Last night after dinner, my two younger brothers, my mom, and I were having a conversation about ‘smartness’. I said we are all smart in our own way. I asked her to describe the ‘prodigousness’ of each one of us. For example, my brother, Muhsin, could tell time by the age 2 and a half, and could read by the age of three. Maryam could talk before she could walk, and asked a lot of questions. Mine had something to do with drawing in perspective.

Drawing has always been a thing I did. I used to draw a lot of attempted realistic portraits in high school. Drawings of people and animals. And then I stopped. Not entirely, occasionally I attempted a realistic portrait or two. What I did do instead though, was draw in less realistic styles. In cartoons and doodles. Sketches. The reason was not because I wasn’t able to draw realistically, I knew I was capable of drawing in the vein of realism. It was precisely because I thought that I was capable that I stopped, because when people complimented on my work and when I looked at my work, I could feel a sense of pride coming in. And that flavour of pride made me uncomfortable. Astaghfirullah. Even back then, when drawing ‘realistic’ living things, I did not aim for perfection. I left some things unfinished. Compliments came, pride came, and I would immediately try to shake it off. “Awh thanks, but really, it isn’t that great.” Which is true, the drawings are just average, but you know how our minds have these delusions of grandeur.

Why these feelings though? It had something to do with this Hadith:

Daripada Ibnu ‘Abbas, “Aku mendengar Muhammad berkata, “Barang siapa membuat gambar di dunia ini, dia akan dipersoalkan serta diminta supaya memberikan nyawa kepada apa yang dilukiskannya pada Hari kiamat nanti, tetapi dia tidak akan mampu melakukannya” .” (Hadis Riwayat al-Bukhari Kitab Pakaian (7/72), no. 846)

 

Narrated By Ibn ‘Abbas : I heard Muhammad saying, “Whoever makes a picture in this world will be asked to put life into it on the Day of Resurrection, but he will not be able to do so.” (Sahih Bukhari Volume 007, Book 072, Hadith Number 846)

So I had guilt whenever I attempted realism. Well, not when I was actually drawing it though, because when I draw I’m in a different frame of mind and just draw because I enjoy it so much. The feeling always came after. When I looked at it and thought that it looked good. When people complimented on it.

So then I took a turn to sketches, to cartoon styles, to doodles. It still made me happy. I didn’t feel as bad when people complimented on it, because the compliments weren’t about how real they looked, but just about the design or the creativity. I also didn’t mind if people thought they were childish. I wasn’t trying to portray a realistic image, instead I was just portraying my thoughts, ideas, and feelings. Diagrams of poetry, if you may.

I felt that if my intentions were never to make it appear life-like, then it should be ok.

It’s been several years and my style has evolved over time, though not that much. My preference for drawing hijab-clad girls found a small audience, including non-Muslims/not-yet-Muslims. It made me happy that even those who don’t directly relate with the hijab that my girls were wearing, they still liked my work. I didn’t draw da’awah doodles, I was just being me, but if being me and showing my identity could be a form of that somehow, or just make people aware of people like me, then, cool.

Lately though, I’ve taken a turn to realism again. Slightly somehow. It wasn’t even a conscious decision. As an artist, I go by what I feel like. Experimenting with styles. I really felt like drawing this, so I just did. It’s not really realism, just more realistic than doodles are.

I really enjoy drawing, I know I’ve said that before. Here, I personalized an image of a certain Lana del Rey, just because I felt like it, and named her Lana del Noor. It is totally random. I love mixing colours. A couple of days later, I drew this:

Which isn’t realistic at all, but it was fun to draw. I drew this after work because I was craving for some yummy colour mixing. I didn’t use brown at all  except for the eyebrows, so the colours really stood out more this time.

A few days later, in the office, I was thinking about all this, about how I feel about realism, about my art, and I had to ask Izyan. Really, is it ok to draw? I know I could do realistic portraits if I wanted to, but should I? 

She reassured me, it’s all about the intentions. Drawing is fine, it can be a form of da’wah. As long as perfection in the image isn’t aimed, i.e ‘sempurna’ and ‘cukup sifat’, it’s ok. Jangan cukup sifat lah. It isn’t allowed when it’s as if we want to challenge God and give a soul and life to the image; as in the previously quoted Hadith; as if we can make something so perfect and lifelike as God does. Wallahualam.

