My First Love.

Art is my passion, my first love and most of all the definition of who I am. - Shanah

The two top pieces from the left are more recent than the rest. Some of these are finished

Writing is and has never been my first love nor passion. No. I write because it is the only way I get over feelings of hurt, anguish and most of all incessant thoughts on a particular subject. What I think of myself in those dark solitary moments of creation and drawing is ‘artist’ not writer. I love to design and to draw. It is my first love and will always be. It is the one thing that I have a knack and desire for.
When I talked about it here; I never went into the details. I have drawn since I was a young girl – pre-teens. I used to draw on and off school holidays and breaks. I even remember my first pieces as a young girl. Drawing is something that comes naturally to me, as easy as breathing when the details aren’t so intricate. There are days where I sleep the next morning because I spent the night working on a piece. Days where I unplug; switch off the phone, get off social media and mute the television while I get lost in the moment. In the beauty of the process of creation. Those are the days I live for sometimes. The days when artistic inspiration is on a high and I lose everything to my imagination and the pencil executing the mental concept on paper, are the most exciting days of my life.
I draw a little more often lately and what never ceases to take my breath away is the evolution of a design. There is a whole lot to marvel at during the execution of a mental image and what eventually ends on paper. The mental vision is always different from the final design.This is why it is so hard to put into words the thoughts that brought on a particular piece and the source of inspiration. Thoughts are usually parallel to the actual design. To be honest; when I am drawing nothing is going on in my mind. I’m more still and at peace during those moments- I compare it to meditation and those peaceful moments you find yourself in during prayer.
Much as I am more open with my writing and don’t mind sharing, I am much more sensitive when it comes to my drawing. I never used to let anyone look at my pieces in my youth and still don’t. The only person who used to see the process from start to finish is my brother. No one else. I do share some on Instagram, Twitter and Facebook but it makes me feel like I am standing in the nude for the whole world to see and criticize. And it freaks me out. But I am trying to be a little more open.
Art is the only thing that makes me feel as agitated as a drug addict in withdrawal due to the lack of creative release. Last year, I was forced into buying art supplies for my former place of my employment because I needed that relief. It was the only thing I could think about the entire week. I would surely be lost if I couldn’t draw unlike writing although I need it too to stay sane.
Art is my passion, my first love and most of all the definition of who I am. Everything else comes second to it.

Where I Need To Be.

"When your heart speaks, take good notes." -  Judith Campbell

There is a way God does his things that leaves one in awe. At a point in my life where I was so fed up with my previous place of employment; I was handed a ray of hope amidst all the changes and everything I found so hard to deal with. God handed me a ray of hope. It was so unexpected that I tweeted about it for it was something I had long forgotten. I felt like throwing in the towel right there and then but as mothers go with their opinions, I didn’t. What I knew back then is; I wanted to be somewhere where I was happy and this ray of hope provided it. Suffice it to say; I am happy at the moment. Very happy.
I went back to where this gainful employment started: volunteering. I love it. It has brought me more experience that putting it into words would be an injustice. Some things need to be seen and been through personally to understand and this is one of them. I feel that this time in my life is exactly what I need. To be at peace and on a slower pace. The opportunity to figure out where this journey is leading to at the end of it all. But I’ll let God figure it out while I work on other areas in my life.
There is no better feeling than a peace of mind especially for a creative soul. My creative juices are flowing ever so gently which I love. Being given this opportunity to not only develop but nurture a talent is more than I could have asked for. Working Monday-Saturday 8:30-6:30 used to take not only the stuffing out of me but the creative juices as well. I barely had time to update this blog and work on my creativity too. Now; I have time maybe not for everything but it is enough.
The best part of it all is the opportunity to learn how things are done in a field I would like to be in. There is so much room for growth and development than anywhere else and the perks are infinite. And the people over my current place of employment drive HARD cars! If one is car shopping, there is the place to be. I hope to be a HARD car owner in years to come. God willing.
Let nobody ever lie to you. HAPPINESS is the TRUTH no matter the situation and areas in life. If you have to work hard at being happy then it is definitely not the right place, time and person.

Two Men Different Experiences.

