Photographer, Yumna Al-Arashi | @Yumnaaa shares with us a very personal and powerful story of her experience with cannabis farmers in Lebanon and how an industry that’s illegal in the region, uses corruption to thrive on these sacred Lands. To access the full piece on Slow Journal, please visit https://slowfactory.earth/readings/cannabis-farming-in-lebanon/ or head to our Link in Bio 📌
Photographer, Yumna Al-Arashi | @Yumnaaa shares with us a very personal and powerful story of her experience with cannabis farmers in Lebanon and how an industry that’s illegal in the region, uses corruption to thrive on these sacred Lands. To access the full piece on Slow Journal, please visit https://slowfactory.earth/readings/cannabis-farming-in-lebanon/ or head to our Link in Bio 📌
Photographer, Yumna Al-Arashi | @Yumnaaa shares with us a very personal and powerful story of her experience with cannabis farmers in Lebanon and how an industry that’s illegal in the region, uses corruption to thrive on these sacred Lands. To access the full piece on Slow Journal, please visit https://slowfactory.earth/readings/cannabis-farming-in-lebanon/ or head to our Link in Bio 📌
Photographer, Yumna Al-Arashi | @Yumnaaa shares with us a very personal and powerful story of her experience with cannabis farmers in Lebanon and how an industry that’s illegal in the region, uses corruption to thrive on these sacred Lands. To access the full piece on Slow Journal, please visit https://slowfactory.earth/readings/cannabis-farming-in-lebanon/ or head to our Link in Bio 📌
Photographer, Yumna Al-Arashi | @Yumnaaa shares with us a very personal and powerful story of her experience with cannabis farmers in Lebanon and how an industry that’s illegal in the region, uses corruption to thrive on these sacred Lands. To access the full piece on Slow Journal, please visit https://slowfactory.earth/readings/cannabis-farming-in-lebanon/ or head to our Link in Bio 📌
Photographer, Yumna Al-Arashi | @Yumnaaa shares with us a very personal and powerful story of her experience with cannabis farmers in Lebanon and how an industry that’s illegal in the region, uses corruption to thrive on these sacred Lands. To access the full piece on Slow Journal, please visit https://slowfactory.earth/readings/cannabis-farming-in-lebanon/ or head to our Link in Bio 📌
Photographer, Yumna Al-Arashi | @Yumnaaa shares with us a very personal and powerful story of her experience with cannabis farmers in Lebanon and how an industry that’s illegal in the region, uses corruption to thrive on these sacred Lands. To access the full piece on Slow Journal, please visit https://slowfactory.earth/readings/cannabis-farming-in-lebanon/ or head to our Link in Bio 📌
Yumna Al-Arashi (@yumnaaa) is turning her lens on the tears of men from the region. “This body of work was inspired by a desire to watch masculine archetypes in vulnerable states,” says the Yemeni-American photographer, whose thought-provoking images inevitably propel audiences to reflect more deeply on the subject matter. “Through the mode of cinematically inspired visuals, I create a layer of voyeurism to emphasise a shift from public into private, an intimacy that I crave. This series asks us to question what the image of a crying man evokes, and in which contexts we are able to view him.” Head to our website for more. Photography: @yumnaaa Styling: @Seherkhanp Producer: @zayelkenz Grooming: @ssequeiramakeup Fashion Coordinator: @anchthawani Photography Assistant: Jaypee Hardin Fashion Assistant: @ddaylyss Location: @upside.dxb @wawadining
Yumna Al-Arashi (@yumnaaa) is turning her lens on the tears of men from the region. “This body of work was inspired by a desire to watch masculine archetypes in vulnerable states,” says the Yemeni-American photographer, whose thought-provoking images inevitably propel audiences to reflect more deeply on the subject matter. “Through the mode of cinematically inspired visuals, I create a layer of voyeurism to emphasise a shift from public into private, an intimacy that I crave. This series asks us to question what the image of a crying man evokes, and in which contexts we are able to view him.” Head to our website for more. Photography: @yumnaaa Styling: @Seherkhanp Producer: @zayelkenz Grooming: @ssequeiramakeup Fashion Coordinator: @anchthawani Photography Assistant: Jaypee Hardin Fashion Assistant: @ddaylyss Location: @upside.dxb @wawadining
Yumna Al-Arashi (@yumnaaa) is turning her lens on the tears of men from the region. “This body of work was inspired by a desire to watch masculine archetypes in vulnerable states,” says the Yemeni-American photographer, whose thought-provoking images inevitably propel audiences to reflect more deeply on the subject matter. “Through the mode of cinematically inspired visuals, I create a layer of voyeurism to emphasise a shift from public into private, an intimacy that I crave. This series asks us to question what the image of a crying man evokes, and in which contexts we are able to view him.” Head to our website for more. Photography: @yumnaaa Styling: @Seherkhanp Producer: @zayelkenz Grooming: @ssequeiramakeup Fashion Coordinator: @anchthawani Photography Assistant: Jaypee Hardin Fashion Assistant: @ddaylyss Location: @upside.dxb @wawadining
