as an artist and part-time thinker, i am so offended by everything that has gone on in the past ten days and still going on today; not by the authorities, not by the censorship (which is the issue here but for all the wrong reasons), but by the way events were manipulated to garner sympathy and attention for one individual
That’s it. For days I have been quiet about this crazy self-inflicted-closing-down-of-Shurooq-Amin’s-exhibition fiasco. And all over a blatantly made-to-piss-off-the-authorities exhibition. Both the ‘artist’ and ‘curator’ of the gallery knew that the paintings were going to ruffle some conservative feathers. Amin herself said in a rather ominous (and terribly self-aggrandized) interview in Bazaar magazine that she hoped this wouldn’t get her in trouble with the authorities (wink wink nudge nudge). But her concern, much to her delight I’m sure, did come true, not surprisingly. And what upsets me most is that in all the hooplah, art got lost. Has anyone actually seen the works? Sticking a few photos of Johnny Walker whiskey bottles here and there doesn’t make a work controversial, just offensive both to the simple-minded conservative and to higher intelligence people everywhere. Whoever phoned the police (is that how it works? I called the police once over something far more life-threatening and they said to call them if anything bad happened) was a peabrain. And that’s not something to brag about. He was just someone who seemed to be on the same intellectual level as the artist, whose highly reductive works can only be understood and appreciated by simpletons.
So I want people to question what the real fuss is about. It sucks that we have censorship. But what this ‘artist’ did was set a sort of trap, with a lure, and waited for the fish to bite. And they did. Because to many like her, there is no such thing as bad publicity.
Censorship is not a laughing matter, and this self-professed artist has hi-jacked the issue to bring attention to herself and her work. You don’t need to resort to gimmickry like shooting your paintings or sticking bottles of whiskey all over your canvas to trigger controversy. I think that most legitimately controversial works of art, literature and theater arise organically from an artist’s innermost self; works whose aim is to create a dialogue. Not stir up trouble.
This debacle has upset me so much, because all of a sudden this person is the (big)mouthpiece for art and artists in this country. And none of it is about the art itself. Just someone who wants to be a celebrity, something she can smugly tick off her bucket list. There are many legitimate artists in Kuwait who create quietly. It doesn’t matter if they have exhibited or not, because they are happily painting, drawing, photographing, writing and just being. The fact that they are artists just happens to be a part of who they are.
I am not accepting any more comments on this post. I noticed that although most of them were intelligent (and intelligible) and presented solid opinions, I was receiving some from people obviously very close to Shurooq which were quite accusatory and unfounded. I don’t quite know how to respond to those comments. I have no problems with others disagreeing with me, but these comments (although they came from different e-mails, they shared the same judgmental resonance and arrived just minutes apart) should have been a little more solid and a lot less catty. And I have a feeling they would have been coming all night. I don’t have the time nor the patience for it. And I won’t let this be turned into a battle between Shurooq and me, nor an invitation to a public bashing of either one of us, because I think I’m a little brighter and higher on the evolutionary ladder than that. I won’t be pulled into a Shurooq vs Ghadah boxing match (frankly I think she’d kick my ass) because people who really know me know that’s not what I’m about. Up to this point, I have been minding my own business, keeping my opinions about many things to myself because a. I know precisely how many here would react: not with well-founded argumentative discussion, but with over-flowing emotions and rude accusations, and b. I’m happy doing what I do, am loved by the ones I love and have a home I’m crazy about.
I am keeping the post up because I still stand by what I wrote.
