I had joined a facebook group for beginners in pencil drawings and chanced upon a photograph yesterday that I found intriguing. It was shared by a member of the group who had attempted to replicate it in a drawing and was successful to an extent. I realized that it was a difficult image as it lacked symmetry, and many features had a downward trend increasing the complexity of the drawing to be made.
I decided to draw it myself today to see whether I could replicate, to a point, the photograph. I started off with a coloured paper and regretted it as there were highlights that would have normally been done with a white pencil but this was not possible with the coloured paper. I still thought it would make sense to use the white pencil for the highlights and the effect is a strange mixture of realism and cartoon-like impressions where the white pencil markings were made. I hope you like it all the same. I will also post this on the facebook group.
And as always, mixing the visual, sometimes the spoken but always an audio of the moment, I give you a song which I was listening to while drawing.
Pencil drawing by me
The below is the photograph used as reference for the drawing
Prayers of the days, struggle of illusions 19 February 2025
Courtesy freepik.com
Translation of a poem in Arabic that I wrote on 15 May 2011 and that I had never translated before. I am providing below the English translation the original poem with a small correction. There are probably other small grammatical errors that I would not have noticed.The previous poem was published here دعاء الأيام، كفاح ألأوهام | Geetha Balvannanathan's Blog - Isis Tratum
If only I were a scream to flirt with your lips as I rise from them springing free, forgetting silence
◊
If only I were a rock to roll between your hands as I oppose your ways against happiness resilient, bound, committed to stillness
◊
If only I were a chick to hide between your wings as I look out from them satisfied and calm, yours until I die
◊
If only I were pride to support the pulse between your ribs as I help you store the air a loyal owner, extracting sorrows
◊
Today, from your rib I am renewed, a sorceress, Eve and from my rib, none can remove you neither past grudges nor annihilation
◊
I am the scream of the steadfast rock so forget, Sisyphus, that I should roll I am the pride of the chick for its mother my days' tears flowed like rivers
◊
I am every mother who called in the dark the stones were shattered by my screams I am what escaped the death of dreams the wells filled with the blood of my veins
◊
Look to the oncoming spring for it bears the seed of my flowers Put on the garment of the regretful autumn for it is too late to oppress me
دعاء الأيام، كفاح الأوهام 2011-05-15
ليتني صرخة كي أغازل شفتيك و أنا أرتفع منهما منطلقة حرَة ناسية السُكوت
◊
ليتني صخرة كي أتكركب بين يديك و أنا أعارض طرقك ضدَ الهناء صامدة مقيَدة ملتزمة بالسُكون
◊
ليتني فرخ كي أتخبَأ بين جناحيك و أنا أطلُ منها راضية هادئة، لك إلى أن أموت
◊
ليتني فخر أساند النَبض بين ضلعيك وأنا أساعدك على تخزين الهواء مالكة وافية منتزعة للشجون
◊
أنا اليوم من ضلعك تجدَدت ساحرة حوَاء و من ضلعي ما أمكن نزعك لا الحقد الماضي و لا الفناء
◊
أنا صرخة الصخرة الصَامدة فإنس يا سيزيف أن أستدار أنا فخر الفرخ للأم الوالدة سال دمع أيامي سيل الأنهار
◊
أنا كل أم نادت في الظلام تحطمت بصرختي الأحجار أنا ما نجى من موت الأحلام إمتلأت بدم عروقي الآبار
◊
أنظر إلى الربيع القادم فهو يحمل زرع زهري إرتد ثوب الخريف النادم فقد فات الأوان عن قهري
Reading of the translation in English of the original Arabic poem:
Reading of the original Arabic poem (most likely with some grammar mistakes)
There is little to do where I live because I do not know my surroundings yet so I have resorted to my old passion of sketching mainly female portraits or nudes. In this instance it is just a pencil sketch of a female head using B, 6B and 8B pencils as well as a white sketching pencil. I have not taken out all the art supplies I bought so this simple sketch is what I can produce over the coming months.
I have been eyeing some watercolour paint and might end up buying some even though I am in a temporary lodging and should not increase too much what I have to move again. It is just that trying watercolours seems so enticing given that it has always been quite challenging for me. Indeed, I tend to want to improve whatever I find challenging and have time and time again chosen to dwell upon something that I did not have a natural knack for and turned things around to become at least proficient in that, be it art, literature or something involving ordinary skills. I hope to be able to produce a nice watercolour once I give into the enticement of buying those watercolours. In the meantime, I hope you like the pencil sketch I am including here.