I find it oddly amusing when people tell me their life stories and experiences on the onset of our meeting or after a day or two in my presence. I never fail to question what it is about me that inspires this in others because I’m neither open nor as forthcoming to strangers. Regardless of the whys, I am appreciative for it gives me an insight into their lives, personalities and how their experiences shape/shaped them.
My work put me in presence of two different men with disabilities and clearly different experiences. Henry is wheelchair bound while Julian is a leg amputee (which I never realised until he brought it to my attention). With them, I am more and more aware of how much society and the people we surround ourselves with play a huge role on the people we inadvertently become.
julian is quite confident with himself – something you tell through body language, the way he carries himself and speech while Henry is more timid with an inferiority complex which I believe is not fair to him because he has achieved so much and has more to be proud of. Being wheelchair bound shouldn’t be a reflection of who he is nor his personality.
During our talk; Julian let it be known that his daughter never wanted him to pick her up at school because students would laugh at his funny walk and in turn laugh at her. Knowing this hurt him but he made it his duty to change her perception and that of her friends who would visit her home to find him on crutches (he uses his artificial limb during the day). Now, she doesn’t care what her friends or everyone else thinks.
Talking with him made me reflect on my life, that of Henry’s and the general feel of the mood I’ve noticed at my work place. Most of the people I work with probably went through what Henry did for they speak in hushed tones, lack confidence in themselves yet they are well educated.
Henry once mentioned how different I was compared to the people he knows and has come into contact with. At this point; I guess it has to do with how I don’t fit the disabled person mold. Most of my friends call me loud, quite confident in myself with an arrogant streak to match not forgetting the I-Don’t-Care- attitude. Traits which people with disabilities don’t typically possess.
I have come across people who think I should be grateful for their friendship as well as boys for their attention to me as a girl because I am disabled. Sadly, my parents and family didn’t raise that kind of girl. I was never brought up to feel inferior to anyone because of my disability. When I meet people with such entrenched opinions and thoughts I feel sorry for them and their progeny because attitudes and thoughts are recurring themes in many generations.
Life is a learning experience. To-date; none of my friends has ever asked why I am three legged. Those who knew me from when it happened to the new ones, none because it doesn’t matter. The people who know me and my family commend them on a job well done in raising me flaws and all. At a certain point a lady stopped me just to tell me she prays her daughter turns out I like have. Which is quite the compliment.
Today’s world is all about awareness on diseases, sexual orientation and whatnot. Parents without children with disabilities should endeavour to teach their kids and educate them about disabilities and not just sexual orientation. They should be aware at a young age for them not to have a warped perceptions when they come in contact with a disabled person so that there is more Julians and less Henrys.
And those of children with disabilities should teach them confidence and pride. Pride in who they are and what they have achieved for themselves and done for society because they are equally as important.

When One Door Closes A Window Opens.

Two weeks ago, I kept saying 'I don't want to work here anymore' to myself at any given opportunity and voila! I won't be come March. I am resilient. I have learned to be so cause of everything I have been through but at the back of my mind I knew my resilience and strong will wouldn't see me through when it came down to the crunch. I knew that later, I would have to throw in the towel but I am glad I didn't have to. Gainful employment and the lack there of now is so new to me that I do not even know how to feel. I expected a sense of loss and being adrift but it couldn't be further from how I truly feel. Yes, there is a mild sense of loss but the relief is humongous. February was one of my unhappiest months over there. Interspersed with intermittent bouts of tears over working with a self proclaimed Pastor who had the morals of a snake under the sheep clothing he shrouded his black soul in. Whoever told people the combo of a Muslim girl and a self proclaimed Pastor would work harmoniously? All in all; I am glad for the experience. It solidified the girl I know I am and much as it was fraught with so many trials, I met some good boys over there. I kept and still do keep a lot of people at bay but those who dared to crack this tough exterior, shall not be forgotten. best of all I look forward to work free Saturdays! :-)
May it all go well. Ameen.

photocredits: google

A Pretty Bad Week

Rihanna

 