Like this:
Filed under: Rants & Raves, Second Spiral Sketchbook, Sketchbook | Tags: sketch
i saw a guy in a huge hummer this morning, phone in one hand (against the law) and throwing garbage out his window with the other. a kuwaiti. how can i accept that he and i originate from the same country? the problem is, people like him are breeding like bunnies
I am a Kuwaiti. Am I proud to be a Kuwaiti? No. Before you take out your punching gloves, I want you to think hard about the term ‘proud to be’ and what it is to be proud of this country, my country. Now, do I love Kuwait? Yes. Passionately. And every day I fight for it. I fight by honking my horn when I increasingly see people rolling down the windows of their fancy cars to throw out a tissue or crumpled up cigarette box. I fight for my country by minding my garbage output. I fight for it by raising three decent (well, most of the time anyway) individuals who I hope will follow my lead as a Kuwaiti fighting for her country. But until the majority of the people of Kuwait start loving it the same manner I and many like me love it, I can’t bring myself to say that I’m proud to be Kuwaiti. But I sure as hell am trying to make it a place my children will be proud to say they are from. (more…)
Filed under: Rants & Raves, Sometimes I think I'm a photographer | Tags: car, crash, photo, wreck
it used to be a car. now it's a story
Yesterday, I took these photos of a terrible car wreck. I debated with myself whether these are considered ‘art’ or not. I did post them on Facebook. But am I being lewd and exploitative by posting them here (or there, for that matter!)? I may be sick, but I find great beauty in this wreckage. It’s not cool that it happened, and it’s not cool that most likely the person who was driving this is dead. But if I remove that from the final result- the wreck and these photos-is it possible to filter out the tragedy and be left with a painful reminder in the form of an onsite installation? People were actually driving to what’s left of this Lincoln Town Car to take photos. Many of these people were with their uniformed kids (this is where I park to pick up my children after school) who had brought along cameras (the crash is three days old today). I saw at least three dads come through with their children, commenting on the wreckage, shaking their heads and tut-tutting. Would they have gone to an art gallery to see this specimen of modern day ruins? Or is it up to the artist to dub this a work of art, take it to its next evolutionary stage? I don’t know. I just feel strongly that I have to hope I’m forgiven by whoever it was in this car for posting these photos. (more…)
Botamba continue to display their professional ineptitude and outright rudeness. A few days ago I posted this and this. I have to say that I apologize to the blogs that I mentioned because as of today, one of them has been removed from this so-called aggregator. The owner of the freshly removed blog contacted me today with his grievances towards the site. He forwarded me both his letter to the site’s owner concerning preferentialism and the owner’s response. Apparently Botamba is selective to what they deem worthy of retweeting. This is an excerpt from Mr. Stillsearching’s second letter to Botamba:
listen, you either offer a service, or you don’t.
what about the tweets?
speechless
These are the morons who are empowered to tell you what you should and should not see on the net. I originally posted this and then deleted it when I got a comment that my PrettyGreenBullet blog was in fact on Botamba. But Raw Epistle was still rejected. I finally got their reply and this is it:
Dear Ghadah,
Sorry I could not reply on time cause I am on travel.
anyone for a round of irony?
reject reject
A few days ago, I submitted my two blogs to Botamba, an RSS aggregator for Kuwait and the Gulf’s blogs. Yesterday, I checked their site to find that my babies were rejected. I was both upset and amused. Someone actually went through my blogs and thought: hmmm, no. Not good enough. So I’m thinking maybe I should start my own feed. Only problem is I’d probably only have two or three blogs on mine, including thestillsearchingblog, raine’s rants ‘n raves and thuraya lynn. Everything else just seems to be a sub-aggregator of everything else in the whole wide world.
A friend of mine asked me, ‘Does it really matter that you’re not on Botamba?’ And my answer was no. Of course no. But I need a reason why. I wrote twice to them and no reply, not even an acknowledgment that they have received my emails. So for some shitty little nerdy chicken shit to reject two of what I consider higher quality blogs, I need an explanation.
Filed under: My Friends & Me, Rants & Raves | Tags: 50, charity, give, states, volunteer
Queen Me
I want to change the world! How about being more specific? How about starting small? How about taking teeny tiny steps instead of making gigantic proclamations? I hear it everyday. And that’s all I do. Hear it. I never see anything materializing whether I’m involved or not. The number of times I’ve been asked to be a part of something: design a logo, write an article, paint a picture for someone, and not have it followed up is astounding; the rule rather than the exception. I’m sick and tired of the bullshitters who just waste my time.
Now here is the way things ought to be done: 50 Give, launched by Keith Donohue last February: Keith says:
“My name is Keith Donohue and I will be driving, flying, or boating to each of the 50 states, as well as Washington, D.C., Mexico, and Canada, to volunteer in each location for a different non-profit, charity, or worthy cause.”
