This took nine months to make

On the 24th of September, at 6.35pm I gave birth to a healthy baby boy after a not so easy delivery.I'll be taking a break from my blogging for obvious reasons. Bringing this little one into the world has been the most challenging experience I have ever had, yet I know theres so much to be thankful. Anyway, before I start bawling my eyes out thanks to the hormonal hurricane Im being subjected to, Im trying now, with each step, to make my way into the world not just as Khairun, but as Isaacs mama.

Eid Mubarak

I'm not sure if I have ever mentioned this before, but I was born and raised a muslim alongside my four siblings. I didn't have the easiest time with it, what with being born in London and seeing how different my family was to those of my friends. I grew up under alot of traditional rules of behaviour, a combination of cultural and religious practice. On top of it my mother was very keen to enforce a frugal way of life. So that is, as you can imagine, a hell of alot for a 14 year-old whose life existed around wanting to have friends and fit in. I never had birthday parties, never went to the cinema, never wore jeans, never went out at night. Saturdays were spent studying the Koranic scriptures, visiting random family relatives, staying at home with my siblings and reading books from the local library. I never brought friends round because at the time, the area where we were growing up, racism and zenophobia pervaded the air with nasty comments and anti-social behaviour by groups of teenagers in the area. So my parents stuck to socialising with people from within the asian community because it just felt more comfortable and welcoming, and in a way , they probably felt like it was better all round to stay on their own turf, so to speak. Obviously, I went to a school that didn't allow such selective segregation, which of course, was great, so I had friends from all sorts of backgrounds. But as soon as the school day ended, I was back into the world that my friends were not allowed to penetrate. Alot of it because of their parents conservative attitudes, but also because of my familys decision to not be more inclusive. I wasn't strong enough at the time to be truly proud of my upbringing and had no clue that perhaps my friends would have liked to have been included in this other part of my life. So, out of my own insecurities, I found myself literally leading a double life. By not merging one into the other, i thought I was avoiding potential disaster. It just seemed like the right thing to do, for my family to not know too much about who I hung out with, what I really wanted to do with my life (be an artist, travel, not have an arranged marriage) and for my friends to not know too much about how I was brought up (not wearing the traditional clothes when I was around them, not inviting them to my house etc). The day I moved out to go to university, I cooked a traditional meal, went to my tiny student hall bedroom and ate with my right hand, some rice with lentils and vegetables. I was 19 and didnt know how to use a knife and fork because every meal that I had eaten up until that day had always been with my right hand. But because I had lead this double life for so long, I just couldnt bring myself to show this.
Ten years on, I've gone back to that lonely image of myself sitting on my bed, eating alone and I think to myself now, NEVER AGAIN am I going to keep that side of me a secret. And so I didn't. I didnt have an arranged marriage, but I had a muslim wedding. I kept Antonio out of my parents life for several years. Now i make it a point to make sure they speak to each other over the phone, and let bygones be by gones. I cook traditional food alot more and share recipes with friends. And I plan on making sure that this baby has not only a loving upbringing but a colourful one too, filled with stories about his great grandmother who to this day has never taken one step outside her village in Bangladesh, about Antonios grandfather who was a professional basketball player in the mid forties, about summers spent on Portuguese beaches, and on the otherside of the world looking out at the endless paddy fields near my mothers village. I want my little man to experience two vastly different worlds, seemingly impossible to bring together, but brought together nonetheless, down to the simple act of love between two people. There will be Christmas presents shared between him and his Portuguese cousins, and the celebration of Eid with his Bengali cousins. This will be my gift to him.
It's Eid today. I'm not with my family as much as I would like to be, but I'm wishing them well as I write this. The difference between this year and last year is that for the first time, Im talking more about it with my friends, with Antonios family and to those who have made it to the end of this very long post!