She looked around her taking in the leaves in the small pots and the small budding white flowers growing slowly in between. This was not exactly what she had expected when she had emerged from her sleep like state. She knew this would be temporary, however, so she was not too worried about it. The flat was neat and sparsely decorated. It was a far cry from the wilderness she was used to or the luxurious surroundings she had dwelt in on occasion, but this would do for now. She wondered how her twin was living and whether he had awoken too from the sleep like state that he must have been in too. This was not the first time that she would be awake before him though, so she did not dwell too much on this thought nor did she attempt connecting with him. She would have time to do that later.
The last time she had awoken before him it had not been a good age. The world had been in patriarchy mode and her ways of the old did not seem suited to the times. She remembered with some displeasure the difficulties of that era and the near helplessness she had experienced where her physical body had not only been a point of weakness, but an actual hindrance given the limited freedom that women had then. She had travelled long and far to reach the area where recounts of her twin had emerged. She knew quite well by then the tell-tale signs: The fantastic tales, the miracles, the huge gathering of followers and the automatic unrest that accompanied this within the rulers of that time. Every time her twin had manifested on Earth, whether it was in Mesopotamia or Ancient Egypt or the land of the two seas, he could not help but provoke the established order and create problems for both of them.
In comparison her methods had always been more discreet, working within the shadows, mostly with the female population, never basking in the light. There were always two sides to a story like there were two ways of approaching matters and hers had always been the way of the silent stream that slowly erodes the foundations of mighty dwellings rather than the direct towering waters that her twin had always loved to raise against the norms of each era. Well she thought to herself, the last time had not gone so well for him and even their father-mother source had not saved him from the trouble he had got them into. As a female with child, she had been spared and did not go through the fate her twin underwent. In fact, barely anyone noticed her contribution to the upheaval of that era and she did not even figure in any historical recounts or barely as a side figure, an afterthought and mostly in a negative light. It was always her twin who was in the limelight and she realised that he might as well given how he loved it while she preferred the shadows.
The keepers of the secrets of the Source had sent them as messengers, each in their own way allowing humans to discover themselves, to allow them to delve into their light as well as their shadows until they could realise that neither was more worthwhile. The idea was for them to allow humans to understand that each being or inanimate object was just a manifestation of the flux that emanated from the Source, that both light and dark were just different perceptions of the same energy that encompassed all and permeated from within everything. She naturally identified with the female side of humans as her star soul was the moon and had therefore chosen the shadows. Her twin had chosen to represent the light and he had gotten so infatuated with it that he no longer remembered at every human manifestation that he was only partly light. She on the other hand had never been dazzled neither with the light nor with the shadows and remembered that their original mission was to allow this Universe to achieve balance. In every era she had incarnated within, she made it a point to achieve that and in the age of patriarchy, this had mainly become a work linked with liberating women from their bondage whether internal or forced upon them externally. Wherever she went, the liberation of women ensued whether slowly and steadily or in outbursts.
It pained her to think that this play of light and dark had made human beings reach incredible levels of hate and bigotry and that the rules that the source had enacted within the minds of the initial messengers had all been diverted into rigid and ridiculous sets of dogma that allowed humans to fight and kill each other in all impunity. She was not very fond of bloodshed, not even when she knew that it was sometimes necessary to rejuvenate the planet they were on and allow for the recycling of those souls which had gotten too dense to allow the others to progress. She was of a playful nature in general and had found it very funny to diffuse in the minds of humans a representation of the world of shadows. Owing to the way patriarchy had been dominant in the world, however, this representation took on a male nature rather than a female one and with the fertile imagination of humans, it became a monstrous figure with horns and hooves, something between an animal and a human being.
She looked at herself in the mirror and laughed at the thought of it. According to humans, the one who lurked in the world of shadows was a wicked being called the devil and he had a pointy tail, cloven hooves, wild looking horns and terribly pointy teeth. Above all he was supposed to tower over human beings and roast them with the fires of a place humans had fearfully invented and named hell. At the opposite side of that, there was supposedly a place where all souls that had been redeemed would be taken if they submitted to and worshipped their saviour, her light-loving twin. The humans had lovingly named that place heaven and each of them had their own personal idea of how beautiful this place would be although for most, it was likened to a garden with everlasting bounties. She laughed at the thought of this childish inclination but then sighed at the thought of the task that awaited. Perhaps she should have incarnated into something more akin to what they were expecting so she could be more convincing in her task. After all, better the Devil you know…
You must be logged in to post a comment.