I am in the process of re-defining my style, because I want to combine all the things I like to draw into one style. Semi-realism, doodles, abstract, inking, colours, hijab, imagination. I’ve always wanted to do this, but I just wasn’t quite sure how to combine my different styles that I’ve experimented with into one. Last night, I drew this:

It’s my attempt at a cohesive style. I know I don’t want to attempt hyper-realism, though maybe if I tried and practiced I could. But I don’t want to take the risk. I happen to like experimental styles, so I shall continue to explore that. Hyper-realism may be about the skill, but I don’t intend to have my art be solely about skill with little to do about imagination, experimentation, and self-expression.

With all that said though, I am not the best artist, nor am I even trying to be. I just want to make art that makes me happy, which hopefully, will also make other people happy.

InshaAllah it will all work out.

replay.

I want to write but I keep running into clichés

I want to speak but I keep running into walls

I would never think I would run out of words to say

Maybe I was never meant for this after all

Such a sad realization

Maybe I was a wolf in sheep’s clothing

Roving the clouds in the skies

Smoking paper and chewing letters to appear brave

Giving into dreams anyway

A moth in an owl’s suit

Feathers and a hoot

Spewing words to appear wise

Eyes like moons in the night sky

Mouth, could you please be kinder

Heart, could you please be wiser

Head, could you please be clearer

What does it take

For me to make

A bridge from this mind to the world?

A beautiful bridge is useless

Without something to cross over

I would stop treating you like a silent lover

A shadow in the night, a corner in my mind

Writing secret love letters

Mind, please stay

When others will say I’m insane

You keep me sane.

The software used is Autodesk Maya, which I’ve never used before. I am only familiar with 3D softwares such as SketchUp and Artlantis for rendering, I messed around in 3Ds Max after high school, but that was only messing around and making silly animations with it. Like any other person would mess around with a software they are unfamiliar with. Oh, now that I remember, I did attempt 3D character animation before! Only I don’t think I got much right. The only thing I remember from then was that I made a head explode and I attempted to make a ‘robot’ walk (the rectangular body parts weren’t attached to each other, so that’s that… fail) and a TV attack the person watching it. Fun times, trying to figure it out. That was the only time I messed with 3Ds Max, because I was ‘working’ but I didn’t have much work to do and I shared a cramped office with the graphics/animator/rendering guy who told me to mess around with these softwares. My uncle who was my, uh, boss, told me to learn AutoCAD by bringing me a thick book. I think I made a face to myself and only attempted a square and moved on because it looked difficult and boring. Haha!

Ok, back to my 3D animation. I’m starting to bore you. So as you may or may not know, my characters are Makcik Karipap and an actual Karipap. Here’s a look at the initial character design sketches:

Initial sketches

front and side view of Makcik Karipap

front and side view of the karipap, haha!

The concept came about because that day, our instructor told us he wanted to see our ideas for the story and character by 5pm that day. I didn’t know what to do, and the first thought that came to my mind was this. Maybe because I was hungry, and I had currypuffs for breakfast that morning. Also maybe because I used to doodle currypuffs like the one above while bored in lectures (oops). Currypuffs, they’re cute, come on!

So some time later (modeling didn’t take so long, but rigging, oh my goodness, it took so much longer! You know, being noobs et al), I had this! (Rigging, for those unfamiliar, is setting up the joints, controls, weights and stuff so that we can animate the character)

Pau Kapow, which I didn't end up using

My desktop wallpaper at the CG Skill lab (as you can see, her personality is a bit 'perasan bagus')

I have the textured version of the Makcik, complete with a kain batik, but didn’t animate this one because I did the texture mapping after I did the rigging, and this required me to delete the rigging, and I had no time to rig again. Our tutor taught us texture mapping after we’d done the rigging, so, heh.