Yumna Al-Arashi (@yumnaaa) is turning her lens on the tears of men from the region. “This body of work was inspired by a desire to watch masculine archetypes in vulnerable states,” says the Yemeni-American photographer, whose thought-provoking images inevitably propel audiences to reflect more deeply on the subject matter. “Through the mode of cinematically inspired visuals, I create a layer of voyeurism to emphasise a shift from public into private, an intimacy that I crave. This series asks us to question what the image of a crying man evokes, and in which contexts we are able to view him.” Head to our website for more. Photography: @yumnaaa Styling: @Seherkhanp Producer: @zayelkenz Grooming: @ssequeiramakeup Fashion Coordinator: @anchthawani Photography Assistant: Jaypee Hardin Fashion Assistant: @ddaylyss Location: @upside.dxb @wawadining
Yumna Al-Arashi (@yumnaaa) is turning her lens on the tears of men from the region. “This body of work was inspired by a desire to watch masculine archetypes in vulnerable states,” says the Yemeni-American photographer, whose thought-provoking images inevitably propel audiences to reflect more deeply on the subject matter. “Through the mode of cinematically inspired visuals, I create a layer of voyeurism to emphasise a shift from public into private, an intimacy that I crave. This series asks us to question what the image of a crying man evokes, and in which contexts we are able to view him.” Head to our website for more. Photography: @yumnaaa Styling: @Seherkhanp Producer: @zayelkenz Grooming: @ssequeiramakeup Fashion Coordinator: @anchthawani Photography Assistant: Jaypee Hardin Fashion Assistant: @ddaylyss Location: @upside.dxb @wawadining
Yumna Al-Arashi (@yumnaaa) is turning her lens on the tears of men from the region. “This body of work was inspired by a desire to watch masculine archetypes in vulnerable states,” says the Yemeni-American photographer, whose thought-provoking images inevitably propel audiences to reflect more deeply on the subject matter. “Through the mode of cinematically inspired visuals, I create a layer of voyeurism to emphasise a shift from public into private, an intimacy that I crave. This series asks us to question what the image of a crying man evokes, and in which contexts we are able to view him.” Head to our website for more. Photography: @yumnaaa Styling: @Seherkhanp Producer: @zayelkenz Grooming: @ssequeiramakeup Fashion Coordinator: @anchthawani Photography Assistant: Jaypee Hardin Fashion Assistant: @ddaylyss Location: @upside.dxb @wawadining
Yumna Al-Arashi (@yumnaaa) is turning her lens on the tears of men from the region. “This body of work was inspired by a desire to watch masculine archetypes in vulnerable states,” says the Yemeni-American photographer, whose thought-provoking images inevitably propel audiences to reflect more deeply on the subject matter. “Through the mode of cinematically inspired visuals, I create a layer of voyeurism to emphasise a shift from public into private, an intimacy that I crave. This series asks us to question what the image of a crying man evokes, and in which contexts we are able to view him.” Head to our website for more. Photography: @yumnaaa Styling: @Seherkhanp Producer: @zayelkenz Grooming: @ssequeiramakeup Fashion Coordinator: @anchthawani Photography Assistant: Jaypee Hardin Fashion Assistant: @ddaylyss Location: @upside.dxb @wawadining
Yumna Al-Arashi (@yumnaaa) is turning her lens on the tears of men from the region. “This body of work was inspired by a desire to watch masculine archetypes in vulnerable states,” says the Yemeni-American photographer, whose thought-provoking images inevitably propel audiences to reflect more deeply on the subject matter. “Through the mode of cinematically inspired visuals, I create a layer of voyeurism to emphasise a shift from public into private, an intimacy that I crave. This series asks us to question what the image of a crying man evokes, and in which contexts we are able to view him.” Head to our website for more. Photography: @yumnaaa Styling: @Seherkhanp Producer: @zayelkenz Grooming: @ssequeiramakeup Fashion Coordinator: @anchthawani Photography Assistant: Jaypee Hardin Fashion Assistant: @ddaylyss Location: @upside.dxb @wawadining
I’ve been making photographs since I was a teenager. For me, photography was always a tool for communicating with the people, finding a community, creating a visual accompaniment to things we all have felt but don’t always have words for. I’m so grateful for the amount of support so many have shared over all of these years. I’ve never really fit into one category, never felt safe in the art world, never found a truly supportive community in it. I’ve been shamed so many times for selling my work directly to people at prices many can afford. I hardly get invited to show my work in many institutional spaces. If it wasn’t for making images which speak to us all and being able to share that work directly with my audience, I’d never have survived as an independent artist for this long. As times get stranger, I find myself questioning where I want to place myself as an artist. Who do I want to be involved with? How do I want my work to be seen and who ultimately has access to it? Does my work become more valuable because it is hiding in a large collection? Or because it is in the homes of many people who can sit with it, speak about it, and share it with their friends and family