I admire Keith, who I know through my brother Mohammed (the original bromancers), for going through with and being so passionate about his dream. I so respect the way he had this well thought-out vision which he solidified with a well thought-out plan. He didn’t want to change the world. He just wanted to do whatever he was put on this earth to do, to make whatever difference he could, wherever he went. And he’s doing it in a Honda which gives him extra marks in my book.
He is not congratulating himself for what he is doing. He does not regard himself as some kind of a Messiah. He is just doing what he is doing. And I hope he gets all the support he needs to get him through the trip. It’s not about self-glory or getting silly votes (ahem). It’s just what it was, is and hopefully going to be.
Filed under: Rants & Raves, Sketchbook | Tags: drawing, pencil, portrait, realism, sketch
Yes. I think it is. But sometimes I think maybe it’s not so important. In an age where artistic power is handed to us by the likes of Photoshop, Painter and Illustrator, I think a mind-blowingly good idea, composition and use of color may just compensate for the fact that someone who calls themselves an artist can’t draw. But that’s what the outcome has to be: mind-blowing. Otherwise, the use of visual arts software is just a lazy tool for those who skipped Drawing 101. Of course there are also the visual, audio, touch, taste-related manifestations of art which don’t necessarily focus on the ‘old-fashioned’ notion of transferring objects to paper, but I’m going to keep it simple. Is the ability to draw important anymore?
Filed under: Rants & Raves, The Book of Traffic Lights & Other Observations | Tags: air, awful, experience, horrible, kuwaiti, oman, rant, rave, youth
still unaware of what was to come
part one
Part two. Reading my third page entry above, I was still unaware of the psychosis of passenger (I desperately want to say ‘patient’) 12E. And this is not in hindsight, I promise. The moment I got up to let him slide through to his seat, I had a bad feeling about him. No smile, no ‘excuse me’, just an emotionless swipe through the space between my knees and the seat in front of me. A lifeless plunk into his seat followed by (and this is in hindsight-rather hindknowledge) glances over at my children and at my diary. Harmless, I thought. My notebook does tend to attract attention, and not always favorable. As I mentioned in my diary, he was making whistling sounds. Well, they were more like kissy noises, like someone chirping to get a bird’s attention. He’s a nervous flyer, I thought.
When we were airborne he started fidgeting with the tray in front of him: open, close, open, close, open, close, something a child would do until reprimanded by one of his parents. Again, all harmless. But then the food came. (more…)
typical
A few days ago, an article about me was published in a certain Kuwaiti online magazine. I read it and it more or less reflected who I am and that was that. I don’t know what prompted me to check back again yesterday but as I looked through the article, I had to do a double take. There was a picture published that 1)wasn’t there the first time I saw the post, and 2)wasn’t mine at all (the painting, that is). I immediately e-mailed the author, Deepa Pant, letting her know of the mistake and expressed my wonder at how and why the photo got there, and well after the article was published. She immediately (sorry to go into painful detail but it’s all important to the ridiculousness of the story and the gross unprofessionalism I experienced) wrote back to tell me she had no idea about the photo. Together, we made a concerted effort to get the photo removed. She e-mailed the magazine (cc-ing me), and I both e-mailed the magazine and left a comment on the post (which appeared but was awaiting moderation). And then I waited. This was around 3:00 or 4:00 pm.
The picture remained for several hours. I checked if my comment had been published: it had been rejected because it wasn’t there anymore. I’ll come back to this later. 8:31 pm I got an e-mail from Deepa that the photograph had finally been removed, neither one of us having heard from the magazine. Now here comes the rant: (more…)
Filed under: Rants & Raves, The Kuwait Scene | Tags: huda lutfi, opinion, Sultan Gallery, zan'it al-sittat
it's interesting to me how this gesture has totally different meaning when facing outwards (resigned, tired, dead) than inwards (impatient, anticipating, alive). i have a love affair with hands, so you can imagine my delight at seeing and interacting with this installation
I can’t believe it took me this long to finally make it to Huda Lutfi’s exhibition Zan’it Al-Sittat. Honestly, I just forgot and remembered late last week that this jewel existed in the midst of Sabhan’s warehouses and factories. I walked into the gallery and squeaked with delight (I think I may have even quietly applauded). Moldings of hands, busts, bottles and shoes interspersed between two-dimensional collages of warm-colored, antiquated paintings. The lay-out, of which I heard second-hand that the artist herself thought was sparse, was actually quite neat, and to quote Goldilocks, ‘Juuust right’.
