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Photography genesis: a portrait of Hathor

It’s not uncommon for people to find solace in creativity when dealing with difficult times in their lives. For me, photography was what helped me cope during a difficult period in my life. In 2015, I was diagnosed with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome (ME/CFS), a disease which leaves me exhausted and unable to do many things I’d previously taken for granted.

I found relief through photography when I started to really explore this art form in the months following my diagnosis.

Nazir Tanbouli, Egyptian artist, at Liverpool Arab Arts Festival

Nazir Tanbouli, Egyptian artist, at Liverpool Arab Arts Festival

If I asked you to imagine a day at a city-centre cultural festival, what would pop into your mind? Music? Crowds? Food? Dancing? An all-round sensory hit of sight, sound, smells and taste?

Probably. I would.

But not, perhaps, a feeling of peace, of quiet, of meditation and of mindfulness.

When I photographed the 2016 Liverpool Arab Arts Festival, it was a feast for the senses. But, for all the colour and music and dancing and food, it was one of the quieter artists who stood out for me: Nazir Tanbouli.

My 5 scariest artefact photography sessions (so far)

My 5 scariest artefact photography sessions (so far)

I love photographing artefacts. I really do. Not only do I get to explore these beautiful, fascinating pieces from history, the whole process is creative, thoughtful, mindful and peaceful.

But, every so often, an artefact comes along that puts the willies right up me.

And no, I’m not talking about photographing mummies in a spooky, Halloween-y way; they’re amazing and awe-inspiring to photograph in their own way, but not scary.

No. What I’m talking about is having to handle and photograph artefacts that are looking for any excuse to start falling apart in your hands.

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The times they are a-changin’

It’s hard to know where to start when thinking about the year we’ve just had, and how to look forward. There’ll be a billion other blog posts talking about how awful it’s been (which it has, for many of us), how our lives have changed, and mourning those we’ve lost.

And for those of us in the UK, we’ve had the double whammy of our government choosing to take us out of a 40-year partnership with our closest neighbours to instead try to go-it alone in some grotesque, xenophobic reminisensce of British Victorian colonialism and exceptionalism.

(There, now you know which side of that fence I’m on 😂)

But, for all the shittiness, there are good things too. And I like to remind myself of things that have gone well. It’s good for the soul.