On the day a baby is born, muslim parents say a special prayer, whispered into the ear of their newborn, which protects them from harm. I may not be the most religious person in the world, but I think this is such a beautiful gesture and I am very proud to have been brought up surrounded by these intricate, delicate gestures of faith.
So I wish you all a very Happy Eid, regardless of your background. I hope that you have a lovely peaceful day with your family and friends and more importantly, that you are being kind to yourself in the best way you know how. Share something about yourself that you haven't shared before. Let people get to know you better. That's the biggest lesson I am taking from today.

Here are a few photos of that muslim wedding I fought to have. Who was the person telling me not to do it? It was me. I was my own worst enemy at the time, listening to the voice that kept saying it wasn't the right thing to do because Antonio wouldn't be accepted and it would be too difficult to do such a thing. I'm glad I didn't listen because seeing my parents meet my husband for the first time, was the happiest day of my life.

My mum would never believe I made this :)

With the most atrocious hand sewing skills that you could possibly imagine, I managed to come up with this lumpy but very squishable toy for my baby. It's called a grab ball.It's supposed to be good for developing the 'grabbing' instinct because of all the different segments that are small enough to hold on to, unlike a standard soft ball.I never once thought in a million years, that I would be able to do something like this. Despite my mother being an expert seamstress, whipping up dresses and skirts for me and my sisters as we were growing up, I just never picked up the sewing bug. We had a monster of a sewing machine at home, the big industrial kind. My mum must have used the constant whirring sounds to put me to sleep when I was a baby, and I remember being a little girl and getting totally peed off because I couldn't hear anything on the telly due to the sheer noise. I kinda feel bad now that I hadn't taken an interest in it back then, because I could have learnt so much. And not just sewing, but knitting and embroidery too. My mum did it all, whilst raising 5 kids!
Looking back and having this quiet time to think about all of this does make me feel closer to her and to my family in general. I think this is all part of the current hormonal rollercoaster ride that I'm on right now. I have been going through alot lately, in between the joyful moments of this pregnancy, Ive had my fairshare of frustration and sadness, which I probably don't let on too much as I like to hide behind my art work and general busybee self. I think I'll dedicate a future post to this subject, in the hope that it may be read by somebody else out there in the blogosphere,a new mummy or not, who may benefit from reading it. For now though, I'm off for a cheerful cup of tea and another doll making session.
Have a lovely weekend peeps!

It's oh so quiet..

Because theres no baby yet!
Having all this time at home, all this free time to do whatever I please, is abit like having Disneyland to yourself but without any of your friends to share the fun and games with.I absolutely love the time that I'm having now, I really do. I haven't had this much time from work for ages,so it feels like I'm learning the skills of being at home. It sounds strange to say that there are skills involved but i really think there are. When you go from working day in day out, and only ever getting to see your couch, your T.V your bedroom at a certain time of the day, its a real joy in knowing that there is a light that floods the livingroom around late afternoonish, that my neighbour listens to Billie Holiday on a record player in his garden which I had never known before, and that I get to sit outside on my balcony whilst it's still light which I had never done before either. I also notice how tempting housework can be, just to feel more productive. For me to feel like this in particular is a highly disturbing revelation!
But theres a downside to all this. The house is so quiet, and as much as I enjoy my time, it's a time that spreads out into an unknown point which scares me a little. It's not as if I can't go out or meet people. I can and I do. (Well maybe not quite so much now because I am after all more than 9 months pregnant and carrying quite a hefty load!)I'm starting to learn alot of things about myself, like how I communicate with my friends and how truly important creativity plays its part in keeping me sane. I never knew it before, because working took me away from all that.
The house won't be quiet for very long though, I definately don't need anybody to tell me that! So, as an example of how I have made the most of this temporary quiet time at home all by myself, I've successfully diverted my nesting instincts to the creative side of me. I have finished my second doll! She was looking like she had a fake tan. Very orange in otherwords. So I rectified it, and finished off painting her arms and the back too.


