Posts By :

oriel

Turkish Encounters

Turkish Encounters 150 150 oriel

haremIn 2004 we went to Turkey; it was our girls first overseas trip, Lily and Ella were 7 and 3 years old.  For us it was on obvious place to go – the jewel connecting point between East and West, the Asian and European continents and cultures.  Besides visiting the Topkapi Palace and its illustrious Harem, Istanbul also found us seeking out henna traditions there.

It wasn’t obvious, but occasionally I would glimpse a woman’s hand, slipped out from long sleeves, exposing henna on finger-tips, nails and palms.  We supposed these women were from the country as the henna was simple, rough and seemed utilitarian rather than decorative.  I was quietly excited by this light brush with local henna and kept my eyes open for more.  

Kilos of the powder could be found in the city’s Spice Market.  They assured us the Indian henna was best, but we wanted the Syrian.  From our perspective, it was far more exotic – we’d never come across Syrian henna before and was unavailable in Australia.  The Turkish perspective was possibly the opposite, with Syria being a neighbour, Indian henna was the more valued being from further afield.  For us, Syrian henna had greater value – it was Persian after all.

We were advised to visit the Ortakoy Markets for henna art, but our enthusiasm deflated when we finally made it there and found only “black henna” and a design book full of American cartoon figures.  I showed the artist there some photos of what I do; she said no-one was doing work as “professional” as this.  How incredibly tragic I thought, with Turkeys extensive and elaborate art history, as well as rumours I’d heard of unusual design placement back-in-the-day.  The ladies at the Ortakoy market were very curious how I mixed and applied my henna paste, so I shared what I do, hoping they might use real henna from then on.  This experience made us understand that the culture of henna here was not traditionally found in the street, but in the home.  It also indicated there was perhaps less activity in the city than in rural areas.  Had its importance become less relevant in the city?

On our last morning we chatted to a neigbouring shop owner, Typhoon, who had moved to Istanbul from the country.  In his village in Capidoccia, all the women use henna for their hands and their hair, and as a medicine to heal wounds.  He told us they are farming families and the henna heals their cuts.  Cuts on the body are treated with henna and other plants, (although he wasn’t sure which ones).  He went on to explain that henna is part of their Shamanic Culture – nature worship, the evil eye and other superstitions, (such as not standing up to drink water!).  When Islam moved in to this region, it was taken up as their religion, while shamanism was kept as their culture, hence, the continued use of henna.  Typhoon was aware of henna’s original use to heal farming hands and that decoration came later.  What a great street-side chat!  I left that day satisfied we had been given a small, but authentic insight into the contemporary use of henna in Turkey.  What a relief!

ella-istanbul lily-istanbul-ii

Post note:  digital cameras were new to us in 2004 and we managed to delete all our photos from this trip!  The images here are from Lily’s disposable camera.

Birth of a Henna Artist

Birth of a Henna Artist 150 150 oriel
Jemma
HOW DID YOU GET INTO HENNA?

Possibly my most frequently asked question; that and “How long have you been doing this?”.

In 1996, Drew, my husband, and I hitch-hiked from Paris to Morocco.  We were young, full of bravado and on a shoestring budget.  We knew nothing much about Morocco, except that we wanted to get there.  Some of our friendly rides offered ideas of places to go: mainly avoid the northern cities and head straight to Chefchaouen in the Rif Mountains of the north-east.  This we successfully did, with a little help from our friends – our first and only hitch in Morocco was a Spanish couple with a VW van who we approached at the border town of Ceuta.  They were heading there directly and took us to their favourite pension.  Chaouen was our introduction to Morocco, and what a sweet one it was.  It’s misty in the mountains with fresh, cool air and a powerful spring that supplies the towns water.  Mint Tea here was absolutely the best in the country.  We had planned to stay for a couple of days, but rested for a week.

One afternoon I saw a young Spanish woman in the street, her arms covered with dark brown patterns, like lace gloves.  I was instantly amazed and intrigued, couldn’t take my eyes off them!  A few days passed and I finally asked someone about this artwork I’d seen; the young man led me through the woven streets – up and down and around and over and under.  I had no idea where I was and laughed out loud at the fantastic, non-linear world they inhabit.  We arrived at a small gate and home – glowing in shades of pale beautiful blue – of an older lady who could henna.  As it turns out, the price I was told seemed more than I could spare; we had such little money, anything above simple food and a ticket to the next town did not seem possible. 