every day? Do I feel comfortable with the economies of art and art institutions? Do my values and dreams for a future align with the people and spaces I work in? How can I build a future without replicating problematic past models? There are so, so many questions to be asked in these moments. Prints from work I have created over the last decade are for sale for just a few more days. The revenue from selling these prints is what keeps me going every day, allows me to keep making my work, allows me the space to think critically about the ways it is seen. This sale is an honoring of the ways in which I’ve been able to make images, an offering to my community to find an opportunity to support and honor the artists who shape your daily visions. This is the final chance to purchase work from the early days of my practice. It’s an effort to make space for a new chapter I’ve been developing and can’t wait to share. Thank you all forever ♾️ Shop link in bio 🫀
I’ve been making photographs since I was a teenager. For me, photography was always a tool for communicating with the people, finding a community, creating a visual accompaniment to things we all have felt but don’t always have words for. I’m so grateful for the amount of support so many have shared over all of these years. I’ve never really fit into one category, never felt safe in the art world, never found a truly supportive community in it. I’ve been shamed so many times for selling my work directly to people at prices many can afford. I hardly get invited to show my work in many institutional spaces. If it wasn’t for making images which speak to us all and being able to share that work directly with my audience, I’d never have survived as an independent artist for this long. As times get stranger, I find myself questioning where I want to place myself as an artist. Who do I want to be involved with? How do I want my work to be seen and who ultimately has access to it? Does my work become more valuable because it is hiding in a large collection? Or because it is in the homes of many people who can sit with it, speak about it, and share it with their friends and family every day? Do I feel comfortable with the economies of art and art institutions? Do my values and dreams for a future align with the people and spaces I work in? How can I build a future without replicating problematic past models? There are so, so many questions to be asked in these moments. Prints from work I have created over the last decade are for sale for just a few more days. The revenue from selling these prints is what keeps me going every day, allows me to keep making my work, allows me the space to think critically about the ways it is seen. This sale is an honoring of the ways in which I’ve been able to make images, an offering to my community to find an opportunity to support and honor the artists who shape your daily visions. This is the final chance to purchase work from the early days of my practice. It’s an effort to make space for a new chapter I’ve been developing and can’t wait to share. Thank you all forever ♾️ Shop link in bio 🫀
I’ve been making photographs since I was a teenager. For me, photography was always a tool for communicating with the people, finding a community, creating a visual accompaniment to things we all have felt but don’t always have words for. I’m so grateful for the amount of support so many have shared over all of these years. I’ve never really fit into one category, never felt safe in the art world, never found a truly supportive community in it. I’ve been shamed so many times for selling my work directly to people at prices many can afford. I hardly get invited to show my work in many institutional spaces. If it wasn’t for making images which speak to us all and being able to share that work directly with my audience, I’d never have survived as an independent artist for this long. As times get stranger, I find myself questioning where I want to place myself as an artist. Who do I want to be involved with? How do I want my work to be seen and who ultimately has access to it? Does my work become more valuable because it is hiding in a large collection? Or because it is in the homes of many people who can sit with it, speak about it, and share it with their friends and family every day? Do I feel comfortable with the economies of art and art institutions? Do my values and dreams for a future align with the people and spaces I work in? How can I build a future without replicating problematic past models? There are so, so many questions to be asked in these moments. Prints from work I have created over the last decade are for sale for just a few more days. The revenue from selling these prints is what keeps me going every day, allows me to keep making my work, allows me the space to think critically about the ways it is seen. This sale is an honoring of the ways in which I’ve been able to make images, an offering to my community to find an opportunity to support and honor the artists who shape your daily visions. This is the final chance to purchase work from the early days of my practice. It’s an effort to make space for a new chapter I’ve been developing and can’t wait to share. Thank you all forever ♾️ Shop link in bio 🫀
