Growing up, I was a bit different—I loved asking questions, doing my own thing, and being creative with art and music. But the interpretation of faith I was taught in my community didn't really accept these parts of me.

Art that depicted faces was forbidden.

Music was forbidden.

I shouldn’t question and just obey- because if I questioned I was told it will lead me astray.

A dogmatic version of faith that was just about obeying rules and nothing else.

My naturally curious, artistic, sensitively emotional and non conformist mind didn’t compute with this.

So I grew up thinking and feeling like my true self wasn't okay with God. So, I squashed my dreams and my true self in a corner

“You were given these qualities as a test to see if you obey God and resist your desires. This life is a prison for the believer” I was told.

There was absolutely no conversation about individuality and the authentic self within faith. I adopted the attitude that you just do what you have to do to be a person of faith.

Subsequently, I fell into a deep depression and crisis of faith. I believed what my community preached was absolute because there was no alternative interpretation.

Feeling overpowered, I wanted to reach out to God. But then I thought “There are people who have it so much worse in the world. Why would God listen to me? Why would he care about my emotions? Maybe all of this is a lifelong test that…” as if they were trivial to him.

I was a practicing Muslim (I still am!), I prayed my five times, I did everything that I was meant to do like a tickbox exercise. But my worship/ibaadag felt empty. My soul was missing as I thought my authentic self was not welcome. So I exiled her. I carried on doing my roles and responsibilities expected of me as a daughter, sister, etc..

Throughout this struggle, I decided to take a trip to Istanbul. I met with another religious friend who moved there. We sat in a cafe in Eminonu, we were discussing about Islam and the heart. I told her I wasn’t happy with my life. She told me something that sticks with me to this day:

“Farah, a lot of people don’t ever consider authenticity in their religious practice or how they live their lives. Explore what is truly within your heart. Because it will bring you closer to Allah. There is a hadith that states whoever knows themself knows Allah. And to bring glad tidings always.”

On my last day, as I was praying the Friday prayers in Sultan Ahmet, I was wowed by the beauty around me. The geometric patterns on the mosque ceilings: it’s intertwining vine patterns of blue, gold and maroon that danced on the outer edges of the dome.

The architecture in its different gray hues that towered above in its magnificence. Carving itself a silhouette in the city’s skyline. The motifs on the buildings on the roadside and numerous calligraphy shops on the city streets. These were not just buildings, these were not just bricks and paint. Rather they had a soul to them.

That same day I paid a visit to Taksim Square. As I was strolling down Istiklal avenue there were various musicians playing their cultural songs singing their hearts out. The legacy of the Ottoman golden era truly lived through them.

I was on a spiritual high that day. It made me have the realization:

Joy and authenticity brings us closer to God than trials, tribulations and not being true to oneself.

Sure, trials can help us rearrange our focus and make us better people. But there is a reason why ease is mentioned twice more than hardship in the Quranic verse “Verily with hardship there is ease.”

And what brings joy? Knowing the attributes of God. Because when I know these attributes of God, there is abundance, there is hope, there is cosmic justice.

There is room to be my authentic self and my desires. If there is a god that wants ease for me, and cares for my happiness. This led me to further independent study of my faith. This led me to picking up the paintbrushes to re-ignite the same feelings I felt when I was on that holiday.

I splashed on the blues and the navies onto the canvas to remind me of the domes of The Blue Mosque. I adorned them with different verses of the Quran as well as poetry from Rumi to enliven the heart. In the hope that they too would bring inspiration, ease and joy.

The contrast between the dark background and the white Arabic calligraphy was an imitation of the Ottoman interior architecture that I saw on my spiritual journey.

I lined the artworks with gold to give it that look of excellence- with the calligraphy dancing on the pages, symbolic of the spiritual high that I felt. The same spiritual high you get when looking up at the 800 year old high ceilings decorated in its intricate patterns.

My relationship with God and myself has never been better; I've discarded limiting beliefs about life's purpose and God's intentions. Embracing this mindset led to career success, improved relationships, better health, and I am more practicing than ever.

I hold onto this transformative perspective with gratitude, leaving the past behind.

Now, I want to give that to you for you to enjoy. This is why I created this collection with these colours and patterns that sparked my joy in Istanbul that week. So that you can feel what I felt.