Had I known my life ahead was to embody henna so fully, I would have made the stretch!  Of course, the longing for henna stayed with me and I knew I would get some at the next opportunity.  After a bus to Fez and the slow train to Marrakech, amongst the classic mayhem that is Place Jemaa el Fna, we saw henna again.  From my diary:

Monday 16th September 1996

Entertained and fed in Jemma el Fna, “the end of the world” or “place of the dead”.

Full of Life; non-stop, continual, ever-changing life.

Musicians and juice stalls are constant, but others come and go as they are needed. 

Shoe Polishers are abundant early in the day catching those on their way to work. 

Bread comes out as it is baked, a permanent row of small bread ‘huts’ fill and competitive owners sit side-by-side.

Snake taunters, nut stalls, medicine men, women with colourful knotted hats, fossils, potions and gimmicks.

And as that rose-red city glows in the sunset pink, up fire the food stalls en mass.

Snail soup, harira, boiled meat hacks, tomato salads, roasted capsicum, sliced eggplant, couscous, vegetable tajine, chickpeas, fish, chicken stews, meat kebabs and tea with high intensity spice cakes to finish.  All stalls working extremely hard for your business. 

Crowds, the place is full, buying, moving.

My hand is grabbed.  A woman, veiled in disguise, wants to decorate my hands with henna.  Very insistent and states a very high price.  We compromise and I sit thrilled and entranced by what she’d doing.  She gives Drew’s arm a butterfly.

Although it was fast work, the imagery and style, later interpreted for me in the Atlas Mountains were typical Moroccan symbols.  I felt satisfied even though this experience was quite opposite from the intimate and calm one I had passed up with the old lady in her home in the Rif Mountains.

So, here it is, where my wondrous journey with this plant began.  Before traveling to Morocco, I had been studying a BA in Art History and Anthropology, which needed completing on our return – one subject to go!  We moved to the rainforest near Kuranda, Far North Queensland, completed studies, worked in an art gallery and had a baby.  Part time work with the Kuranda Arts Co-operative had to stop when little Lily began to crawl – the sculptures were not safe.  At this time I saw a book for sale in the Cairns bookstore called ‘The Art of Mehndi’ by Sumita Bahtra, and the memory of our love for henna, with thoughts to bring it back to Australia, resurfaced.  I bought the book and decided that’s what I was going to do: be a henna artist.  Fortunately, our good friends, Kym and Belle, let us draw on them for practice as we prepared our first stall for Woodford Folk Festival – that was 1999/2000; we have been there every year since!

Crowning Glory

Crowning Glory 150 150 oriel

When I arrived at my friends sun-filled garden and climbed inside the Mongolian yurt, there was a sense that something special was about to happen.  This circular, hand-made space became our cocoon for connection and emergence – I was here to create a henna crown, the first of two for Tracy Murray (of Shut Up and Relax Yoga), both times captured by professional photographer, Kate Modlock, and sustained with tea, cake and vegetables by Alexandra Westaway, our host.

It’s amazing what happens when 4 women come together in the name of art, healing and friendship; these women have a special place in my heart and mind and I feel honoured to be a part of this evolution.

Tracy-1  This first afternoon was a gift from Tracy’s friends – which she was unaware of until my arrival bringing their card of support.   My design inspiration came in part from the image on their card and partly from Mongolian and Indian folk art, plus some of my favourite henna motifs.

Certain magic was formed and I’m thrilled to see some far-reaching results from the time we spent together:  SPOONFUL (issue three), a beautifully printed Arts Health Institute Publication, contains a piece about Tracy’s experience featuring one of Kate’s beautiful images.

Spoonful-issue3

 

It reads: “Tracy Murray, a 51-year-old mother of three from Brisbane, has experienced wearing a henna crown twice as a result of chemotherapy for breast cancer.  Murray started losing her hair two weeks after her first chemo treatment.  Oriel, a henna artist from Henna Harem created both crowns.

Murray said she felt empowered as a result of her henna crown.  “When I had the crown, particularly the first one, I didn’t feel like hanging my head or hiding my baldness.  I wanted to show it off and stand tall with it.  Even now, as my hair comes back in, I don’t feel the need to hide.”

Murray says she would love to see more women wearing henna crowns and for more people to understand why it is important.  “You can feel very diminished when you’re going through any treatment.  I wanted to have something that expressed how I felt on the inside, that this physical body could show that I was a fighter.  I didn’t want pity, just understanding.”

Shoot&Share

For this image Kate also placed in the Top 100 of the massive Shoot & Share photography contest.  Congratulations Kate!

I’ve also just heard we are to be in the next issue of The Beacon (Breast Cancer Network Australia publication).