Now, for a little note of clarification: this is not a review. I’m not a writer/critic/journalist. I’m just someone who has my opinions and enjoys voicing them. A few days ago I had some pretty scathing commentary on one of my ‘reviews‘. These comments were designed to insult my work, depth of knowledge and (for some reason, most offensively) vocabulary, without submitting a single constructive bit of enlightenment to me or my guests. But I still felt that I should take the comments as a lesson for the future, because under all this person’s anger, he/she made some valid points. I decided to be, from now on, more prepared and knowledgable of the exhibitions I attend. So today I actually read through a press release by The Third Line Gallery, who represents Huda Lutfi. Did it help me appreciate Lutfi’s work more? Absolutely not. No body of writing can replace the carnal feeling I got in my gut when I saw her work. Maybe it helped me understand where she’s coming from, but not how I feel. So lesson taken, applied, failed and discarded (more…)
Filed under: Derwent Journal Three, Rants & Raves, Sketchbook | Tags: derwent, journal, kuwaiti, rants, raves, Sketchbook, wedding
I don’t get Kuwaiti weddings. I really don’t.
Last night I was sweet-talked by my mom into pretty-please dropping by a cousin’s daughter’s wedding party (you know, since I was going to two exhibitions and what was one more event anyway. At 10 pm. When my bedtime is 9:30). I literally wanted to cry after wishy-washily agreeing to this because I had just spent that day and the day before preparing for a big Palestinian embroidery exhibition. I was dreading going out at all last night, let alone sealing it with an obnoxious Kuwaiti wedding. Which brings me back to my point: I don’t get Kuwaiti weddings. (more…)
Filed under: Derwent Journal Three, Rants & Raves, Sketchbook | Tags: bitch, couture, haute, Kuwait, rant, rave
Haute couture (French for “high sewing” or “high dressmaking”; pronounced: [ot kutyʁ], English pronunciation: /ˌoʊt kuːˈtʊər/) refers to the creation of exclusive custom-fitted clothing. Haute couture is made to order for a specific customer, and it is usually made from high-quality, expensive fabric and sewn with extreme attention to detail and finished by the most experienced and capable seamstresses, often using time-consuming, hand-executed techniques. Couture is a common abbreviation of haute couture and refers to the same thing in spirit.[1]
I was introduced by a friend of mine to a fashion snob the other night. I’ll get straight to my story (via a small diversion because I’m feeling a little catty and I think deservedly so because any kind of snob really gets my goat). At a certain gallery which shall not be named, my friend called over this Amazonian woman and told her to ‘meet my friend, Ghadah.’ ‘Ghadah, this is [*bleep* boy's name], [*bleep*, this is Ghadah].’ I was about to correct my friend in quite a well-natured manner that *bleep* is actually a man’s name, until it miraculously dawned on me, before putting my big, fat foot in my mouth, that *bleep* wasn’t a hot woman at all but a disturbingly (and unfairly) pretty man. (more…)
Filed under: Derwent Journal Three, Rants & Raves, Sketchbook | Tags: commentary, derwent, journal, rant, rave, Sketchbook
When I started this blog I was hoping that it would serve as some kind of forum for discussion of subjects both serious and puerile. I don’t know. Maybe I’m flattering myself in thinking that my drawings could provoke some kind of a written reaction from people. Perhaps I’m delusional in assuming that if one is presented with a ludicrous illustration, then one would want to put one’s two cents in. Where every opinion is welcome and replied to with childish fervor and enthusiasm, PrettyGreenBullet provides the tiny spark required to ignite the infinite ridiculousness this world has to offer. So be ridiculous. For there’s no one here but us fruit loops.
