from sacred origins and cradling wombs,
to consistent drowning in an un-divine place, 
oscillating between…

madness and calm
love and pain
blood and tears
struggle and peace
abstinence and desire
tradition and innovation
vibration and dead silence
cowardice and courage
and all the other grey matter we face

our minds our own personal mental asylum or sole space of rest, 
caged in a slightly wider earthly cloud of pandemonium.

do we shed these thoughts and tame our emotions,
or do we think and feel more intensely?

how do we find our way through the end of this scene and start to breathe,
and also acknowledge it, hold our breath and use it as our path out?

and in The End, do we even have enough sacredness left to face You?

Blessed to have been granted access to the Zaatari Syrian refugee camp for the second time yesterday.This second visit is further proof for me how hard photojournalism really is - it’s so easy to get stuck in the moment, at times I totally forgot or felt too overwhelmed to even take photos.And it continues to amaze me how beautiful the Syrian people are, not just in their disposition but in their physical beauty - it’s a true manifestation of the inner and I’m amazed that I get to experience it.Now, to try to photograph that to share with you all is a challenge plus a million.—-Even the 2.5 hour wait at the gate was an experience in itself - getting hounded by the toughest kids I’ve seen (we had candy), who are so street smart they could probably sell my lungs on the black market for more bags of candy.After trying to hustle us, and after we let our guards down and started to muck around with them, we quickly realised these kids just need people to give them attention, and to just talk and play with them. Behind all the layers of a tough & unordinary childhood I saw the most genuinely sweet kids.But we could only realise this after wiping down our own ‘first world’ fog-covered eyes, and then chipping down at our own survival instincts and ever-present pretentiousness.So many lessons here and I haven’t even begun processing them.Pray that I have the opportunity to head out there again - and not stumble so I actually get some stories this time.

Blessed to have been granted access to the Zaatari Syrian refugee camp for the second time yesterday.

This second visit is further proof for me how hard photojournalism really is - it’s so easy to get stuck in the moment, at times I totally forgot or felt too overwhelmed to even take photos.

And it continues to amaze me how beautiful the Syrian people are, not just in their disposition but in their physical beauty - it’s a true manifestation of the inner and I’m amazed that I get to experience it.

Now, to try to photograph that to share with you all is a challenge plus a million.

—-

Even the 2.5 hour wait at the gate was an experience in itself - getting hounded by the toughest kids I’ve seen (we had candy), who are so street smart they could probably sell my lungs on the black market for more bags of candy.

After trying to hustle us, and after we let our guards down and started to muck around with them, we quickly realised these kids just need people to give them attention, and to just talk and play with them. Behind all the layers of a tough & unordinary childhood I saw the most genuinely sweet kids.

But we could only realise this after wiping down our own ‘first world’ fog-covered eyes, and then chipping down at our own survival instincts and ever-present pretentiousness.

So many lessons here and I haven’t even begun processing them.

Pray that I have the opportunity to head out there again - and not stumble so I actually get some stories this time.

"erase " | the creep experiment
building experience, identity, knowledge, spirit, work, community, connections and finding a deep-rooted place and calming reality in your existence..
..then being hit with a sick feeling in your stomach that despite all this, there is still no belonging.
a desire to be erased and lose all connection to this world and find that real place.
coupled with working on multiple projects to expose a lot of what i have ‘built’ is, as ever, sending me in a spin.
fastened to one spot, moving but not going anywhere.

behance gallery

"erase " | the creep experiment

building experience, identity, knowledge, spirit, work, community, connections and finding a deep-rooted place and calming reality in your existence..

..then being hit with a sick feeling in your stomach that despite all this, there is still no belonging.

a desire to be erased and lose all connection to this world and find that real place.

coupled with working on multiple projects to expose a lot of what i have ‘built’ is, as ever, sending me in a spin.

fastened to one spot, moving but not going anywhere.

behance gallery

a chilled and profound soak-in of the reflections -
of wadi mujib.
of a day filled with mad adventure.
of struggling against the current of an awesome waterfall,
and a rocky water-bed below my feet.
of rock-wall climbs, ropes, ripped pants and lost hijab.
life exposed at it’s bare bones.
of the insignificance of said struggle.
of the distraction of the struggle.
of when you realise to look up.
and forget your little self:
to witness the Majesty and awe-inspiring view’s above,
the brother/sister-hood shown beside,
and the freedom of having my ego lost in the current and trapped for a minute below.
no camera to hide behind the lens, no phone, no wallet, no nothing.
just clothes against on skin, under a daggy old float vest.
just humility.
just absolute perfection.
just the waterfall.
just the Manifestation of His Absolute Strength and Perpetual Beauty. 