Heres how I made her:
1.I used the ruby doll pattern from oneredrobin and changed the legs. But i used it strictly for the purpose of learning how to make a basic doll shape.
2. Once I had made the doll, I applied white gesso, and sanded it down.
3. I pencil sketched the face and floral design on to the doll. Sanding it down really made it easier to draw on the cloth. I didn't know that before.
4. I then got stuck in with my acrylic paints.
5. That's it. I wanted to blanket stitch a little pocket at the back to slip in a card or something cute but I don't know how to do it. I could have embellished it with sequins and such. The possibilities are endless really. I have a hard time putting a rein on 'prettifying' things!

I should really give her a varnish but I need to find out what kind. Any ideas on this?
She will be one of my first pieces for my future future etsy shop. :)


I'm off to watch this
Have a lovely Thursday!

A new friend

waiting in the wings. She's coming along nicely, and look how lovely she looks in the morning sunlight.



And this is a little pencil drawing I made on a whim, last night. She has promptly been put on my inspiration board. There's no hiding in my studio! No more drawers of the long and forgotten!

I might be a mama today! I have an appointment with my OB later on so please forgive me if I don't blog for a few days.I may be in a very compromised position, holding a baby no less!!!
Wish me luck and a 'small hour' as they say here in Portugal.
They're a funny bunch, the Portuguese. Wonder what in the world they're talking about when they say that, eh??

Have a lovely Teusday!

It's really hard being pregnant

Fluff, three day old quiche and a mission.

Here's my mission. It's to stick to my lists. The important ones. Since I do so many of them to start off with.I tend to do them in the wee hours of the night, not able to sleep because of disturbing visions of Oprah in a lime green velour tracksuit telling me to get my life sorted out pronto in front of an audience who all look like my mother. I have notebooks in different parts of my home (in other words, I dont know where they are), each assigned with their own mission which is to sort out every possible idea in my brain before it mutates into pointless questions like 'Why do we have drawers filled with pens that don't work?' or a suggestion like "Why don't I inspect some fluff under my bed? It might be fun!"
Kills it there and then.
I might decide that the small pink book given to me by a family friend for Christmas, will be solely for notes related to my art vibes. But then, in the middle of it, I see a list of what I need to pack for the hospital.
The need to make lists seep into my psyche like Oprah does. Like a sudden urge to itch when nobodys looking or a momentary lapse in thinking when I decide that eating three day old quiche whilst 9 months pregnant might suddenly be a very pleasant thing to do.
But my latest list has actually worked. It has risen above the mindnumbing mental chit chat, stood tall in a potential minefield of thoughts that puts precedence on ironing underwear above making pretty stuff.
And now, I can say with conviction; Ive been making the pretty stuff and mentally hauling out the need to inspect fluff.

Heres a picture of my next doll. Can't wait to show you peeps the final result.



I'm tres tres excited about it!

Off to have breakfast now. Strictly no eggs for me. Wonder why eh??
Enjoy your Sunday!

09/09/09 at 9am

Baby might not have popped out yet

but I have given birth to the planner in me. Yes, that's right. Khairun is going start planning her creative routine and no amount of dirty dishes and an empty fridge is going to distract her from this mission. Perhaps it was the Carte d'or chocolate chip icecream with fresh raspberries that I ate last night. Upon revealing this to him, Mr T has confiscated all my icecream for fear that I may give birth to a giant Mars Bar on speed and not our wonderfully gorgeous superboy. And he explained this very passionatly to me whilst licking out the last remaining remnants of heaven from the tub. Torture.
Anyway, heres a list of what I am going to be up to. At least until the baby arrives by which point I'm pretty sure my planning euphoria will boil down to sleep deprived survival techniques.

So here it is. The big plan

1. I'm going to do this. I'm all alone at home with my sewing machine. No excuses this time. I will follow the main pattern but give it a Khairun twist.
Update: I made the doll! I. MADE. THIS. DOLL. I'm so chuffed with myself that I could do a little pregnancy dance. I could but I probably won't.


2. Try to make Flickr like me. Put up all my artwork there, the good the bad and the pants. So far, I have a measly two.
3. Take a self-styled Etsy shop business course. I've even got my own notebook for it. Here it is.



