there's a lonely tree standing alone facing vast lake, that's my Amber companion's final resting place.
I see him whenever I gaze at the horizon, I feel him when the desert wind blows and I hear him in the rustling of palm tree branches. All what's left are memories and that solace I found in nature which I hope in time will be enough to sooth the spike of his departure.
Out in the Desert,
past the Lake
glows an Amber light
Three white butterflies,
land softly
Tender words and gentle lines, a tribute from friend blogger Ramona Felse
And a quite moment of remembering, a dedication from Terri Windling to the memory of my Amber companion.
I want to say thank you for all the heartfelt warmth I received from all of you lovely people.. saying thank you seems inadequate, but I mean it.
I have watched a dark sand storm take over peaceful blue skies
and suddenly the view has changed.
I find myself standing alone at the end of a chapter in my life. But I have learned that wherever there is an ending there is always a beginning.
I embrace the change and start my first step into this new beginning and this new path.
All things pass and something new and wonderful is always beginning.
On this note I shall leave you with a snippets of the heavenly creature that conquered my imagination and the pages of my sketchbook, shyly glancing, impatiently awaiting to come forth with a tale in it's tail.
Al-Moulid’s Doll (Arousit almoulid) is a distinctive feature of Prophet Mohamed’s Birthday ceremonies in Egypt.
It is thought to be related to ancient Egyptian and also possibly to Coptic backgrounds
ivory dolls close in resemblance were found in Pharaonic tombs, and similar dolls and figurines can be seen in the Coptic museum.
The origin of the dolls has many interpretations. One interpretation is that soldiers were promised the most beautiful women on earth as a reward for their bravery in war. Another is that El Hakim Ba'amr Ellah, one of the kings of the Fatimid Era, loved one of his wifes dearly that he allowed her to accompany him in El Moulid parade. The queen appeared with her white gown wearing a garment crown of jasmine, inspired by the occasion the candy makers carved two candy molds, one for the queen and another for the king riding his horse.
Starting with the moulid doll’s attire, one can see that it reflects the costumes of women during the Fatimid era in Egypt. Since the Fatimids and Abbasids were influenced by the Persians, you can also detect a distinct Persian influence in the design.
The head-turban, narrow waistline, layers of clothes and an excess of frills are typical Fatimid clothes. The tight vest that fans out into a generous A-shaped dress that covers the doll’s ivory body is a typical Mamluk costume. The colourful paper fans clasped to her back are derived from the feathered fans used by the caliphate -The number of fans adds to the value of the doll- The corsage reflects typical peasants’ clothes and the shimmering golden and silver paper necklaces echo the traditional peasant gold necklace, known as kerdan.
The generous black kohl (eye liner) that outlines her eyes and brows is a typical ancient Egyptian trend. Also the excess pink blush is attributed to the makeup style of the ancient Egyptians.
On a corresponding note, the moulding of the candy figurines is equally fascinating. Significantly, similar wooden moulds were used by the Ancient Egyptians for shaping their amulets.
First the indigenous artists would engrave the shape of the doll on a wooden mould that splits into two sides. Then they’d add large amounts of sugar, mix it with water and lemon and leave on the stove to boil. The mixture is poured into the wooden mold and left to dry.
The end result is an ivory figurine with a cylinder hollow body to ensure stability.
The figurine is then ready for decoration.
Unfortunately for this time-honored tradition of craftsmanship that was passed down from generation to generation,
the authentic sugar dolls and figurines made in this celebration have long become obsolete, replaced by modern-day plastic alternatives.
Only one sugar-making factory continues to mould the traditional sugar figurines. Boulaq's "Imam and Refai" Factory, founded in 1920, boasts doll-makers who have inherited the craft from generations before them -- some of them in their 40th year at the factory.
I found this old Egyptian musical sket that take place inside a real sugar figurine's workshop. Watch them work and hum their song.
Inspired by the joyful season I created this drawing of the sugar doll...
proudly standing in a meditative state and
in her fan she's holding all the magic and mysteries of El Moulid and it's folks.
I deliberately avoided the frills and fans and all the rest of the taboo most common distintcivte features of the sugar dolls.. perhaps it's a dislike to all the insubstantial glitter about it. I was more interested in the essence of the subject which is usually lost in the process of portraying all the flimsiness that covers the beautiful ivory figure of the sugar doll in most drawings.
I made this drawing when I was a teen, in comparison to my work of today, I see how my lines has changed.. my first drawing with all it's simplicity and imperfections and my recent drawing with all it's yearning to become... I love both drawings and both are part of me, it's almost like regarding a childhood photo in comparison to my own mirror reflection of this morning.
Far away from our oasis and our favorite hill.. far away from home, today I enter a third decade of my life with a heart aching for my amber companion, I learned yesterday that he's suffering from a seriouse sever illness and we're both in Cairo for his medical treatment. I had to leave my pup at the hospital, and for the first time in Seven years we're apart!
This morning of my birthday it rained, quite unusual for this time of year, but when it rains in Egypt we say: " make a prayer when rain falls for the doors of heavens are wide open to receive all calls" and so I pray that my pup will be, soon home with me, where once again we can leap and race, together through the green haze.
His eyes have looked at me through my quick passed Autumn.
Now our days are shorter, nights are longer and the skies are covered with the cloudy cloak of winter.
I remember seven years ago, when I first laid eyes on a certain amber joyful trickster, he seemed to have stepped out a fairy tale book and rooted himself into my nook, with mischievous grin he won my heart and changed the flavor of my life.
Looking upon this furry soul while resting his head right on my lab as I weave these lines for you, he's sinking deep in dreams of bird chasing, trail sniffing, bones chewing and many wanders to come. I can't discribe in words how deeply his presence have affected me and I'm joyfully grinning and thankful for much love and happiness he brought into my every day.
In keeping my promise to my amber companion I share with you my work of late inspired by his autumn garland covered coat.
Through dried leaves wounding his way back home after his morning wanders, with muddy paws and coat covered with wonders
and many delights of autumn tales tangled into his wild amber hair..
If you take a closer look you'll see.. a bird standing on a branch of a tree.
to that bird there is a tale, it starts with once upon a messing tail...
I met that lonley gray feathered minstrel of spring, his flock departed beyond the sea like all megrants birds do, but he couldn't follow without his lost long wing tail.. in gray to grayish plumage he stood out amongst the green of the park behind my house.. singing, announcing his presence proclaming his territory.... every morning I was joyed to hear his distinctive melody of day break that carried in the freshnies breeze of our morning wanders as he followed us from tree to tree..
until next spring when he had found a partner, despite her long wing tale she decided to stay, to share a nest to share with him a branch of a tree..
four eggs she laid, and the tree where one lonesome shrike stood, was soon covered with 6 healthy singing shrikes, celebrating their new wings among the rustling golden leafs of autumn.
Until one morning I didn't hear their songs of my past year, I searched every park and I looked at every tree, the wild gray feather songsters left without a trace.. and all they left behind is a one signle feather covered with dew.. and a warm memory of a song that still echos within my heart too.
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