Art of redefinition

Shaikha Wafa Hasher Al Maktoum, Dubai-based mixed-media artist and owner of Fn Design Studio

I have always been told to think outside the box. At the same time, I was only allowed to colour inside the box (in art). Now, not only do I think outside the box, but I colour outside the box, break the box and make new boxes of my own.

It is a philosophy, a kind of personalised belief, that has steered my life in the direction it is today.

It has influenced my choices, some negative, others positive. I look at my personal diary where I write my thoughts, observations, ideas, musings... It has all sorts of markings and scribbles that evince chaos instead of order.

You will spot deliberately underlined sentences, hastily struck-through words and carefully highlighted areas in different colours. You will find several arrows pointing from one paragraph on a page to another on a facing page. You will also find

Post-It notes and tissues appended on a few pages; amusing vignettes of times when suitable writing paper wasn't available.

Together these markings and scribbles trace the trajectory of my thoughts. Their permanence allows me to revisit them to check where I went wrong, to improve and to learn. They're a springboard for limitless possibilities. Like His Highness Shaikh Mohammad Bin Rashid Al Maktoum, Vice President and Prime Minister of the UAE and Ruler of Dubai said: "In the race for excellence, there is no finish line."

Or as is the case with the inspirational Mexican artist Frida Kahlo, famous for her dramatic symbolism, and unusual, colourful paintings. She didn't allow disability – childhood polio and several injuries to the back, leg and foot as an adult – to atrophy her artistic talent.

It is the same for me. I don't see a finish line nor do I allow obstacles to deter my determination.

I like redefining things around me.

Do you remember the quote in the movie Forrest Gump (1994)? The one where the protagonist says, "Mama always said life was like a box of chocolates – you never know what you're gonna get." Do you know

I interpreted it as life is like a box of chocolates, and I want that one!

I love reinterpreting famous quotes, texts, loci classici and images. When I redrew the expressionist painting of The Scream by Norwegian artist Edvard Munch, I depicted an agonised figure against an incarnadine sky with headphones and an iPod.

I constantly search to give existing objects new meaning and strive to give movement to the static. I ask myself, "What have I learnt from it? How can I make it better? What can I do so people want more of it?" I call this process creative evolution. When I see something I like, I capture it on camera. My camera is always with me. At times, I am aware of why I take a particular photo, at other times,

I can't put my finger on it. But every single photo is elevated creatively. It doesn't remain a digital file with a jpeg extension. I use it in my artwork – as a layer with typography or in a collage. I have so many eidetic memories that find expression in my work as well.

And even though I experiment using computer software (Adobe Photoshop, Illustrator, InDesign, etc.), each idea of mine starts on paper. I express myself through art.

When I was younger, I excelled in the arts. I formalised my interest with a Bachelor of Arts degree in Art and Design from Zayed University. I also got a degree in Business Administration from the Higher Colleges of Technology (Dubai Women's College).

Painting, drawing, pottery, graphic design, photography and art workshops were constants.

Maybe I grew into an artist by osmosis since several members of my family were active in poetry, photography, culture and sport.

In my private studio, I have art films including Helvetica, which is based on typography and visual culture, Frida, which is based on Kahlo's life and Pollock, based on American painter Jackson Pollock's life. I have reprints of works by the American artist, Andy Warhol, a leader of the Pop Art movement. I have books by British street artist Bansky as well as on Leonardo da Vinci. And I have Virtù, objects brought back from my travels.

I love to work with various media.

To date I've exhibited and participated at several events in the UAE including Perceptions at The Third Line gallery; Zayed University Print Making Exhibition; the Arab Journalism Awards; and Celebration of the Arabian Horse for Shaikh Hamdan Bin Mohammad Bin Rashid Al Maktoum, Crown Prince of Dubai and my brother Shaikh Maktoum Bin Hasher Al Maktoum, chairman of the board of Al Nasr Club.

A few months ago, I decided to combine my talent and business qualification.

I launched Fn (pronounced 'fann'), a design concept. In Arabic, Fn means the arts. These two letters encapsulate such profundity! Our first event was titled Sketch. It was held at the JamJar gallery and saw professional and amateur artists complete works that went on sale immediately after completion. It was a resounding success. I see immense potential for Fn. This is only the beginning. In the next few years, the concept will fill more artistic space.

My reality is constantly redefined.

This soil is my permanent home.

I was born and raised here as were the previous generations of my family. The changes in the city are different for me because I am rooted here.

I compare the reticulate network of roads to veins in the human body. Just like the veins carry blood to energise the body, the roads carry people and cars to energise the city.

I live off Shaikh Zayed road and have watched my skyline change.

I have grown up with these changes. The changing diversity represents progress and new interpretations.

I connect to this changing reality.

It is like growing with a pet dog or cat – you grow together.

On another note, in the grand play of life, I love how one day we mourn a death and on another we celebrate a birth.

My childhood was innocent, playful and carefree.

When I watch my younger cousins, nieces and nephews spend most of their time in front of a television, computer screen or a gaming console, I compare their childhood to mine.

Theirs is a plangent reminder of the loss of simplicity – a reminder of what it meant to spend hours playing outdoors and thumb through musty shelves and friable pages of old books in libraries. I also remember countless impromptu family trips to the mountains and the desert. We still go on trips, but it requires a lot more planning to check who is available.

All these memories rush into nostalgia when I go through old family albums. My mother has one for each of us documenting our lives since birth. (I am the middle child of five children.) They are presented in a scrapbook format with annotations and dates. There is a grade one photo of school friends during a visit to the Dubai Zoo where I am wearing a checkered uniform.

I remembered my mother had lent me her camera when I was barely six, and the teacher used it to take my photo. Why my mother allowed me to handle a camera when I was barely six? Or why did I ask for one? I will probably never know. What I do know is that the artistic journey started from there.