Faig Ahmed Creates Psychedelic Rugs From Traditional Azerbaijani Textiles
Faig Ahmed’s latest project focuses on making contemporary carpets from classical Azerbaijani textiles. Ahmed graduated from the Azerbaijan State Academy of Fine Art in Baku in 2004. His background as an artist covers painting, video and installation as well as other mediums; however, his attention is currently focused on working with textile and sculpture.
Traditional Azerbaijani carpets rely heavily on geometric and symmetrical patterns, stemming from historical influence. The carpets are usually limited to be rectangular or square in shape. By dismantling the laws that govern the structure and pattern of these fabrics, Ahmed converges his love of ancient culture to create a psychedelic visualization. By refurbishing the traditional compositions into a contemporary sculpture, he disassembles their stable nature and injects motion into a pre-existing lifeless object.
The patterns break away from their rigid symmetry and melt away from the tapestry into a colorful puddle. Ahmed also adds a digital effect to the rugs by pixelating fragments and blank spaces on the drapery. Overall, the artist intentionally creates an interesting union between contemporary art and ancient Azerbaijani roots.
The Waldron Way. Book #9 The Order of the Hive, Book #5 Adonijah Speaks, Book #7 System of the Six Walled Chamber, Book #15 Eschatology & Geopolitics, Book #19 Reading the Hive Questioning the Queen. 1976.
“The Unalome represents the crown of the Arahants (Enlightened Saints), the spiral stands for the crown at the center of the scalp, and the straight line pointing upwards, representing the straight path to Enlightenment without any wavering behavior that the Arahants have accomplished. The Unalome is a spire in a Yant – a Sacred geometry design incorporating Buddhist psalms and magical formulas that invoke various elements and powers of protection and various blessings.” - Alvaro(Yahoo Answers)
“women don’t know how much rejection hurts” i wasn’t allowed to play with legos or touch a football or look at sports. i wasn’t allowed to eat more. i wasn’t allowed to talk loudly, to laugh too much, to inject myself into male conversations. i wasn’t allowed to be good at science. i was told “oh sweetheart, have another college in mind, STEM fields are hard.” i got turned down from jobs in favor of boys where were less qualified. one boss told me he was hesitant to hire me because my last name is hispanic and i’m pretty and he didn’t want the “controversy.” i couldn’t take up space on the train. i would be talked over in public places. i couldn’t eat steak or drink beer, they were “boy” things. video games were off limits, i wasn’t allowed to ask if i could see more characters like myself in them. super heroes were all men, women were just love interests. i wanted shirts with wonderwoman, with black widow, with harley quinn, i found next to nothing. i wanted pockets and colors other than pink and clothes designed for warmth, not sexy, i got nothing. women change their name to be published nationally. i wasn’t allowed to be emotional, i wasn’t good at driving, i wasn’t in charge of my own body. i wasn’t allowed to show off my body, i wasn’t allowed to dress modestly. i had to be pretty, whatever it took, but my eating was constantly made fun of. “she’s, like, anorexic” was a punchline, not a disorder. “she’s fat” was a death sentence.
boys said no because: i wasn’t pretty i wasn’t small i was too loud i spent too much energy on being funny on because i wouldn’t shut up what a feminazi i wasn’t smart i was too smart for my own good i was always reading i was always busy i was too needy i was too independent i was not who you took home i was too much of a house mom i was perfect and it was scary.
women don’t know. women don’t know. never sat in a room and wrote angsty poetry about this shit. somehow both overemotional and not capable of knowing how much rejection stings. which one is it. which one is it. i’ll give you a hint: we’ve been rejected since the first time our parents said, “no, not the blue blanket, it’s for little boys to play with.” we are used to having “no” slammed in our faces. we got used to it. maybe the reason it seems so unnatural to hear “no” is because for your entire life, you heard “yes.”
Frantz
Fanon, one of the founders of post colonialism theory (along with Edward
Said), wrote of the frustration that the French colonisers in Algeria
had regarding Muslim women who wore the face veil (niqaab). His words,
penned over fifty years ago, still carry much weight as we attempt to
decipher why the West is so concerned about a small piece of cloth.
He said that,
“…this woman, who sees without being seen, frustrates the colonizer.”
By abjuring Western standards of liberation, she asserts an identity, and even power, of her own, thus
refusing to acknowledge the validity of, and inherent power in, her
colonizer’s unveiling, subjugation and rape of her own culture.
Ironically,
in claiming to liberate women from the constraints of the veil, the
colonizer is forced to do so with violence and force, thus becoming the culprit of the very crime that he purports to fight.
— Summarized and extracted from Frantz Fanon’s, “Algeria Unveiled”
baby girl came back from church on sunday
pink sundress hidden hosiery
lost her marbles at the bar on friday
picked them up and bought a rosary
baby girl got her baby feet dirty
swam in the lake with a man who’s thirty
chevrolet tunes on the a-track hunny
an older man to call her bunny
North Korean Interiors Looking Suspiciously like a Wes Anderson Film Set
“I stumbled upon a Tumblr today dedicated entirely to pictures of North Korean interiors. Photographer and writer Oliver Wainwright set up the site after he made his first trip to the hermit kingdom and found himself drawn to the Soviet-era fittings, the carefully framed symmetry so often employed in Anderson’s films and that unmistakable “Kindergarten Kitsch”, a term which I find sounds so delightful and sinister at the same time.”
