them, since they don’t need us, since we can’t feel sorry for them (and as a result, somehow better about ourselves)?  I’m not trying to deny that many women struggle, and that these paintings do not represent every woman’s story, every American Muslim woman’s story, but there is space for multiple truths.

Isn’t there?

I’m fairly new at all this, at putting myself out there, at applying for grants and juried exhibitions.  And, really, I don’t think that I need to take these rejections personally, or think that it means I should change.  I think we’ve all heard that story, of a creative person who is rejected over and over again in their life.  And then they finally get that break, something finally works out, and we can’t even imagine why, how, anyone could have ever told them no.  But sometimes believing in myself is exhausting, and it all feels selfish and narcissistic.  Like I must be totally detached from reality, and really full of myself, to keep trying to make this work.

But I do… I keep trying.  And the bottom line, the absolute bottom line, is that I love what I do.  I love what I make.  And even if not one other person wanted to see my art, even if I don’t ever get grants, or into galleries… I want to look at it.  And I am terrible at, or hate, just about everything else anyway.  hahaha

On a lighter note, check out this photorrealistic sketch of my husband’s mutant feet.

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And yes, that says “green boa?” on the top left…
serious decisions.

The Evolution of Dina

Image

This is the largest painting I have completed to date (the third painting of the “An-Noor” series). It is six feet tall and four feet wide. I learned a lot through the process. In my sketches, I left a number of details unplanned (how exactly to deal with the negative space in the background, what is she sitting on?, what is that book in her lap?)… which would have been fine, except that it takes a lot of time (and paint) to try to figure these details out on the canvas. It took me three months to paint, and repaint, and repaint, this portrait.

If you scroll through the gallery, it is clear that I started out thinking that the painting would have a red background. This painting almost broke me in two. I remember looking at the layers of red in the around the sun and finally allowing myself to admit, “It’s beautiful, but it’s not right.” And I knew for sure that I had to paint over all those hours of work, that I had to redo the mess that I had made of the gold leaf. I may or may not have cried. Of course, immediately after doing so, I wondered if I was making a huge mistake. But it wasn’t a mistake. I had to trust my instincts, and push through it, and I love the final image. She is life-size-ish, and the gold leaf (my first time using this material) is f@*king brilliant. When I photographed it, it reflected the sunlight so strongly it hurt my eyes.

Dina is posed as Norman Rockwell’s Rosie the Riveter. I don’t want to go into great detail describing the imagery/symbolism in the spine of the book, or the sunflower… because I feel that it comes across? I would encourage you, however, to look closely at the spine of the book for some symbols of this woman and her power. Dina is a wonderful and inspiring woman. She grew up in North Carolina, and identifies with both her Southern and Egyptian roots. Who says collared greens and grape leaves don’t belong on the same plate? ❤

She will be hanging at the Carrack Modern Art this weekend for their last community show of 2012! Reception is this Friday.

Here is a gallery of pictures that shows the process (most are cellphone pics).