The Beso Series

The Beso series is a trio of 8 x 11” oil paintings that aim to tell a visual story of individual relationships through colour and body language. Beso means kiss in Spanish, and as the name suggests, each piece depicts the act of kissing as an intimate yet commonplace occurrence taken within varying contexts. It explores intimacy between two people and how romantic love manifests through interaction in a given relationship. The warmth emanating from the colour palette and the lighthearted connectedness of the subjects’ facial expressions highlight the interpersonal connection that occurs through a kiss. Each piece delves into a specific aspect of romantic relationships, with one depicting playfulness, the second sincerity, and the third joy. Iconography in the background emphasises this and adds more context surrounding relationship dynamics. There is a focus on inclusivity and positivity across all three works, with depictions

Oil paintings

November 2022 - January 2023 of queer relationships, as well as interracial and interreligious relationships, within this limited canvas space. This is a way to explore the multifaceted ways romance exists in various relationships. There is an emphasis on queer love throughout this series as a way to make space for love that deserves more casual and substantial recognition.

By not showing kisses in their literal or expected form, a simple, ordinary act of romantic love can be interpreted differently within a particular context. It allows the viewer to see the genuine love between the subjects, simultaneously inspiring them to take a moment and appreciate the love and adoration they may see in their lives. Using warm tones and passionate iconography, the Beso paintings begin an artistic journey into the development of idiosyncratic warmth between human beings.

The

First Generation

A world that glorifies Eurocentrism leaves little space for self-love for young people of colour. Conversely, an upbringing centred on a collective identity sprinkles guilt and rejection in the trails of one’s pursuit of happiness.

As we move to a more inclusive environment, one where diversity is showcased and celebrated, remembering the tribulations of my younger self who did everything to reject her cultural identity has only empowered me to fall back in love with it.

I’m sitting here in my paternal family home in Pakistan where my father and his siblings explored their curiosities before immigrating to Canada in 1987. I’m writing from the home where they dreamt, where they embraced, where they loved.

Growing up with a foot in the Western world and the other in my Pakistani identity juxtaposed everything I knew to be right. The communities of my people abroad used culture as a means to justify moral policing due to an innate fear of losing their backgrounds in the aftermath of diaspora. Adding to the unattainable uniformity of the Pakistani identity was the orientalism embedded in western consciousness that rendered me paralyzed in understanding my heritage.

How to look, what to wear, and how to act were constantly dictated by each circumstance and in the process of attempting to conform to each – a true sense of self seemed unattainable.

The First Generation

I didn’t feel like there was a place for me in the traditional atmosphere of my upbringing, I felt like the black sheep in a herd of cattle. To mitigate my lack of belonging, I thrusted myself to fit into the world outside my home.

I concealed my beauty marks on my face, forced my naturally curly hair to straighten under the heat of an iron. I religiously kept my arms shaved, eyebrows thin, and upper lip hairless as I did my best to force myself into a box that was far too small for my size.

I allowed others to dictate my state of being – my insecurities forced my heart and ears open to those who didn’t care for me, thus superficially filling my desire for belonging.

The catch-22 of aging is the interests one pushes away when they’re young are the ones they come back to as they reconnect with themselves later in life. This rings truer than ever to my 21-year-old ears that yearn to hear the stories of those who came before me and seek to appreciate the beauty of the heritage I come from.