Today is the day I might have had my penultimate day of working on my project at Tashkeel. But it is also the day I fearfully noticed that the opening of Sikka is actually next week!
It was also today I got very much disappointed with my sudden realisation of the fact that I cannot remove the palettes from underneath my sculptures, so I am afraid I need to learn how to get along well with them. I will dress them up nicely, and put some make up on, so they look a bit presentable, or just as if an intentional part of the work. (Shhhhh.. just between me and you)
Today we celebrated Fayçal’s birthday at our traditional Wednesday presentations, so I had my second cake party in two days in a row. Nasır rehearsed his magic writing box, the Story Converter. We were awarded with a lovely handmade book, in return for our illegible scribbles. He is such a lovely soul, and I really like his work that’s coming together for Sikka.
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| The first cake party, Hadeyeh's treat |
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| The second cake party, Ali's treat |
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| And this is Zeinab's treat, a pre-cake Emirati Schawarma celebration |
Today is the day I acknowledged that we officially own a cat at number 47. The talkative red cat (he is literally red, I can’t call him ginger) does not at all leave the garden, although he sees us off everyday one by one from the door, remains inside. He loves us so much! I am feeling a bit upset thinking of his future. He already looks much healthier, hope he remains like this and stores some strength for the difficult rest of his life, after April; after we leave.
Tomorrow, I am going for tree shopping, which is the one last thing left to arrange. Nasır is so nice to arrange 40kg of ground coffee from Sharjah. Fingers crossed for the amount, inşallah that will be enough.
After specifying the importance of today with a prose-poetry, I can give a short summary of what has happened in the last week.
Ali participated to one of the Art Dubai talks that took place at Downtown Pavilion, which I really like as a space. I think her presentation was very impressive, which brought a ‘fresh breath’ to what people are used to seeing and listening to. At the rest of the week, I basically worked like a construction worker continuously carrying sand with a wheel barrel, back and forth. And finally my little desert within my Dubai tower is completed. I couldn’t achieve showing cars from the arches/windows as I did not calculate the fact that sand completely acts like water, filling up every micro millimetre squares. Silicon was not enough to sand-proof the container, so I had to unscrew the bottom part, and gaffertape the box from underneath. Finally the cars got parked on the top of the sand. Waiting for people to narrate their own versions of what has happened before, and what might happen later, for this staged story within the Dubai tower.
The 13 plain frames for my studio display is completed by today, and the top shelves will be completely finished on Friday. I left some work for the film crew who is commissioned to film our process of making our work. I am very much excited about how the documentary is going to be. They have a very thoughtful process, and I don’t expect cheesy interview questions, so I already feel comfortable with their camera, as they are the makers of Teta Alf Marra, I mentioned in my previous posts. How cool is that!!
Although I am enjoying my experience and time here, I am also counting days to see Tom again.
It’s quite late now, I think I should go to bed.
Hey my love, the blog and the work look great - it's really coming on now - I love the cars buried in the sand. It's great to see this progression since I left, and of a finalising of the work. It feels like such a long time ago since I was at Tashkeel with you!
ReplyDeleteTo carry on the story at my end, I've been back in Glasgow for a week now. As soon as I had stepped in the taxi and told the inquisitive driver where I had been, he was shocked I could have left my wife of four months on her own, and in a place with far better weather than we get at our end of the Northern Hemisphere! He told me I should sell up and move straight back out there. I said I had work commitments with other people. The driver simply told me I was insane, took my cash and sped off into Maryhill, laughing into the night.
I took a walk up the river Kelvin on a day of sun that we enjoyed briefly. Remembering our Creek walks, this was rather different in a familiar sort of way. Despite the familiarity I walked with fresh-eyed amazement at everything I saw. In contrast with Dubai, a city that ritualistically cleans its dust and debris, Glasgow is like discovering all your belongings in a dusty attic room - stuff is everywhere, from the smaller and abundant blue plastic bags and lager tins that frolic amid the grass, to the crumbling derelict railway bridges that criss-cross the Kelvin.
I squeeze between tree branches to draw several discarded stacks of newspapers, swollen in the rain and straining against their plastic ties, they were now both strangely repulsive and picturesque. Car tyres dumped further up by the canal aqueduct remind me of your Glasgow tower and its tree hoopla'd by a Dubai car's tyre. I took photos, whilst passing dog walkers wondered what I was up to.
I paint a picture of grime and dereliction that's not the complete image by far. The general feel of the Kelvin walkway is of an undulating green space, a meandering river sunk deep into the landscape, canopies of tree branches intercut with monumental architectural feats. This beauty has been amassed over time - walkers now tread the paths that steam trains once took, from Maryhill station up towards the gasworks.
I get to Dawsholm Park and turn around. On my return journey I spy what seems to be a van under the furthest arch of the viaduct, incinerated and misshapen. It is something that draws me closer. I used to be so intrigued about where I'd find one of these automotive remnants that I'd draw what I found, sometimes using the rust from the cars to mark a pigment on the paper with a finger. The van I had found seemed to be more impressive than most, because to achieve this result of a grey-brown mass of twisted steel, the perpetrators must have carried the van, on foot, up a small path and over some rocks. It was clear that nothing more than a scooter could traverse this private space, so some degree of planning must have occurred to achieve the final goal of expressing societal tension through automotive vandalism. It was bizarrely impressive, and the thought dominated the rest of my walk home.
So in summary, a small walk in Glasgow always seems to bring surprises if you keep an open mind to what you find! The city always seems to surprise you, but not in the way that tourist information would have you believe.