When we did lip-synching, I had the oppurtunity to test out my blendshapes and rigs on the karipap. It was fun. Hearing these voices come out of my cute silly little karipap was hilarious, I couldn’t help laughing to myself while animating. Here is the lipsynch assignment:

Stephen Chow and Dr Fadzilah Khamsah’s voice out of a talking karipap. I know, right? Ridiculous.

the CG Skill family! (during live acting class)

And last but not least, the last month of our training was to complete a group project animation. This is what we were all waiting for (yeke?). We faced quite a number of difficulties, as these things usually are. Technical difficulties and difficulties you might find when working in a group. We managed to pull through, and I am quite proud of our final project. It features my characters as well as Musz my group member’s alien character. I would like to thank Dexter and Musz for being awesome group members & friends, and sir Yavi for being an awesome tutor. We definitely learnt more than animation in those 4 months. Alhamdulillah, mission accomplished. (chewah)

Here it is, MISSION KARIPOP! An Alien longs for delicious currypuffs made by none other than Makcik Karipap, but things don’t go quite as planned….enjoy!

As for my individual project, I want to re-render it, so stay tuned… It features even more of Makcik Karipap and KariPuff, with the actual storyboard I initially wrote for them! (it’s much shorter though…)

So, is anyone interested in joining the next batch (March)? If you are, contact me! It’s free!

(Poster by Musz, Characters by Musz & Moon)

Hey, so this is what I’ve been up to. For the past 4 months I’ve been taking a 3D animation course. I’ve always been interested in animation, more so in the past few years, and when my friend told me there’s this job camp thing that’s sponsored by MDeC, to learn animation, I jumped at the chance. I do prefer 2D animation, but 3D animation is cool too. As a person of many interests, a jack of all trades (and a master of none, perhaps), I don’t see why I should limit myself to learning one thing. When people ask why, I ask instead, “Why not?”

We’re all children here, no matter how old we are, because learning never stops. I’m practically a baby, hardly even. I’m just a speck in a sea of floating faces. But hey, that doesn’t mean I should stop learning. It’s precisely why I should absorb all the knowledge I can. And so should you

So our group animation is currently in the rendering stage, it’s a short animation we started around this year, short but it’s been fun. My individual project has quite a number of scenes yet to be animated, hah. I better get to it. Anyways, stay tuned!

The cursor blinked.

She blinked.

As if it were a staring game between two estranged lovers, tracing edges across a deafening silence staged over a dinner table.

When I was a teenager, I used to write on new year’s eve, recounting the year’s events. To whom? To no one in particular, mostly myself. Well, I wrote in a journal. So that’s a given. I was never tempted to join in New Year’s celebrations, all the fireworks and soirees, even when my high school friends did go to KLCC to join the countdown and watch the fireworks. I used to climb up the edges of our balcony and watch the fireworks from afar, over my neighbourhood’s rooftops. Then I’d join my journal, alone, writing a summary of the year’s events, and the progress (or non-progress) I’ve made as a person.

I don’t know if I’ve done that for 2010. In 2009, I tried to make a 365 personal project of making a simple artwork each day out of found scrap material. It went well, but only until April. The goal was at least till my birthday in May. But I didn’t make it. I loved the process though, because sometimes I’d have absolutely no idea what to draw/make, and some other times I just went with it. Those little scrap arts were little vignettes into my frame of mind on each particular day in that particular year. Like a time capsule. Unlike facebook status updates or tweets, because they were abstract physical objects. A leaf picked up from the side of the road on the way back from class, a bus ticket from the day’s events, a library fine, scrap material from the studio… It was more about the process than the actual end product itself.

The next year, I wondered if I could do it again. I didn’t. I didn’t even seriously attempt it. The following year was also the same. And this year I’m asking myself the same question. Will I manage to get through all 365 (366) days? If 2009 it was about being an architecture student and turning 20, what will 2012 be about?

To me, 2011 was a lot of things.

Personally.

And to me, 2011 was a lot of things. To the world. The events the world faced this year were huge, and left an impact on me emotionally. However even though I do think about them a lot to myself, I can’t even begin to discuss it all here in this meager blog post. Those deserve a post of its own, a book of its own. About an idea that struck like a match lit to kerosene. Spreading across the globe. I found it tragically beautiful, and inspiring.

In 2009 I wrote a tiny poem, which I called ‘Stars’.

“so many stars at night

but I can only count

one at a time

 

so many wars to fight

but I can only fight

mine.”

