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!

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.

  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.

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.”

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’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.