no capitals- meeting an artist- its just the beginning.
allow me to introduce myself. my name is t. i will not write in capitals as i need to ground myself. i am an struggling starving artist who works as an art teacher at ibn khuldoon national school for 8. my sister and i run an art studio in sar which is our love. we explore art and promote the concept that we should not be afraid of our art. it should be afraid of us!!!
a very dear friend of mine, ms m, told me about an artist she had invited to Bahrain. she showed me his picture on facebook and he looked like a psycho. we really do judge books by their cover. i told her to be careful and not to trust him. a man from Pakistan with a beard and also an artist who has agreed to come to visit us here and we don’t have to pay for it. what was the catch? this was too easy. i didn’t know artists would visit even if you didn’t pay for it. turned out he loved ms m’s honesty on not being able to arrange payment for his travel, accommodation and all. the artist arrived. apparently we were supposed to meet. it was arranged by ms m, mr a-z and dr k.
i enjoy kids yoga. i love monkeying around and doing the snake pose, elephant pose, sun salutation and of course my all time favorite the lion pose. it was a sunday session. I had 15 kids of my kindergarten 2 yoga session waiting to start. we were about to take our shoes and socks off and get into criss-cross position. i was wearing jeans, worn out at the knees, a blue t-shirt- my kohl smudged around my eyes from the days work- i looked like a panda. my hair was a frizz ball featuring colors like silver, brown, light brown and not to forget that streak of hair which was previously dyed turquoise and then became green, dirty green and vomit green and then dyed brown which became green brown and then chocolate brown and at that moment golden brown.
mr a-z comes to the door and says ‘ we have been looking for you.’ standing next to mr a-z is a man wearing a black kurta (long shirt) and lungi (skirt) and a turban. the turban was very heavy on the top. he had a salt n pepper (more on the salty side) beard with these curled fat whiskers on both sides on the top of his mouth. his nose was bent to the right. he wore a reddish orange beaded necklace tucked behind his kurta. a twinkle in his eye- with a smile he said ‘asalaamualaikum’. he was wearing slippers and i could see he wore a toe ring on his left second toe. so do i!!!
he stood demurely with his hand clasped behind his back and listened to me as i introduced myself and in my broken Urdu we had a conversation. why speak Urdu when he spoke perfect English. things we do! so mr a-z is joking about resurrecting nusrat fateh ali khan for the sake of music while this man stood there in ‘at ease’ position. the kids inside the classroom were going crazy. i could hear them getting louder. they were about to jump off the walls. so i quickly excused myself. i shook his hand and i went to back in class.
this was my first meeting with mr ybq.
i still had no idea who mr ybq was. facebook and youtube are stalkers haven.
this is the start of a gorgeous collaboration. this is just the beginning.
no capitals- only humble beginnings