On the second occasion Tracy’s hair was growing back and she wanted another crown before the opportunity was lost for one, shaving away the precious new growth.  How fabulous is that for an endorsement!?    This time we met in a Brisbane park, our same roles once again, with Tracy the muse and canvas.  Design inspiration came from Ottoman-style flower motifs and European peasant art.
Tracy-2Tracy’s blog on each henna crown can be seen:

shutupandrelaxyoga.com/henna-crown-yep-im-finally-princess/

shutupandrelaxyoga.com/henna-crown-2/

Kate’s blog on each henna crown can be seen:

katemodlock.com.au/henna-crown/

katemodlock.com.au/henna-heals-brisbane-portrait-session/

From all those that have received one, I understand that wearing a henna crown when undergoing a baring condition, such as the results of cancer treatment or alopecia aerate, can be enormously uplifting creating a sense of strength and beauty.

My first henna head was for international artist, Alexandra Spyratos in 2009.  She was documenting her cancer journey in film format, (although I’ve never seen the footage!).  You can read her testimonial on our website here.

If you know anyone who could benefit from this creative expression, please share my details, I treasure the opportunity to share special life moments; or can recommend other artists who may be geographically closer to safely and sensitively attend.

Live as if Dying

Live as if Dying 150 150 oriel

My mother died at 37.  I’ve always been rather flippant about death, knowing very clearly it is a part of life and happens to the best of us.  Knowing also there is no going back, there is nothing more final and it is the ultimate void.

I had a health scare recently; it changed me.  It made me move slower and be more careful with myself, kinder, gentler.  I liked that.  I went to bed earlier instead of thinking of all the small things I could do before I let the day go.

I wondered what else I might like to do with my life?  Thinking it was not going to be a long time, I decided nothing much, I was pretty happy with what I had.  Perhaps visit an isolated island off Tasmania where the wind howls and the plants have adapted into beautiful forms and the colours are muted.  Mostly I wanted to get organised.

I would get rid of all the superfluous clothes I have and keep the most favourite for my 2 girls – I’d already been through my cupboard and made my imaginary pile.   I’d record my voice and make a list of all the worldly knowledge I’d like to pass on, write some cards for birthdays and special occasions, like weddings and births I’d never get to see, and make instructions on how to suitably celebrate Mothers Day, as I know all these times can be challenging.

Finish projects that I’ve started, and not worry about others that no longer seem important.  Go through all my oddments in the garage – sorting and flinging.  Read several books (rather quickly) that sit on my shelf before I never get to find out what’s in them!  Eat yummy food that makes my body feel loved and nourished and cared for.  Get my business things in order – how best to pass on the legacy of the wonderful world of henna I’ve created, grown and loved, so that it can continue to bring joy to others.  Make photo albums and cuddle my girls a lot.

As it happens it seems I have more time on my hands, the doctor has reassured me and apparently there’s nothing wrong with me!  However, I still feel compelled to make sure I do all of the above, plus more.  Make life juicier, nourishing, sustainable and exciting, take risks, have the courage.  Always have the premise that I am in the right place at the right time.  Create the great adventure, do rather than just thinking of doing.  Be kind.  Open my eyes, my heart and my soul wider.  Dream and make things happen.  Continue to breathe deeply, laugh fully and always, always see the beauty.

Live as Dying copy

Sunshine on Splendour

Sunshine on Splendour 150 150 oriel

Like an opium den of self indulgence, people come to the Henna Harem to experiment, to mark, to symbolise and celebrate. They wait, they stay, they laugh and then leave with a beautiful stain, a strong memory and a few new friends.

SITG2013

 

After years earning its endearing side name of “splendour in the mud”, this years epic event looks set for clear skies.

SITG2013-4

 

This year we’ll be hanging out in the badass back corner of the festival near the bonfire, the drive-in and the MixUp Stage.

SITG-ball

Returning to the Middle Ages

Returning to the Middle Ages 150 150 oriel

Our henna stall has attended the Abbey Medieval Tournament since 2004 providing a traditional henna experience to those visiting Abbeystowe.

Our henna paste is made fresh using natural ingredients. Over the weekend we create traditional designs from Medieval Europe, Persia, Africa, India and Egypt.

Information boards are displayed for public interest with henna use and design trends during the Middle Ages, as well as a long list of countries using henna between 600 and 1600 AD.

We love coming to the Abbey Medieval Tournament in pursuit of fun, inspiration and historical excellence!

In 2014, this event is on 12th & 13th July.

Abbey 20112011

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA2006

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA2006

Abbey 2012                                   2012