The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
By Deniz Zeynep
I discovered these two artists during different stages of my life. Jelalludin Rumi in my early twenties and Mademoiselle Chanel in my early teens. The former being my source of much needed wisdom and comfort during a latent adolescence filled with existential questions
(What comes first, love or marriage? What is my calling?) and dark blue cynicism (I have no aura). And Chanel being the epitome of feminine strength that juxtaposed perfectly with my yearning for kohl eyeliner, while continuing to blister my hands and roll my ankles as a tennis player. Flash forward to age 26 and these two artists continue to fill my half-full glass of muse booze.
Mademoiselle Chanel was the renegade I admired because of her use of fabric as a symbol of freedom in the early 1920's. Freedom from the corset of stuffy social norms that revolutionized how a woman should feel about herself. Free. Confident. Unapologetically herself. Bonjour, knit jersey, linen, and tweed. À tout à l'heure, boned corsets and gossamer petticoats. Being able to wear loose-fitted materials allowed women the freedom to explore the universe. And to bring that statement down to earth: Chanel's choice of a breezy fabric encouraged women to jump on a horse and go parading through the woods creating her own fairy tale. She could ride her stallion during the day (she has the freedom to choose which kind, too) and paint her lips blood red to dress her needle-sharp wit. As an avid horseback rider, Chanel would wear the clothes of her lovers to keep up with with the male-dominated riders. This simple act of trumping through Nature and wearing the wind instead of lace gloves was the wardrobe change that women needed. The bird officially left the cage.
"If you are not born with wings, do nothing to impede their growth." —Mademoiselle Coco Chanel
And then, there's Jelalludin Rumi—the man who has inspired my itch to unlatch this proverbial cage with his words that sway to and fro like a willow tree. A mevlana (whirling dervish) from modern-day Afghanistan, he reached and preached for a spiritual abyss through spinning and prayer. I like to think of it as dance. The combination of dance and poetry together are essential when it comes to my personal journey of meditation. Movement is my meditation: both with my pen and my feet. This encouragement of action and movement during prayer made
Rumi a maverick of his time—why kneel when you can bust a move?
The beauty of his words reveal the human condition's ebb and flow of struggle and comfort. The beauty of his dance illuminates the notion that there is nothing between you and the force with which you wish to connect. You are the only one with the key to the cage.
"Let the beauty we love be what we do. There are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the ground."
Rumi's praise of freedom paired with his jovial spirit are woven into the light, yet resistant fabrics I choose for myself a la Madamemoiselle Chanel. The two may have lived in different centuries, but they must have swam together in that universal stream of consciousness. Rumi's feet gently twirling by the shore, one hand pointing to the sun, and the other pointing to the pebbles; and Chanel, with her linen pants rolled up past her ankles, dipping her toes over the dock, cigarette in hand—while the wind brings the branches of the willow and whirling smoke together in an airy dance.
#Real #ArtisticInspiration #RealArtists #RumiPoet #ChanelDesigner #ChanelAsArtist #ArtTalk #ArtisticConvo
Visit our shop and subscribe. Sponsor us. Submit and become a contributor. Like us on Facebook and follow us on Twitter.