Alright – so today we’ve got the honor of introducing you to Faria Raji. We think you’ll enjoy our conversation, we’ve shared it below.

Faria, looking forward to hearing all of your stories today. Can you talk to us about how you learned to do what you do?

That would be the combination of three things, what I was visually exposed to growing up in Europe and traveling to south of France, following my deep personal inclinations, and what I learned from my three art mentors. My first mentor, art director and graphic designer Roland Young, taught me conceptual thinking, art direction, and the importance of great craft. My second mentor, James Baes, who had been the French Lui magazine erotica photographer, taught me about color, styling, attention to detail, and how to create tension, which he was a master at. My third mentor, fashion photographer Philip Dixon, taught me techniques that he had developed over the years that he hadn’t shared with anyone else, but more importantly, he taught me about gratitude, patience, and internal calmness. All important factors to practice in order to connect to the universe, and it’s serendipitous ways when you’re creating art.

Whenever I think about how everything that I’ve learned has come together, it always reminds me of the movie, “The Good, The Bad, and the Ugly” that I often watched as a kid. The scene when Tuco (played by Eli Walsh) assembles the best parts of several revolvers to create his own super revolver has always resonated with my journey as an artist. Because how I learned my craft is the right combination of all the elements I mentioned above.

As always, we appreciate you sharing your insights and we’ve got a few more questions for you, but before we get to all of that can you take a minute to introduce yourself and give our readers some of your back background and context?

What’s a lesson you had to unlearn and what’s the backstory?

I had to unlearn that there are rules in art, I mean there are rules in commercial art but none in fine-art. One day when I was an art student I brought to class one of my throwaway drawings that I had crumbled up, then flattened by hand, and taped to an illustration board. On the back of the board, I had the title How Sweet It Is Walking on Grass. When the teacher asked me about it, I told him the truth. I said it was an enhancement on a throwaway drawing. When he asked what the title meant, I said it’s whatever he wanted it to mean. He paused for a bit; all the students in class started giggling, but then the teacher said “I accept it; you understand what art is about”.

There is a parallel to that in the food and wine industries. If you’re sitting at an expensive restaurant in the Côte d’Azur on the French Riviera, you order yourself a plate of Creuse oysters and the sommelier says that oysters always go well with a bottle of Muscadet wine, you have the freedom to ignore the rules and order a slightly chilled bottle of Saint Amour. Simply because you enjoy the combination better. Suddenly, the rulebook of the sommelier is thrown out the window, and you get to experience life on your own terms. Art, just like food and wine, happens inside of us; nobody can tell you to feel differently for a sculpture or a painting that you’ve fallen in love with. No gallery owner, art critic, mentor, teacher, or even the artist himself or herself can do that. Being an artist is about pure freedom, or, as Steve Jobs put it, it’s about being a pirate and not about joining the navy.

Let’s talk about resilience next – do you have a story you can share with us?

In order to have invincible resilience, you have to follow your interests like a tiger that doesn’t want its lunch to escape from its jaws. To do that, you have to look at what you’re connected deeply to internally, and go after it with vengeance. That’s without the shame, guilt, doubt, or judgmental attitude that might be put on you by people, culture, religion, or anything of that sort. You also have to protect your interests like a candle because it’s a very delicate thing. The candle can easily be blown out by the outside voices (and also by your own internal voice) if you ever doubt yourself and listen to people who don’t have your best interest at heart. I think the late Argentinian poet Antonio Porchia said it best when he said “They will say you’re always on the wrong road, if it’s your own”.

Contact Info:

• Website: www.fariaraji.com
• Instagram: @fariaraji