5.09.2017

the angry art days

like people, I have come to accept the fact that art too gets angry and mad and out of control. It cannot be about the beautiful things of life all the time and sometimes when I pick up pens and papers to make something, everything but the satisfaction of a well-crafted piece stares me back.

welcome to the angry art days

angry art days is just a term floating in my mind that justifies my lack of inspiration. These days, where I cannot make things exactly how I want or string words to compose poetry that reflects everything precisely, are hard to endure. I feel like there is someone else roaming around in my body that even my mirror fails to recognize. On angry art days, I cannot recognize myself anymore.

causes:
I am unsure what is the real cause but more or less, it's the lack of concentration for me. I am guilty of doing things because they are supposed to be done. Perhaps art minds that to an extent where it just stops happening at all.

cures:
there is no cure that works all the time. But just trying making/writing/sketching things in spite of their flaws keeps me going, making me optimistic that at the end of the day, maybe art will not be angry anymore and will come back home.

here is my favorite writing piece on art from my poetry notebook
you asked me
how i made art 
and
i used all
long, shiny, pretentious, 
words

but the truth
is different 
i never made art 
i brought the hurricanes 
sobs, revenge, stories
on the stark white sheet

and it looked
something like
art — it was art

here I am, typing this post away amidst the peak of my angry art days. I don't know how long it would take for the inspiration and willpower to return to me; seconds, minutes, days or weeks. But it will because I am taking up the only cure I know: fixing it with making whatever remains of art I am left with.

in the chaos, I got th beautiful beautiful news of my blog being shortlisted for Blogosphere Magazine awards' category of arts & craft. Just being nominated among allthe creative and amazing people has been a wonderful feeling, but if you could take a minute or two out to vote for my blog, I would be so grateful.
You can vote for Noor's Place here

*throws confetti everywhere*
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5.05.2017

the story of poetry at unexpected places ft. fan art

my (supposed) composition:
70% water
28% other scientific elements
2% poetry

poetry is no longer just an arrangement of words; it now resides in me, reflects in everything I do, it's a part that completes me.

I started sharing my poetry in art journals. They were the reason I couldn't stop writing. But even before writing journals, I was obsessed with the words scrawled on the walls in the name of urban poetry, strangers leaving random notes in libraries for others to read, people taking their favorite books to the top of mountains or skyscrapers and sharing their favorite words in the stunning photos taken at the top of the world. This distribution of words under one messy unsystematic manner was beautiful.

After writing poetry in journals for so long, I wanted to do something more. Something that would spread the poetic words around or at least let them breathe somewhere that wasn't a book. In this dilemma, my poetry at unexpected places series came into existence. It all started with me scribbling a poetry piece on my bathroom's tiled wall with a non-permanent marker and sticking a torn page of an old book and a stick of dried flowers. You can see that piece here.

That was a start of something entirely new for me. I started writing on walls, on torn old pages and sometimes sticking them on the walls of abandoned buildings. I had to clean those words up, take those pages off the wall, afterward. But at least the words pouring out of my pen were breathing for a while, they weren't stuck in the bounded paper anymore. Poetry was going to all the places it wouldn't normally be found at; poetry at unexpected places.

here are my top favorites from this series:
it's okay 
if you're burning 
with anger 
or sadness 
or both 
it is necessary 
for you to collapse
so you can learn
how phoenixes are
reborn
when they burn 
and rise again
from the ashes of
their existence' — burn and rise // poetry at unexpected places pt. 28 

i am building 
a house

where the floor is 
made up of strength 
where the walls are
crafted of ambition 
where the roof is
a masterpiece of forgiveness 
i am building 
myself' — i am building // poetry at unexpected places pt. 23

someday 
something 
will go
terribly, utterly, horribly 
wrong 
one day
everything 
will be fine

our lives
swing between 
that one day
and someday

so why do you worry
about it
everyday // poetry at unexpected places pt. 25 
isn't it
breathtakingly beautiful 
how you've learned 
to grow flowers
from the memories 
that died 
a long time ago — to a work-in-progress self // poetry at unexpected places pt. 34 
i am learning 
how to say strong 
in different languages 
for if i ever forget
the sound of this word
in my own language 
those words
could remind me
there are more 
words
chances
worlds
where mine
ends — learning to say strong (guys let me know how to say 'strong' in your language) // poetry at unexpected places pt. 32 
Darling,
self discovery isn't always 
about the most convenient ways
you'll have to burn, learn and yearn
the unexpected, the unusual and the unknown // poetry at unexpected places pt. 20