Filed under: Derwent Journal Three, Rants & Raves | Tags: appendicitis, appendix, derwent, hospitals, journal, Kuwait, rant, rave, Sketchbook
forgot the stamp
You know how I’ve been feeling really sick lately? I got a little better, then crashed back down again. Yesterday morning I woke up with a sharp pain in my right side. I was on my back the whole day watching TV wondering what the fuck was wrong with me. Then a thought came to my head that perhaps it was a hernia. By nighttime, I was convinced it was a hernia and that I needed to see the doctor first thing in the morning. Hernia meant so many things: no exercise (boo and hooray), no more getting sick like this, and hello to being pampered for the rest of my life by my children who I was planning on making feel quite guilty for all the years I spent picking up after them! This morning at the hospital, no such luck with my evil plans. (more…)
Filed under: Rants & Raves, Z's Painting by G | Tags: child, drawing, painting, rain, rants, raves, said
zainab's painting by ghadah
I don’t know if it’s the rain (I do cherish this kind of weather, but perhaps not for too long), or if I miss my children, or I have the misfortune of dealing daily with unprofessional, inconsiderate fuckers, but I’ve been pretty maudlin all day. I don’t think it’s the rain. And at the end of a pretty fruitless morning of driving around and getting nothing constructive done, it just felt natural and necessary to paint a picture. I wanted to do something that was so removed from myself so I started off with some haphazard drawings and somehow ended up channeling my ten-year-old daughter and her happy, innocent drawings.
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Filed under: Postcards, Rants & Raves | Tags: driving, honk, ink, Kuwait, moron, rant, rave, watercolor
rude
I’m really not trying to be rude. I try to be the most polite I can be, but sometimes interacting with other people in this country puts your best behavior to the test. You just want to say, “May you drown in your own camel piss, you honking, self-important, microphallic armpit!” But instead you take the civilized route, and still end up being pissed on. Ugh.
Filed under: Derwent Journal, Rants & Raves, Sketchbook | Tags: ink, isograph, Kuwait, maids, rant, slavery, spoiled brats
I was at PQ Palms yesterday for brunch and I saw something that, if I had eaten my breakfast, I would have brought it right back up. This is not new to me, and I see it all the time at my children’s school, but yesterday morning it really disgusted me and I don’t know how much longer I can keep my mouth shut. I saw this 14/15 year old girl, walking ahead of her Ethiopian maid, typing away at her Blackberry, oblivious to everything and everyone around her. The maid (excuse me, nanny) was trailing behind holding the girl’s bag, a cardboard tray with two coffees, and the girl’s pink-jacketed iPad. How come nobody told me that slaves were the new must-haves? And how come I don’t have one? I want my slave!
A few years ago I read the book Veronica Decides to Die by Paolo Coelho. There were many poignant parts but the story that stuck out the most, and that I still remember, was the allegory of the well. It summed up my existence in this mad desert. Every day gets more difficult for me in this country, this society. Of course people might jump to the conclusion that I am being anti-nationalistic, but it’s quite the opposite. Every chance I get I fight for this country, because at the end of the day I want this to be a society that I am happy to live in, one that I can say I’m proud to be a part of. But sometimes I feel like I’m the only madwoman here, that everyone else has it right: from the corruption and the arrogance (all ages, all strata) to the educational system and our governing body (can’t talk too deeply about this because honestly I can’t keep up with what’s going on) to the way people drive, so uncivilized and revolting. Everything is so ugly, but I am the madwoman. Which takes me back to the story of the well.
I can’t remember the details of the story, but basically (I think-my memory may have altered it a little to suit my situation, I don’t know) there was this kingdom of more or less sane people and everyone was more or less happy on a more or less similar wavelength. Then someone discovered a well, drank from it and went mad. I can’t remember why but ultimately everyone drank from this well. Everyone but the King and Queen, who eventually decided to drink from it to keep their sanity (by going insane like everyone else).
Really. It’s all fucked up. But I’ll never drink from the well.
Filed under: Rants & Raves, The Book of Traffic Lights & Other Observations | Tags: colorful, diary, Kuwait, leather book, markers
