Durags Above the Sea: A Meditation at the Creator’s currents

When The Met asked, “How does nature move you?” it sparked something in me. I began reflecting on Caspar David Friedrich’s (Wanderer Above the Sea of Fog), a painting I was never particularly drawn to before. In fact, I was not very familiar with Friedrich’s work at all until The Met’s Instagram page showcased a selection of his paintings. Out of all the pieces they shared, this one caught my eye. There was something about the way the figure stood still, surrounded by vastness, that felt deeply spiritual. It was a moment of surrender, of silent conversation with God. The humility, the awe, the mystery. That stayed with me. That feeling stayed with me.

Nature has always been a reminder to me that while we are not the center of the universe, we are still a part of something sacred. The same Creator who shaped the oceans, skies, and mountains also shaped us. Everything in nature is created with intention. The rising and setting of the sun, the cycles of the moon, the flow of rivers, the balance of ecosystems,all of it testifies to God’s existence and perfection. Rain symbolizes mercy, reviving barren land just as love and guidance revive hearts. The changing seasons reflect the cycles of life, reminding us of the temporary nature of this world and the permanence of the hereafter. When I reflect on nature, I feel small, yet I also feel seen. I am reminded that even in my imperfection, I am part of something divine.

This photo was my response to that reflection. I wanted to honor Friedrich’s original work while reimagining it through my own medium, durag art. It is part of a growing photo series that brings elements of fine art into conversation with Black culture, not by imitation, but through reverence and reinterpretation.

In place of the mountaintop, I set the scene at the edge of the sea. The muse in the photo, my little brother, stands calmly, surrounded by movement and power, just as Friedrich’s wanderer did. I styled the entire look, from the durag to the clothing, sketching the vision before bringing it to life. The durag, a custom piece I designed, features an ombré tail flowing from white to soft blue to deep blue. Those three colors were intentional. They represent the currents of the ocean, a visual reminder of the intricacy of God’s creation. The way currents move is like memory itself. A wave near your feet could have been set in motion by a gust of wind from miles away. The smallest shift in one place can create ripples that travel great distances. The ocean carries history within it. It speaks of movement, connection, and the unseen forces that shape our experiences.

Although the final image looks like something shot in a grand setting, I actually created it in my living room. I used a simple printed backdrop I found on Amazon and laid black fabric on the ground to build the scene. After the shoot, I brought the image into Photoshop, adding a rock beneath my muse’s feet to complete the vision. It was all about using what I had and trusting the process. Art is not about having the biggest production or the most expensive resources. It is about vision, creativity, and the willingness to create with what is available to you.

That understanding has shaped my entire approach to durag art. My mission is to elevate the durag beyond what people assume it to be. It is more than a piece of fabric tied around the head. It is culture, history, identity, and now, fine art. I want to take it into spaces where it has never been fully recognized, where it has been overlooked or dismissed. I want to show that it belongs in conversations about artistry and meaning, that it holds weight in the world of storytelling and symbolism.

Just as nature reminds us of something greater than ourselves, art does too. And just as we recognize that perfection belongs to the Creator alone, we should also embrace that imperfection is part of our design. As humans, we will never be perfect because we were never meant to be. That realization should free us, not hold us back. It should push us to create, to speak, to express, and to bring forth the visions that live within us. Just as I used what I had on hand instead of waiting for the “perfect” resources, we should all remember that art itself is not about perfection. It is about presence. It is about capturing something real.

This project is also about breaking the illusion that creativity requires excess. Too often, people wait for the perfect moment, the perfect tools, or the perfect environment to create. But art is not about waiting. It is about doing. The most impactful works often come from resourcefulness. When I set up this shoot, I did not have a grand studio or a limitless budget. I had a printed backdrop from Amazon, black fabric, my vision, and my brother’s presence. That was enough. Through simple means, I was able to create something that felt vast and cinematic, something that held meaning beyond its setting.

That is a lesson I hope others take from this. Your creativity is not defined by what you lack, but by what you make of what you have. The same way nature moves with divine precision, with every wave and gust of wind playing its role, we are also designed with intention. We were not meant to be flawless. We were meant to be expressive, to leave traces of ourselves in what we create. The idea that imperfection is part of our design should not discourage us, but liberate us. It should remind us that the act of creating is sacred in itself.

This is only the beginning. There are more images to come, more reinterpretations, more conversations to be had about what we define as art and who gets to be part of those definitions. I am excited to push these ideas further, to continue blending classical influences with cultural narratives that have not always been given their rightful place in the art world. This is not just about making something beautiful. It is about shifting the way we see and honor the stories embedded in our everyday lives.

So as I move forward with this series, I invite you to reflect on what moves you. What have you always wanted to create but held back from because it did not seem perfect enough? What stories are waiting to be told through your hands, your vision, your voice? Whatever it is, start where you are. Use what you have. And trust that the process, however imperfect, is exactly as it is meant to be.

This is just the beginning of my series. Each image will explore new ways to place durag art in visual conversation with classical works. Each one will ask the same question in a different way. Where do we fit in this vast, sacred world?

“Nature reminds me that I’m not the center, but I’m still part of something divine. Perfectly imperfect.”

— Khalida Ali