you're not only a 'she' 
or a 'her'
make your name sound 
like something 
completely, terrifyingly, beautifully 
out of this world — azeez aurton (dear women) for #WomenHistoryMonth // poetry at unexpected places pt. 22

when everything comes crashing down
i hope you're wearing 
that faint little smile 
for an end is near
and a start is nearer // poetry at unexpected places pt. 18

you had a face
that looked like serenity 
and words
that did not smell
of contempt 
and your existence 
reminded me
of sunsets and ocean waves
yet
you still wonder
what it took
for me to fall
for someone like
you — a poem about you // poetry at unexpected places pt. 29 

you are
the peace after wars
the calm after storms 
and everything 
insanely beautiful 
that shapes after
a tragedy // poetry at unexpected places pt. 37

I started receiving hundreds of entries (fan art, art recreations, my poetry in other people's journals) on instagram and I upload them on my insta-stories. It always isn't possible to catch up ith all of them but I try the hardest. I am sharing some entries that scream the concept of poetry at unexpected places for me. I am so grateful to everyone who made my words come alive and let them breathe in the cities and countries I have never been to yet my words have become a part of their air.
Natalie wrote my poetry on her shirt (somewhere in Florida)

Prakriti took this breathtakingly beautiful shot with my poetry piece at the mountains (Kuari Pass, India)

Hilal also took poetry at unexpected places 

Summer made this lovely journal entry with my poetry whilst sitting at Espresso Lab (Malaysia)

Laura hung my words in a GORGEOUS frame (Coimbra, Portugal)

@drawing_jazzyeebo did this lettering with my poetry (Hong Kong)

Megha took this shot somewhere in the air and paired it with my poetry

Anna did this piece on a typewriter (Georgia) 

Sadina also took poetry at unexpected places (Bangladesh)

if you too have made something with my poetry, make sure to send it to me (either via email, instagram or in the mail).

poetry doesn't have to be exactly as how we have always seen it. read abd write and take it everywhere with you; the words don't belong to a single person, they are universe's masterpiece and we gotta make the most out of them.
till next time
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let me show you the ~artsy~ Karachi in this travel vlog

4.25.2017

a visual story: intuition

in·tu·i·tion
ˌint(y)o͞oˈiSH(ə)n/
noun
the ability to understand something immediately, without the need for conscious reasoning.




I remember me
as a kid who believed
all the things that shone 

the sun, the stars, those beautiful words capable of working out wars 

but after all these years
here I sit
with a world with all these things
but the magic is gone 

I wonder if it's the reality 
blocking the light

or if it's just that
my intuition no longer seeks what's right

I remember being emotionally connected with this word after finish The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho. It was a book I shouldn't have read. For the philosophy of life described in it was not for a YA-obsessed kid that I was back in those years. I would have got more wisdom out of it than I did.
There was this word 'omen' repeatedly mentioned in The Alchemist; the signs from the great universe that would lead to great things in life. It was around that time that I was googling words like omen and came across intuition and other literally magical words of that sort. A lot of those words vanished away but what stayed was intuition.

Today, let me tell you the story of this word.

Going back to The Alchemist's story, the boy in the book learns to trust omens and his intuition through different things - weather, people, birds. The whole set up was so fascinating for me that I, too, started to find clues from the universe and destiny to show me ways to understand things. Those things were of a different sort; I thought it could enable me to see things before they happened, who to trust or understanding people in a spiritual manner.

I tried mastering the control of my intuition but it didn't work out. Now that I look at my super-19-year-old wisdom, intuition wasn't a toy to play for an adolescent. There were things I thought would TOTALLY happen because I could sense it but they didn't happen; they were never supposed to happen. My intuition wasn't guiding me as if it wasn't there at all.

I was partly disheartened after my little experiment. It seemed to me that the universe didn't want me to be the one who could understand its signs and clues. And I lost the power of decision making to an extent that I wouldn't even trust something I saw with my own eyes. That time was difficult, very difficult. It took me ages to get over the games of intuition yet every time something like the presence of omens is discussed, I am always a little uncomfortable.

Honestly, I do think (even firmly now) that the universe leaves us signs of events before they happen. A lot of people with a strong intuition and six senses can understand them before the rest of us. I, too, have felt the occurrence of an event way before it happened and this feeling did prepare me to face whatever was coming. This feeling doesn't feel alien or something too out of the world anymore. I am happy with my intuition. But only a few of us know the full story. Hey, but now you do, too.


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