The past week has been one of the most trying weeks on my journey to financial independence. It almost brought to mind my first month of gainful employment. Everything was such a challenge back then and I never thought I would get through if not for my brother.
It was nothing short of impossible to get through. There were days when I would wake up in the wee hours of the morning just to cry -for a good hour then I would suck it up and get ready after the alarm went off. Go to the one place where I literally have no friends and work with someone bent on making me throw in the towel.
I have hit a couple of rock bottoms but my worst yet is not giving a crap as to who sees me cry: when and where. Yes, tears would just flow at any moment without warning. I haven't been this unhappy in one entire week. What made it hurt the most is the lack of physical and emotional support. I could have used lots of shoulders to cry on and several emotional hugs. But, what I really need is an anchor. My brother used to be it and since he is gone, I have no one. I have to get used to the idea of being my own super woman . Much as I needed a physical shoulder to cry on ; the virtual ones were more than enough. I appreciate each and everyone of my friends for listening to me. It is so uncanny how most of them shared the thought: I have toned down my personality and lost my touch. I am as vocal as they come and to stand what I am going through without so much as a hiccup is not me. Well, I am trying to reign in the temper and tongue that gets the best of me sometimes. You know it's been a pretty bad week when you get involved in a little accident to top it off. Thankfully; my third leg didn't break and all I got was a busted lip and a few sore spots. Everything is so up in the air. My mood, the work issues I am trying to deal with in my own time and my good humor. I have had little to smile about the entire week and it shows. How can I have a perpetual smile on my face when deep down my heart is not happy? Even the romance novels that used to help me deal in moments like these don't seem to cut it.

A Moment's Catch Up.

It's been a minute, no? I wish I could say a lot has been going on in this social butterfly's life but I would be telling lies.
my brother finally left me. It is coming to a month since he's been gone. Oddly enough, I don't miss him as much as I thought I would. I guess it has to do with the realization his life is not here. It has never been since he was a teenager. He was of unfathomable help during my transition to work. Without his help, guidance and dry sense of humour I would not have made it. I'm glad for the year and a half we had together this time round. Longest period we spent as young adults.
 With my brother's leave; someone I knew many years ago and consider quite special popped back into my life. It was such a surprise because I had long abandoned thoughts of ever crossing paths with him. For the moment: I like the knowledge of having him around however short a period it may be. Fun-knee how we think some people are special yet they hardly hold us in the same regard.
A few weeks ago,a friend
riend asked me not to dodge Cupid. Tall order for someone like me. I am trying not to dodge Cupid. He/she is not playing his part. All I am getting from him are young boys. Yes! Boys who hold me in reverence. Boys who are intimidated by little me. Boys who make me feel like I am saying naughty things to my favourite male cousin. It is an appalling feeling and thought to say the least. Much as I like them and would love to keep some, I can't help but wish they were a couple of years older.
 The person, no. The girl I know I am wants and prefers a man. Someone who will have a firm hand on the tiller. I want to feel intimidated for once. I last felt so in high school during a Maths class pairing with a certain boy. No other guy has ever made me feel like that to date. In essence a man who will not let me get away with my own bullshit as I am accustomed to given the opportunity.
is there anything wrong with just sitting tight and waiting? doesn't what is meant to be happen as was ordained by god without us giving it a push because i would love nothing more than sitting tight and waiting for the one who is meant to be fall into my lap. foolish thoughts but it is how i feel nowadays.

credits: burberry

We Don't Always Get What We Wish For... 08/11/2014

I wish he'd let me forget him.

I wish I'd had 6months to a year to get over him and the feelings he arouses in me.

I wish he'd never reached out at a point where his name was becoming a distant memory.

I wish I never felt this way about him knowing it cannot be.

I wish I didn't have to deal with the thought of 'us' again when I'd just buried it.

I wish my heart didn't ache with thoughts of him.

I wish I had the strength to cut him out of my life once and for all.

And most of all; I wish he wasn't who is.

It'd make the loss of him much easier.

But we don't always get what we wish for.

 Xx Shanah.

I have this habit of making little notes on my phone 50% of the time because it is always at hand and this is one of them. The downside of writing on the phone is the lack of time to make necessary transfers. I get to it a little later than I should. The notes are either deleted or sequestered away on email but often deleted during general clean up sessions at the end of the year when the feelings/mood that inspired them is nonexistent.