4. Keep updating my blog. Which is what I am doing now so there's one thing on the list I'm doing.

5. Make more quiche for friends because it makes them happy. Did my first one today with the help of a friend's recipe.

6. Save my garden from looking like Death Valley. And currently it is.

7. Take baths. Have massages. Finish reading this. And relax God damn it!


Back to the doll making. BYE!

My voodoo and a story about big knickers

I definately was not intending for my blue lady to look so evil-looking, but hey ho, just gotta go whichever way the wind blows. I've tried to keep in mind the idea of reworking on something until it's just right. So despite the end result of this latest project of mine, I can take it as a learning lesson rather than as absolute failure. Consigned to a drawer labelled 'Things I Will Never Bother Doing Again Because It Turned Out To Be Pants'. Yes, admit it reader(s). You know you have a drawer with the same purpose. So I have decided to cleanse myself of all the creative half hearted efforts this drawer has contained over the last few years and pinned alot of them up on a board right in front of my workspace. Im remindef of a feeling similar to that of hanging out a pair of big old knickers for all to see, flapping away in all its pale pink glory. Now, the obvious matter in this case would be to realise that I really need to buy nice knickers, but at the same time they are still my knickers and I need to own the fact that I do like wearing them. Lots of comfort. 100% cotton. Roomy. Good to do Yoga in. Anyway, What Im trying to say by using my big knickers as a metaphor, is that seeing my creative efforts for what it is, in front of me, really shows me the common thread in my work which is a great insight and a reassurance that I'm not so all over the place creatively as I often think I am. I can see what I can do well and what I need to work on. But I can also see where I should be taking my work. It's all about being true to yourself. And the best way to do this is to open that drawer and bring it all out into the open. Three years of work that I should celebrate, no matter how oddball or dissatisfied I might be with them. It is still me. And I love my oddball tendencies.
Big knickers are cool.

This is a girl

who used to be camera-shy. Not anymore though. You get to a certain age where you just don't give a hoot how ridiculously superficial you become. (Sandra-I hope you don't mind me posting this without your permission, but its such a lovely picture of you that I couldn't resist the temptation)


who, every year, missed the annual village fête near our weekend hideout in Atalaia, a tiny parish situatued along Lisbons coastline.


who used to think that you need to be the best in what you do. But simply being good enough, is a much more realistic goal.

Hope you are having a lovely weekend folks!

I got myself out of the slump

and worked on a small piece, making use of my watercolours and inks. I like the way this has turned out.

 

I took a long hard look

at my blog and I decided that it really needed a tidy up. I've heard that during late pregnancy, women have an uncontrollable need to clean, arrange, colour coordinate and label-anything to feel a sense of order and serenity. Well, in my case that same hormonal desire,whilst certainly running havoc in my ovaries, hasn't exactly pushed me towards a mega cleaning marathon. But it has given me enough highs to plough through my favourites and jazz up my blog. And boy, did it take a long time or what. Updating links, adding new categories, reading up on other blogs for inspiration. All done during my peak nesting times. Though blogging might not help stock up on nappies, or get me thinking on the necessity for a room themometre or a baby wipe warmer,it does keep me grounded in all the sky high emotions of having a baby. And it makes me happy too, in the mere knowing of what it is that makes me happy, what keeps me ticking, if that makes sense. I have said to myself time and time again, that I would like to open an online shop. A part of me kept stalling on it because of lack of time to produce more work, lack of inspiration, lack of confidence, and lack of knowledge in making my work into a business of some sort. This is my mind talking here. And a talking mind is a huge obstacle to overcome. Having a baby might just be the key in making me a stronger person to just do it. Or not. Either way, I've still just got to do it. And I will take advantage of the time I have to be at home now to do it. Wish me luck!




In the meantime, here is a picture of food. What a surprise eh? Last nights attempt at eating small portions failed miserably when friends of ours decided not to bring just one giant quiche, but two. Plus a salad with my very own special dressing, and all of it eaten up on our balcony. My way of enjoying the last handful of summer evenings.
After all that food I felt I needed to be airlifted by helicopter afterwards. I have to control my eating!