MADRE

A world unimagined by man. The heart's reunion with mind and matter. The very form of life that beats with a rhythm, unseen to the world. To only its mother. A wonderful creature; protecting her young infinitely. If she chooses to be a mother, she will rise to her faith - an all powerful state.
 
Saira Hussain
Tara Noelle

NOW SEEN IN MOTHER MUSE MAGAZINE

A warrior - One that I have yet to meet.

A time of bliss and wonders experienced by only a woman. A woman that gives her all to an infinite joy of life that spreads throughout the inner universe - her womb. 
A story I was given the honour of directing of beautiful mama @tabiacharles. 

Tabia is a strong willed woman. As an athlete prior to her career in Project Management, when I first connected with her it was through social media. Honestly, I was not prone to enjoy the direct messages but it is what is easiest when it comes to connection in our world today. I've always wanted to connect deeper, stronger and on a larger platform but not for anyone in particular. The inspiration behind this shoot was motherhood; a transitional period many women face even with the demise of human connection.

A physical, mental and emotional transition that I can only imagine through the beauty of art and sound. Tabia Charles had given me the opportunity to style her with Jaya & Co - a Toronto based jewelry company owned by two sisters who are also two beautiful mothers. 

And then came you… 

All I can do is smile when I think about my baby boy.  He reminds me of how much I adore his father and how he was conceived in the utmost love.

Not just that “I love you” kind of love but that unspoken kind of love that you want to hold onto for a lifetime and share with the world.

Before trying to conceive, I knew what kind of woman I wanted to become before having children. I wanted to be a woman and mother that my son not only will love unconditionally but would also be proud of and can look up to.

My whole life, I have been constantly working towards becoming the best version of myself.  I always knew there was something else driving my desire to be better aside from my personal goal. But it all makes sense now…The universe was inspiring me to become the best version of myself for my son…in which he will be so deserving.

Being pregnant is one of the best experiences of my life journey thus far. I never knew I could feel so fabulous 30 lbs heavier with a huge bulge for a stomach! I embraced the additional weight gain, the swollen feet, stretch marks and the mini moles that appeared on my face. I am so intrigued with this little miracle growing inside of me that I want to relish in every single moment possible during my pregnancy. I want to be able to share these moments of joy with my son when he’s old enough to understand.

These maternity photos are a celebration of me truly embracing motherhood and the anticipation of bringing beautiful life into this world. I feel that much more excited to meet my baby boy and I’m overwhelmed with happiness and gratitude that I have been chosen to be his mother.

Dear D’Angelo,
You will one day understand the hopes and dreams that I have for you and why I waited until this very moment in my life to have you. It will all makes sense to you some day.
Love, your mother.

- Tabia Charles
April 30th 2018 marks beautiful baby boy D'Angelo's 4th month birthday.
Congratulations to Tabia and her beautiful family.

As a first generation Canadian, my lens will always be full of colour. My perspective on life will be to always circulate around inclusivity; creating a world of my own. To provide a platform of expression to define society and it's elite. 
Mothers are the elite.

No region, no language, no colour, no creed can ever define what Mothers do best. To our mothers, the mothers before us and to the ones of today - we honour you in light and darkness. We give you our every breath.' Comment below on the Art of motherhood if you are a new mother or a to be Mama. 

I now style maternity shoots.
For more information, email Saira today.

Thank you


Tara Noelle
Dawna Boot Make up
Jaya & Co
Chandan Fashion
Mother Muse Magazine
Tabia Charles

NOW SEEN IN PRINT
Must Be Kismet Magazine 2018
Photography - Divine Method Photo
​

NOW 
Radiating
into my
​30s

​StageTWO,
w i s d o m

​As I revolve around the sun for another chapter, I carry my weight with these words:

a letter to myself..​
'Today the colours turn a tone closer to being a shade. My vows to the great accomplishments in
life, have shortened their distance in time. My culture-clock has brought waves of challenges that I can no longer use education as an excuse for an extension. I now belong to the 30 and above class on the surveys and grants are available to me for my best words and no longer my age. Listening to my voice is like listening to a broken cassette filled with Hope that an opportunity to be 20 again will arise. Marriage is now a phase I want to pass so I can officially live my life without boundaries. Trust is an exemplary token of appreciation I hold dearly.

​Turning 30 today just got me in a hurry. Living life through my creations has justified that age really is like fine cheddar. The best portion of your life is not determined by your age but by your accomplishments. 

​
StageFIVE,
liberat-ion

As every passing moment goes by, I allow another string on my heart to play a melody. 
A tune I connect with the earth that rattled my mother's doors as I entered her womb. 
The soil on the soles of my feet are from the warmer climates of the East where turmeric and sandalwood create a fine base for wisdom and social standards. 
My roots still watered from the weight of hair in oils scented with hibiscus and mustard seeds.

My spine overlooking the sea towards the West. With eyes as sharp as the eagle's flight. My age is marked with entitlements to knowing the finest silks and hand cut glass. Carvings of sand and wood cut creases in between the cushion of my toes as I traveled into the storms of the unknown. 

Inferior to this land, I am a woman with an adventure pierced into my back. The adornments I wear are now my reflections and experiences. I forever travel light with trunks filled with certainty and liberation.

​
These are words from me to you to guide you in the awareness of yourself. The journey that must take place by stepping out your front door. The gaze through your windows will only take you so far, so if this written aids you in your adventure than please write it on your heart. Liberation is a part of who we are; humanity. We live to seek for the love of ourselves in others and when patience grows weak, we succumb to the voice of our surroundings. Be aware of your spirit and acknowledge its worth for she will live infinitely when she hears your voice.

