Creativity, Faith, and Challenging Expectations - In conversation with Mustafa Mirza
Toronto-based artist Mustafa offers a unique perspective on blending his Muslim identity with his creative pursuits. Balancing faith with artistry, Mustafa delves into how societal expectations and personal beliefs influence his work. He shares insights on navigating these intersections and the role his background plays in shaping his art.
WURUUD: How did you discover your passion for art and creativity?
Mustafa: My mom went to art school in Lahore, Pakistan. We joke about it, but I was surrounded by artists from a very early age. As a kid, I was always very imaginative even before I could walk.
Growing up, I wanted to be a cartoonist; that was my dream. Skateboarding was the one thing that changed my entire trajectory. It introduced me to different art forms, photography, music, and fashion. Skateboarding itself is an art form with many styles, and it led me to explore creativity from a new perspective. Creating has always been second nature to me, something I don’t actively think about.
I’m fortunate that my mom fostered my creativity. She supported me, even when she might not fully understand my interests. She’d repost my skate videos on Facebook, and I used to sneak skateboarding magazines from school, tearing out pages to decorate my walls. Finding encouragement in a Muslim household can be challenging, so I consider myself very lucky.
Have you faced challenges in navigating your identity as a creative and Muslim?
As I’ve grown older, I’ve become more conscious of the intersection of my faith and creativity. My relationship with Islam remains personal and essential, but I now consider how my creative works might be perceived with my Muslim name. Perception matters, and it’s something that’s started to occupy my mind more than before.
Do you see your Muslim identity and creativity as separate?
I think they are very similar in nature; they are both romantic and personal relationships that I hold near and dear. They don't have to be separate, but they can seem to be on opposite spectrums. You can make art that is within the realms of your faith, but it’s challenging to understand where to draw the line and how that relationship can coexist.
Beautiful things come from the intersection of Islam and art and our interactions with the environment. The Quran is very poetic, and mosques are filled with beauty, yet many don’t recognize it. The patriarchy plays a huge role, as art and self-expression are often seen as feminine, and male-dominated Muslim cultures may not highlight these aspects. This influences the perception of art and faith.
Do you see yourself challenging the patriarchy through your art and relationships?
That’s the goal, right? If you’re lucky enough to know better and grow against the grain, that’s part of it. I don’t necessarily think I’m actively pushing it forward, or if I am, I’m not fully aware of it. Maybe in the future, I can look back and see the impact. By honoring both my Muslim and creative sides and advocating for other Muslim creatives in whatever their field is, and embrace that, I do think that it pushes it forward.
How has judgment or criticism for not conforming to societal norms shaped your perspective?
In terms of my community, specifically the Desi community, I was always labeled as either whitewashed or it was a question about my sexuality because it didn't follow the traditional idea of what it means to be a man or what most guys are doing. But it's one of those things where you just have to accept it. Like, what are you going to do?
Eventually, things change because now all the things that I was being teased for, everyone's doing. I think it's a very slippery slope, but often when you're going upstream while everyone's going downstream, you're challenging the status quo, and you're kind of doing the right thing. I think that's creative. It's a fine line, but there is truth in going against the grain; you're kind of on the right track.
How has self-identifying as a creative impacted you?
Calling myself a creative can feel serious but also trivial. Oftentimes, using that title puts too much importance on yourself. I feel like what it has turned into is just a way to occupy certain rooms. Even being surrounded by artists, it's very hard to be in a room where people are constantly trying to sell themselves, and then in turn, you start to do the same. But I'm very wary of how I approach being a creative.
And honestly, everyone is a creative, to some degree. Writing code is creating. Making food is creative; it's all an art. People's jobs, how people converse with one another, there's an art to everything. I strongly believe in curating everything that's in your power because that's all we have; that's truly everything. So everyone has that to some degree."
In your creative process, how do you balance letting ideas flow naturally and setting goals?
I always emphasize the process more than the piece itself because, yes, the piece is dope, but the process that it took me to get there leads to so many realizations and so much revealing. This process is sacred. That's why the subconscious is something I'm a huge advocate of when I talk about making art. I also don't think people give enough credit to their subconscious. Have you ever thought about why you make what you make? There's a reason for everything.
I do wonder, though, how much of that process is impacted now that I am working with intention. Where I think to myself, 'I need to make a piece, so I'm going to make this piece.' Whereas that other process of, like, when it happens, it happens, very much leads to these grandiose discoveries. I don't know if it strips that or interferes with that in any way. It's a little too early to tell.
Another aspect of art that I believe I live and die by is something I heard in a Stanley Cooper interview. He mentioned that once he makes a film and releases it, it's no longer his; it belongs to the public. I one thousand percent agree with that perspective. When I make a piece and let’s say I combine pastel blue with pastel pink because it reminds me of my childhood or include The Simpsons because I loved it growing up, I'm curating what those elements mean to me. But, someone else with a completely different perspective will perceive it entirely differently and assign a whole different meaning.
How do you determine when a piece of art is complete?
I have no problem sitting with what I make. It's a very slow process, and with some pieces, I just know it's done because it looks good. But, with other pieces, when there's so much happening on the page, it's harder to determine when it's done because I think, is there more? Oftentimes, I play around because there are many things I consider when it comes to those pieces. Shape is a huge factor – how everything is arranged and what shape it takes, both aesthetically and in terms of arrangement.
What legacy do you hope to leave?
I hope that my art somehow influences other people, exploring the intersections of religion and creativity. If another version of myself were to see what I've done and think, 'Damn, I want to do that,' or feel inspired, that would be immeasurable. The idea that people can create something that touches others and changes them is powerful. But, in the physical sense, I'm not sure if I care to leave that kind of legacy.
Our existence alone is nothing short of a miracle. When you really think about how humans are made, everything is derived from something else, and that is so beautiful. It's like blending colors. As much as creating is an individual experience, it's also a shared one. That interconnectedness of our experiences makes it all the more meaningful.
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