- Feb 2 2009

My final long semester for my first degree was early in the year. In fact, I welcomed 2011 at my desk in the studio, in front of the PC. I doodled on a piece of scrap board I found lying around the studio, and used gold foil from a piece of chocolate that was a wedding favour from earlier on in the day.

I nearly flunked a subject that semester, but thankfully, me and a few friends were given a chance to redeem ourselves.

That semester blurred into the next, the final short semester, as the preparation for our trip to Dhaka soon became the trip itself. The last subject ever for us. The last group project ever. The culmination of ideas and anticipation since our first year. Our experience in Dhaka itself was exhilarating, eye-opening, soul-opening, beautiful. I never managed to write about it because I never manage to write about these things. It seems unfair to the experience. Truth is, I often find it hard to find the words to describe these experiences and emotions. Which is why I often resort to short nibblets.

Heritage Studies is always the fondest memory an architecture student in my university will have in his or her first degree. The last time to work with all of your batch mates, the time spent with them, it is all so precious. You really get to know them, it is such a fitting bittersweet end.

Graduation was surreal, I hardly remember it because it was such a blur. We spend hours being bored in our seats, a few minutes being nervous before we go on stage, and on the stage itself, taking the scroll, it happens for all but a few seconds.

Following the graduation-induced high that lasted a couple of weeks, was the confusion. The anxiety. I felt like a teenager again. I hated that, and it confused me. Why would I feel like a teenager again? Haven’t I just graduated? I should be an adult, a self-assured confident adult that my teen self had hoped I would be. But I knew, I felt like a teenager again, just as I did when I just finished high-school, because I was back to that position. That position of thinking, “Now what?”

Of course, I wasn’t entirely clueless of what I wanted to do. It was the questions that got to me. Once or twice was fine, but it seemed everyone around me was asking the same questions.

“What next?”

“Sambung kat mana?”

“Tak amik part 2 ke?”

“Kerja apa? Kat mana?”

“When are you getting married?”

It was too much pressure. I guess I was guilty sometimes too, I asked those questions to people as well. I looked forward to joining the 3D animation course, because at least, for 3 months, I could put off making a decision. The questions still came, but at least I could say what I was doing at the moment.  Even before I joined the course, when I was working part time, they would ask why I wasn’t continuing my studies yet. It’s a fact of life though, these type of questions will never stop.

Usually it begins after you complete high school. “Where are you enrolling?” And then throughout your life, there would be, “What are you pursuing?” “Do you have a boyfriend/girlfriend/fiancee?” “When are you getting married?” “Where are you going to settle down?” “When are you having kids?” “When will you have another kid?” “Where are you sending your kids to school?” “When is your son/daughter getting married?” “When will you have grand kids?” “When are you going to die?”

The last part, of course, was just me feeling frustrated and adding it in there. I felt like screaming, “Lay off the questions! Do I need to make a decision NOW? Can’t I just live?”

I was scared, and frustrated at myself. I felt that as an adult, I should have had it all figured out by now. But I know the truth. I am still new to the whole being an adult thing, but adults are just as clueless. They still don’t know what they are doing half of the time, but they try to figure it out. I ranted about this to a fellow friend of my batch, and was glad to know I wasn’t alone in this. I guess we all have our own post-graduation crisis. Or quarter life crisis, as I liked to put it.

I guess to me, 2011 was about growing up, basically. Isn’t that every year? Maybe what I meant there was it’s a milestone year, where I’m parting with things I’m familiar with, and upon closing that student life & young adult door, I am faced with many doors to open. Which door do I open?

But then again, who is to say I can only open one door? Maybe I just want to knock the whole wall over.

2012, here I come.

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

English translation:

drip
by drip
by
drip
the cracks of the road soaked by the rain

drop
by drop
by
drop
red blood colours the body of white

Pop
(open) the eyes that were veiled
fog & haze blown away
the blue skies beg & say

Pick
that roadside chalk
a favourite colour of yours
the number you were created for
carvings of your words
pieces of your ambitions
every dream and aspiration
and thus trace
a dot

dot
by dot
by
dot
till it becomes a line
no illusion or shadow to hide behind
clear, a reality
will you be able to cross its boundaries?

will you step, and erase
the border lines of reality?