Credits:

Art Direction & Styling/Story: Breath of Henna
Wardrobe: Chandan Fashion
Photography: Divine Method Photo
MUA: Beauty by Bu
Jewelry: RJS Company
Flowers: Your Occassion Flowers
Rugs: Kasra Persian Rugs
Location: Lovt Studios
Publication: Must Be Kismet 

When PAPER
breathes
FLOWERS

Writing hasn't always been my strength, which may be a surprise to some of you. Throughout the course of last year, my work has been published in wedding, fashion and art magazines. Starting the year fresh again, I wanted to create poetically and so I masked my words into the crevices of paper with paper flowers. When there is an event, I always want to pursue it individually; challenging myself with time. Punctuality always came late to me but that never allowed a dent into my creativity. As promised, here is my written tutorial on hand made paper flowers. For the Must Be Kismet Wedding Show, I wanted to create paper flowers. Not your average paper flowers that every decorator creates (frames, arches and flushed walls). I wanted to give life to my booth as being a Henna vendor many associate mehndi colours with deeply saturated moroccan stones and South Asia's vast variety of coloured spices. I always want my Brides to feel breath taking and beautiful. These flowers had to speak by their weight and size. So I found my way researching paper stores the first week of January and found an intimate space, decorated in all its charm, The Paper Place.

S
TE
PS

The nectar - twirl & pull Firstly you want to make sure you have a 180 lb crepe paper (colour is up to you) Measure out 1 meter of crepe paper and cut. Fold the paper in half vertically 3 xs and cut it in thirds. Cut 3/4 along each side so that you have 1/4 of the paper still intact (this will create your repeat) Open the repeat and scrunch together pulling inwards from both ends till you get to the centre with a bunch. Twist this bunch from the top and bottom ends, do this tight. Unravel gently. Individually pull each petal 1/4 " outwards.  Pinch together all ends until in palm of hand (it will look like a bundle) and glue (hot glue gun) around plastic wrap roll. Using mask tape after will help seal it. Repeat tissue bundle 5 xs to achieve large nectar.

S
TE
PS
​

The BLOOM - cut, twirl & pull Measure out 1 meter of crepe paper and cut. Fold the paper in half vertically 2 xs and cut it in half (repeat this step for next set of bloom). Take 1/2 and cut folded ends 3/4" vertically while leaving 1/4" joined. Cut petal shape with 3 bumps Open and scrunch together from end to end till you have a bundle. Twist this bundle from top and bottom ends tightly. Unravel each petal individually. Pull centre of petal to create curve on each petal. Repeat these steps for next 2 sets of halves (change petal shape while cutting). Using card stock, cut out 2 18" wide circles. Create cross in centre using xacto knife.

Petals after being cut are twisted from top and bottom ends in a clockwise motion. Green is added for leaves, marigolds for the nectar and shades of magenta for petals. It's up to you!

Love 
    & 
Tea

Photography: Monika Mistry

 
COME into the garden, Maud,
  For the black bat, night, has flown,
Come into the garden, Maud,
  I am here at the gate alone;
And the woodbine spices are wafted abroad,        5
  And the musk of the rose is blown.
 
For a breeze of morning moves,
  And the planet of Love is on high,
Beginning to faint in the light that she loves
  On a bed of daffodil sky,        10
To faint in the light of the sun she loves,
  To faint in his light, and to die.
 
All night have the roses heard
  The flute, violin, bassoon;
All night has the casement jessamine stirr’d        15
  To the dancers dancing in tune;
Till silence fell with the waking bird,
  And a hush with the setting moon.
 
I said to the lily, “There is but one
  With whom she has heart to be gay.        20
When will the dancers leave her alone?
  She is weary of dance and play.”
Now half to the setting moon are gone,
  And half to the rising day;
Low on the sand and loud on the stone        25
  The last wheel echoes away.
 
I said to the rose, “The brief night goes
  In babble and revel and wine.
O young lord-lover, what sighs are those,
  For one that will never be thine?        30
But mine, but mine,” I sware to the rose,
  “For ever and ever, mine.”
 
And the soul of the rose went into my blood,
  As the music clash’d in the hall:
And long by the garden lake I stood,        35
  For I heard your rivulet fall
From the lake to the meadow and on to the wood,
  Our wood, that is dearer than all;
 
From the meadow your walks have left so sweet
  That whenever a March-wind sighs        40
He sets the jewel-print of your feet
  In violets blue as your eyes,
To the woody hollows in which we meet
  And the valleys of Paradise.
 
The slender acacia would not shake        45
  One long milk-bloom on the tree;
The white lake-blossom fell into the lake
  As the pimpernel doz’d on the lea;
But the rose was awake all night for your sake,
  Knowing your promise to me;        50
The lilies and roses were all awake,
  They sigh’d for the dawn and thee.
 
Queen rose of the rosebud garden of girls,
  Come hither, the dances are done,
In gloss of satin and glimmer of pearls,        55
  Queen lily and rose in one;
Shine out, little head, sunning over with curls,
  To the flowers, and be their sun.
 
There has fallen a splendid tear
  From the passion-flower at the gate.        60
She is coming, my dove, my dear;
  She is coming, my life, my fate;
The red rose cries, “She is near, she is near;”
  And the white rose weeps, “She is late;”
The larkspur listens, “I hear, I hear;”        65
  And the lily whispers, “I wait.”
 
She is coming, my own, my sweet;
  Were it ever so airy a tread,
My heart would hear her and beat,
  Were it earth in an earthy bed;        70
My dust would hear her and beat,
  Had I lain for a century dead;
Would start and tremble under her feet,
  And blossom in purple and red.