Month: August 2011

Training the Forgotten

Recently I’ve decided to look upon my drawing past again, with the sad fact I probably can’t and ever won’t recover the tens or maybe even hundreds of sketches from high school, college and before. I didn’t take much things with me to England, let alone to Kuwait, but a bunch of soft graphite pencils traveled with me and are haunting the drawer in my table now, so why not to make a use of them.
The problem with drawing skills is that it is indeed not comparable to riding a bicycle and you’re completely capable to forget it all, without any ongoing practice. So did I.
And since I’m stubborn and dedicated as far as I want something, I’ve started from scratch, practicing and drawing and sketching and being completely mad at myself, not noting the great deal of disappointment that I can’t even remotely draw as I used to – and weeks and months of drawing are ahead of me, IF I want to get at least on par with past, or maybe even better.
I’ve got some exercise books which don’t take any beginner lightly and smack you right at start with dozens of drill and copying so you can get it back in hand again. They’re merciless to your mistakes, but in the end, if one wants to draw, he shouldn’t expect much soft approach on the side of other artists, right..?


Here’s my first sketch – purely exercise to get the movement back into hand and of awful quality, but hey, I’m trying! For anyone interested, I’m using two books – The Natural Way to Draw: A Working Plan for Art Study & Charles Bargue with the collaboration of Jean-Léon Gérôme: Drawing Course.

How’s Your Ramadan Going?

With the month of fasting being in the middle, most of you who fast surely know their thing already and can get along pretty well – even I got used to the Kuwaiti tempo rather quickly again and managed to even add 30 – 60 minutes of cardio exercise into the daily routine without collapsing out of exhaustion, thirst or hunger – lets hope I can keep it even after Ramadan passes and my body won’t go all nuts from the change of regime once again.
I’ve found out, that I’ve got “Kuwaitized” a little – can’t talk for the behaviour (that’s a question you’ve got to aim at my husband, he’d know better) – but I remember clearly that when we moved to Kuwait last year, I’ve been offered at one of the dinners a special local sweets: Rahash (رهش كويتي). It’s basically a sesame seeds paste with sugar and God knows what else, it’s incredibly sweet and of course it tastes completely awful to an European tongue (unused to an Arab cuisine). I’ve tried it that evening and I’ve hated the guts of it. It doesn’t look particularly tasty neither to be completely honest; something between sand mud and a wet brick. But…


A year after and I can’t get enough. I’ve smuggled a small box of rahash into my room and every evening I eat it with bread (yes, that’s the best) as my suhoor, together with Pu-erh tea, because my Ramadan cholesterol level is probably around the high risk level – as for many other Muslims.
And here I thought I won’t cope. Hah. As if. Next year I’m gonna catch myself wearing a centimeter thick layer of make-up, I bet you.

Mobile Pics of Czech

I’ve finally managed to download some pictures off my BlackBerry, some from the past quarter a year, that is – mainly from Czech Rep. They’re of a completely horrid quality, but I’ve decided to slap them here anyways, since they’ve got certain “documentary” value, for me at least. Don’t blame the photographer, blame the BlackBerry!



Prague paper fetching

Back Home, At Last

Finally home! Settled again, we swiftly joined the Ramadan time, and are enjoying our moments of calm now. It’s summer, so no school for Dori, and fasting, so not much activities going on except the iftaars at my mother-in-law, which is always loud and vivid experience with so many family members gathered at once, starved and longing some Vimto and a piece of food. My MIL cooks great and enjoys a lot of rice and مرق, sambusak, spicy soups, herbs and bread. Quite traditional Arab cuisine, but really tasty – especially in Ramadan!
It’s our third day back home and sand already got up to greet us as well, so today no open-window-heater-style I do time to time to warm up the ACed room of mine.


The routine view from my window

Half of Ramadan is still in front of us and قرقيعان was celebrated yesterday and the day before, with kids dressed up in traditional Kuwaiti attires singing a song for treats, door to door – a bit comparable to Halloween or Easter in Czech, but more traditional and definitely not a derivative of any of mentioned above, but a very old tradition. Although I have to say that the maid armies kind of spoiled the traditional feeling, as well as some parties were simply going in jeans and T-shirts, so shame on you families! – قرقيعان is a nice tradition and Kuwait should take care of that heritage in a proper way, it would be such a shame to forget it.

Tripping

Yay! Finally we’ve managed to get the tickets for our trip back booked and inshallah by tomorrow at this hour I’ll be boarding a Emirati plane to Kuwait at Dubai airport.
emarati airlines
The same flight as always, long and exhausting trip counting over 12 hours and even more, but after soooo long I will be able to hug my husband again. I really dislike the idea of having to sit on the mid row with two other poeple, especially on the longer flight, but at least we’re moving now. Let’s hope it won’t be anyone un-behaved, stinky or drunk, as it happens so often.
Wish us the best, please, and a safe trip.
See y’all in Kuwait!

Stuck Waiting

Days flow like a sand through my fingers, all same, a copy & paste of each other now – Ramadan always changes the whole tempo of life, but being in Czech and alone changed it a lot. Well; it’s my first fasting in Czech Republic and besides the fact that I’ll probably eat a cow at once when I come back home (no halal meat nearby at this forgotten place), the summer days here are pretty long, understand, the light period of a day is damn long and thirsty; and yes, indeed I’m not physically alone, since I’m with my parents and sometimes with my bro and his GF here as well (who smirk very childishly at any mention of Muslim, Islam, or fasting – gosh, who of the sane mind would ever starve and thirst himself just to prove something as mere as self-discipline, and for so silly reasons such as the love of God! – but hey, I’m getting used to it again, the omnipresent misunderstanding and misconception of what I do believe in, not quite mentioning the fact that who believes in any kind of God or Greater Power in this country is deemed as completely nuts and weak. Dooh.).
So I’ve set my mind and body on sleeping late, getting up late, not biting my daughter in her butt when she’s innocently stuffing a doughnut under my nose throughout the course of the day, not swearing (hard sometimes!, I’m quite a bad mouth), and trying to invent telepathy or even better teleportation. One is obvious, second to put an annoying thought in the head of any officer handing our papers at the very moment, and that being that they’ve got to be done as soon as possible, yesterday was too late. Doesn’t work, so far, needless to say.


I’m waiting, waiting and waiting, for someone to finish it off already and let us back, because I miss my spouse so much it’s unbelievable, so much that my heart physically hurts when I think of how far apart we are and how long I didn’t put my ear on his chest and listen to his heartbeat.
Kiddo misses her daddy as well but due to the fact that she’s surrounded by rather new (to her) forests, meadows, rivers and inland summer and her loving grandparents, she’s not usually as sad and blue as I am. Which is good, ‘coz two depressed chicks would be rather a lot to take on.
So I fast alone and long after the closeness of my beloved one – yes, even now after years of marriage I’m still crazy in love and I can say I love him more and deeper than ever before – and hope that our jinnie took her holidays and I can see my obsidian-eyed, ebony-haired and kind-hearted husband before Eid Al-Fitr comes…