I’ve been making photographs since I was a teenager. For me, photography was always a tool for communicating with the people, finding a community, creating a visual accompaniment to things we all have felt but don’t always have words for. I’m so grateful for the amount of support so many have shared over all of these years. I’ve never really fit into one category, never felt safe in the art world, never found a truly supportive community in it. I’ve been shamed so many times for selling my work directly to people at prices many can afford. I hardly get invited to show my work in many institutional spaces. If it wasn’t for making images which speak to us all and being able to share that work directly with my audience, I’d never have survived as an independent artist for this long. As times get stranger, I find myself questioning where I want to place myself as an artist. Who do I want to be involved with? How do I want my work to be seen and who ultimately has access to it? Does my work become more valuable because it is hiding in a large collection? Or because it is in the homes of many people who can sit with it, speak about it, and share it with their friends and family every day? Do I feel comfortable with the economies of art and art institutions? Do my values and dreams for a future align with the people and spaces I work in? How can I build a future without replicating problematic past models? There are so, so many questions to be asked in these moments. Prints from work I have created over the last decade are for sale for just a few more days. The revenue from selling these prints is what keeps me going every day, allows me to keep making my work, allows me the space to think critically about the ways it is seen. This sale is an honoring of the ways in which I’ve been able to make images, an offering to my community to find an opportunity to support and honor the artists who shape your daily visions. This is the final chance to purchase work from the early days of my practice. It’s an effort to make space for a new chapter I’ve been developing and can’t wait to share. Thank you all forever ♾️ Shop link in bio 🫀
I’ve been making photographs since I was a teenager. For me, photography was always a tool for communicating with the people, finding a community, creating a visual accompaniment to things we all have felt but don’t always have words for. I’m so grateful for the amount of support so many have shared over all of these years. I’ve never really fit into one category, never felt safe in the art world, never found a truly supportive community in it. I’ve been shamed so many times for selling my work directly to people at prices many can afford. I hardly get invited to show my work in many institutional spaces. If it wasn’t for making images which speak to us all and being able to share that work directly with my audience, I’d never have survived as an independent artist for this long. As times get stranger, I find myself questioning where I want to place myself as an artist. Who do I want to be involved with? How do I want my work to be seen and who ultimately has access to it? Does my work become more valuable because it is hiding in a large collection? Or because it is in the homes of many people who can sit with it, speak about it, and share it with their friends and family every day? Do I feel comfortable with the economies of art and art institutions? Do my values and dreams for a future align with the people and spaces I work in? How can I build a future without replicating problematic past models? There are so, so many questions to be asked in these moments. Prints from work I have created over the last decade are for sale for just a few more days. The revenue from selling these prints is what keeps me going every day, allows me to keep making my work, allows me the space to think critically about the ways it is seen. This sale is an honoring of the ways in which I’ve been able to make images, an offering to my community to find an opportunity to support and honor the artists who shape your daily visions. This is the final chance to purchase work from the early days of my practice. It’s an effort to make space for a new chapter I’ve been developing and can’t wait to share. Thank you all forever ♾️ Shop link in bio 🫀
I’ve been making photographs since I was a teenager. For me, photography was always a tool for communicating with the people, finding a community, creating a visual accompaniment to things we all have felt but don’t always have words for. I’m so grateful for the amount of support so many have shared over all of these years. I’ve never really fit into one category, never felt safe in the art world, never found a truly supportive community in it. I’ve been shamed so many times for selling my work directly to people at prices many can afford. I hardly get invited to show my work in many institutional spaces. If it wasn’t for making images which speak to us all and being able to share that work directly with my audience, I’d never have survived as an independent artist for this long. As times get stranger, I find myself questioning where I want to place myself as an artist. Who do I want to be involved with? How do I want my work to be seen and who ultimately has access to it? Does my work become more valuable because it is hiding in a large collection? Or because it is in the homes of many people who can sit with it, speak about it, and share it with