"Oasis" 10 x 14 in. ORIGINAL
Acryla-gouache on Watercolor Paper
Imam Hussain is referred to as the "Prince of Martyrs," (hence this equestrian portrait) as he embodies grace and divine beauty even in the peak of human suffering. In Karbala's harsh desert wasteland, the gruesomely beheaded Hussain becomes a wellspring of Paradise, a garden oasis which millions find refuge in every year during the Arbaeen pilgrimage—to rejuvenate souls deadened through indifference to injustice, to weave through pale, dry earth as a vine twisting with pain, grief, anger, righteous indignation, hope, beauty, and more beauty. The shahid—the martyr, the witness—not only lives eternally; he also renders life unto those who feast from his garden. He sprouts with twelve pomegranates: eleven of them carrying the bloody tears of his mother, and one of them still a bloom, yet to ripen. The seventy-two lost that fateful day of Ashura become adornments, delicate blossoms embroidered into his royal gown. Wherever Hussain wanders, his sky scatters the rains of clemency. The noble steed Zuljana, though his eyes are blinded with the blood of his master, dutifully carries on forward into the realm of all possibilities.
"Oasis" 10 x 14 in. ORIGINAL
Acryla-gouache on Watercolor Paper
Imam Hussain is referred to as the "Prince of Martyrs," (hence this equestrian portrait) as he embodies grace and divine beauty even in the peak of human suffering. In Karbala's harsh desert wasteland, the gruesomely beheaded Hussain becomes a wellspring of Paradise, a garden oasis which millions find refuge in every year during the Arbaeen pilgrimage—to rejuvenate souls deadened through indifference to injustice, to weave through pale, dry earth as a vine twisting with pain, grief, anger, righteous indignation, hope, beauty, and more beauty. The shahid—the martyr, the witness—not only lives eternally; he also renders life unto those who feast from his garden. He sprouts with twelve pomegranates: eleven of them carrying the bloody tears of his mother, and one of them still a bloom, yet to ripen. The seventy-two lost that fateful day of Ashura become adornments, delicate blossoms embroidered into his royal gown. Wherever Hussain wanders, his sky scatters the rains of clemency. The noble steed Zuljana, though his eyes are blinded with the blood of his master, dutifully carries on forward into the realm of all possibilities.