…
photo taken at sunset with a view to the dead sea, jordan, somewhere along the road to the ‘lowest place on Earth’ and ‘prophet Lot’s cave’

a chilled and profound soak-in of the reflections -

of wadi mujib.

of a day filled with mad adventure.

of struggling against the current of an awesome waterfall,

and a rocky water-bed below my feet.

of rock-wall climbs, ropes, ripped pants and lost hijab.

life exposed at it’s bare bones.

of the insignificance of said struggle.

of the distraction of the struggle.

of when you realise to look up.

and forget your little self:

to witness the Majesty and awe-inspiring view’s above,

the brother/sister-hood shown beside,

and the freedom of having my ego lost in the current and trapped for a minute below.

no camera to hide behind the lens, no phone, no wallet, no nothing.

just clothes against on skin, under a daggy old float vest.

just humility.

just absolute perfection.

just the waterfall.

just the Manifestation of His Absolute Strength and Perpetual Beauty. 

photo taken at sunset with a view to the dead sea, jordan, somewhere along the road to the ‘lowest place on Earth’ and ‘prophet Lot’s cave’

"lurk II " | the creep experiment
skulk
loiter
lie in wait
hide
conceal oneself
take cover
keep out of sight
… 
eyes that were narrowed, thoughts that were trapped, heart that was imprisoned - once illusive & lurking in shadows; once the intriguing and mysterious creature. now the intrigued and now too curious to not show face.
these first shots represent the scratching of the heavy-façade surface, and are only a familiar-yet-uncomfortable-whiff of that daunting reality that most of us find too difficult to realise and articulate, let alone share.
i aim for this project to be a natural extraction of whatever reality is buried (and sometimes conveniently forgotten) within.

"lurk II " | the creep experiment

skulk

loiter

lie in wait

hide

conceal oneself

take cover

keep out of sight

… 

eyes that were narrowed, thoughts that were trapped, heart that was imprisoned - once illusive & lurking in shadows; once the intriguing and mysterious creature. now the intrigued and now too curious to not show face.

these first shots represent the scratching of the heavy-façade surface, and are only a familiar-yet-uncomfortable-whiff of that daunting reality that most of us find too difficult to realise and articulate, let alone share.

i aim for this project to be a natural extraction of whatever reality is buried (and sometimes conveniently forgotten) within.

"lurk I" | ‘the creep experiment’
i expect to release:
darkness
light
ugly
beauty
and the undefinable in-between.
…
my own face already reminds me how haunting this project is,
for me and for you all who are reluctant to take a deeper look at the not-so-flattering but real-of-The-Real depths within.
but we need to start diggin’.
my shovel is my camera,
what’s yours?

"lurk I" | ‘the creep experiment’

i expect to release:

darkness

light

ugly

beauty

and the undefinable in-between.

my own face already reminds me how haunting this project is,

for me and for you all who are reluctant to take a deeper look at the not-so-flattering but real-of-The-Real depths within.

but we need to start diggin’.

my shovel is my camera,

what’s yours?

it’s time to dig out the skeletons, open the monster-ridden cupboard and look under the bed.
for too long i’ve been skimming the surface of spiritual/artistic exploration.
thus: ‘the creep experiment’.
much like the art and writing i have been doing for about 2 years, it started with a need ‘to find something else, something great, something more’ than the mediocre and expected. creeped up and out of an impromptu (& very homemade) photo shoot, this project has been birthed out of a need to better define my experience and stop fluttering around with two-minute art. 
i realise my art has generated reflections on self-identity, spiritual development and striving to find God (this, at the best, but bumbling foolery at the least) and although they have been true, they’re unarticulated.
like
an undeveloped idea
an unfinished (delicious) dinner
a vain-hearted attempt
concepts only explored for a minute, truth exposed only for a moment.
thus the need to express boldly - to the point that it gashes and scars me - realise open wounds in order to heal them, instead of leaving a cancerous idea bubble under my skin and letting it consume me with regret.
all that is odd, unexpected, all that we fear (to show, to hide), and how that reflects and shapes our world and other-worldly view - to be exposed, no matter how discomforting and creepy.
(if i have learnt anything, it is that ‘otherness’ has saved me when i was otherwise drowning in mainstream un-thinking)
so let the lurking ideas start to creep and be exposed in the light to be seen clearly.

it’s time to dig out the skeletons, open the monster-ridden cupboard and look under the bed.

for too long i’ve been skimming the surface of spiritual/artistic exploration.

thus: ‘the creep experiment’.

much like the art and writing i have been doing for about 2 years, it started with a need ‘to find something else, something great, something more’ than the mediocre and expected. creeped up and out of an impromptu (& very homemade) photo shoot, this project has been birthed out of a need to better define my experience and stop fluttering around with two-minute art. 

i realise my art has generated reflections on self-identity, spiritual development and striving to find God (this, at the best, but bumbling foolery at the least) and although they have been true, they’re unarticulated.

like

an undeveloped idea

an unfinished (delicious) dinner

a vain-hearted attempt

concepts only explored for a minute, truth exposed only for a moment.

thus the need to express boldly - to the point that it gashes and scars me - realise open wounds in order to heal them, instead of leaving a cancerous idea bubble under my skin and letting it consume me with regret.

all that is odd, unexpected, all that we fear (to show, to hide), and how that reflects and shapes our world and other-worldly view - to be exposed, no matter how discomforting and creepy.

(if i have learnt anything, it is that ‘otherness’ has saved me when i was otherwise drowning in mainstream un-thinking)

so let the lurking ideas start to creep and be exposed in the light to be seen clearly.

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

Old fabric + paint rage + ink sketch.

I still don’t know what this means.
It had been in my head for weeks.

…

p.s. The sketch I did is not my design (still working on the drawing skills).

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

Old fabric + paint rage + ink sketch.

I still don’t know what this means.
It had been in my head for weeks.

p.s. The sketch I did is not my design (still working on the drawing skills).