their friends and family every day? Do I feel comfortable with the economies of art and art institutions? Do my values and dreams for a future align with the people and spaces I work in? How can I build a future without replicating problematic past models? There are so, so many questions to be asked in these moments. Prints from work I have created over the last decade are for sale for just a few more days. The revenue from selling these prints is what keeps me going every day, allows me to keep making my work, allows me the space to think critically about the ways it is seen. This sale is an honoring of the ways in which I’ve been able to make images, an offering to my community to find an opportunity to support and honor the artists who shape your daily visions. This is the final chance to purchase work from the early days of my practice. It’s an effort to make space for a new chapter I’ve been developing and can’t wait to share. Thank you all forever ♾️ Shop link in bio 🫀
I’ve been making photographs since I was a teenager. For me, photography was always a tool for communicating with the people, finding a community, creating a visual accompaniment to things we all have felt but don’t always have words for. I’m so grateful for the amount of support so many have shared over all of these years. I’ve never really fit into one category, never felt safe in the art world, never found a truly supportive community in it. I’ve been shamed so many times for selling my work directly to people at prices many can afford. I hardly get invited to show my work in many institutional spaces. If it wasn’t for making images which speak to us all and being able to share that work directly with my audience, I’d never have survived as an independent artist for this long. As times get stranger, I find myself questioning where I want to place myself as an artist. Who do I want to be involved with? How do I want my work to be seen and who ultimately has access to it? Does my work become more valuable because it is hiding in a large collection? Or because it is in the homes of many people who can sit with it, speak about it, and share it with their friends and family every day? Do I feel comfortable with the economies of art and art institutions? Do my values and dreams for a future align with the people and spaces I work in? How can I build a future without replicating problematic past models? There are so, so many questions to be asked in these moments. Prints from work I have created over the last decade are for sale for just a few more days. The revenue from selling these prints is what keeps me going every day, allows me to keep making my work, allows me the space to think critically about the ways it is seen. This sale is an honoring of the ways in which I’ve been able to make images, an offering to my community to find an opportunity to support and honor the artists who shape your daily visions. This is the final chance to purchase work from the early days of my practice. It’s an effort to make space for a new chapter I’ve been developing and can’t wait to share. Thank you all forever ♾️ Shop link in bio 🫀
I’ve been making photographs since I was a teenager. For me, photography was always a tool for communicating with the people, finding a community, creating a visual accompaniment to things we all have felt but don’t always have words for. I’m so grateful for the amount of support so many have shared over all of these years. I’ve never really fit into one category, never felt safe in the art world, never found a truly supportive community in it. I’ve been shamed so many times for selling my work directly to people at prices many can afford. I hardly get invited to show my work in many institutional spaces. If it wasn’t for making images which speak to us all and being able to share that work directly with my audience, I’d never have survived as an independent artist for this long. As times get stranger, I find myself questioning where I want to place myself as an artist. Who do I want to be involved with? How do I want my work to be seen and who ultimately has access to it? Does my work become more valuable because it is hiding in a large collection? Or because it is in the homes of many people who can sit with it, speak about it, and share it with their friends and family every day? Do I feel comfortable with the economies of art and art institutions? Do my values and dreams for a future align with the people and spaces I work in? How can I build a future without replicating problematic past models? There are so, so many questions to be asked in these moments. Prints from work I have created over the last decade are for sale for just a few more days. The revenue from selling these prints is what keeps me going every day, allows me to keep making my work, allows me the space to think critically about the ways it is seen. This sale is an honoring of the ways in which I’ve been able to make images, an offering to my community to find an opportunity to support and honor the artists who shape your daily visions. This is the final chance to purchase work from the early days of my practice. It’s an effort to make space for a new chapter I’ve been developing and can’t wait to share. Thank you all forever ♾️ Shop link in bio 🫀
heard you wanted prints – shop open for a few days only – link in bio ✌️