You know that feeling you have when ideas are squashing in your brain, rolling about, stewing in the heat of your meta-thinking, images lucidly flashing before your eyes, and voices speaking the words you are endlessly writing in your head? You fear giving it life because once out there, it almost never is up to your expectations. In other words, you believe in the idea, but you don’t believe in yourself.

This little video may seem like just any small project anyone might do. But I knew, this exact small project was the chance to explain to myself what I needed to do. I needed to let go of the fear. The fear that I will never be good enough. Because I will never be. I will never be good enough for my own self. I will never be satisfied. Isn’t that the dilemma of all aspiring artists? Their outcome will never quite match their vision. So what does that mean? Should I let the vision dwell entirely in my head, knowing I will not risk disappointment? Or by doing exactly that, risk disappointment in myself for being such a coward to even try?

Sometimes, it may seem like I confidently hold my head high, when in fact, most of the time I feel tiny and invisible. Like, who am I kidding? My writing isn’t good enough, my drawings are chicken scratch compared to artists I admire, and who will ever like my ideas? But then again, if I try to trace back to the time I started drawing or writing, which I can’t even remember because I was so young, I never cared if anyone liked it. I just did my thing. I would steal my dad’s papers, bind them with staplers, and illustrate and write my own ‘book’. Ideas that I’m not entirely sure where they came from. I once wrote a little ‘storybook’ about a group of friends who are in a society that has magical peacocks as pets. I must have been about 8 years old. My sister and I used to make all sorts of books and comics. A few months later I would read them, and disgusted by the amateurishness, I chucked some of them in the bin.

Even when I was 13, I wrote some poems and songs in my little journal. When my 15 year old self read them again, I was so embarrassed with its childishness, I ripped the pages, soaked them in water, tore it up, microwaved it and flushed it down the toilet. Must have been quite awful. If only I’ve kept them till today, I could have at least laughed.

I’m sure I’m not the only one having these insecurities. I looked around me, and people, despite their flaws or insecurities, gave their craft a shot. Gave their ideas a chance.

Coming back to this little video, I had an idea, far bigger than the actual product. But I gave up before trying, because I felt I didn’t have the time. I just abandoned the idea. But it took me one swift moment of feeling like a complete loser for failing even to try, to gather myself, determined to at least finish it. A little animation project conceived in less than 24 hours? It took us around 12 hours to record, film, illustrate, mix, animate and render everything. I have to thank Zamri for willing to collaborate with me and teach me After Effects.

This short poetry/animation film thing is the dot. Titik. I know some of my friends make fun of me, but that’s only natural. Sometimes I get upset, other times I laugh with them. In the end, I am my harshest critic. I don’t feel disappointed with myself, because I tried. If I haven’t, I’d kick myself. This thingamagig, with its last-minute illustrations, amateur animation and funny narration, is that dot for me. Not a dot as in noktah, but a dot in a hopefully much bigger picture. I’m finding my place in the world, and hopefully I will have many chances to combine all of my passions into the work that I do. This new blog and website of mine, is also another dot.

You might have grand ideas, but don’t feel the pressure of realizing that great idea immediately. If you have a hard time starting, for the fear of everything or anything, just start something. Anything. Works just as well if you don’t have any ideas whatsoever. Just do something. Just a dot. To get you started. Then you follow those dots up with more dots, eventually forming a line. Then you know where it goes from there

Cross your own borders of reality. From mind, to pen, to paper, to life.

Titik demi titik hingga menjadi garisan, tanpa ilusi bayangan, jelas ternyata…
mampukah kau melangkah hujung garisnya?

Crackle open your mind, decode with your vision
taste with your tongue, listen to yourself.
All those mysteries locked in your head… don’t you want to know?

Running lights can pass you by, before any choice was given
don’t waste your time, just listen to yourself.
All those mysteries locked in your head… don’t you want to know?

Just listen to yourself
every second you scream out
every minute is a burn out
every hour is a fallout
every day is just about
the same as your whole life
are you too frail to wander out?

Just listen to yourself
you don’t have much time, stretch out and listen
beyond your bones, listen to yourself.