Prominent journalist Ahmed Bahaaeddin, after seeing the paintings of his artist friend Ihab Shaker in an exhibition held in 1988, wrote in his daily column in Al-Ahram : "These paintings are coming from deep inside Ihab Shaker in a very simple and spontaneous way... whether he is painting dervishes, animals, humans, or... reflecting abstract meanings.” Bahaaeddin added that Ihab's “paintings can be hung in a museum and be an addition to its value. Or be hung in a house so they spread joy, life and a smile in that place.” Talking about Ihab's artistic world truly sparks joy and happiness for me, because it is a talk about an Egyptian artist, with all his great love and genuine identity. He was an artist who had drawn, painted, created, imagined adventures, and flown with us -- via his paintings, cartoons, and children's books -- for many years. I have also had the wonderful opportunity to witness his eagerness to be in touch and communicate with the new generations, and to embrace budding talents and help them grow. Ihab was born in August 1933. His graduation project, as described in an article by the well-known Egyptian artist and illustrator Mohieddin El-Labbad, was about the circus and its tours all over Egypt as part of the various moulid festivities. The lights of those moulids occupied Ihab in his art. Living among Egyptians all over Egypt and later in the lights of the very City of Light -- Paris -- Ihab's talents, ambitions and creative approaches were shaped. El-Labbad wrote of Ihab that although he rarely left his studio, as he could be away from his palette and his brush only for a short time, he had exhibitions in Egypt and abroad. He sometimes responded the call of drawing cartoons and children's book illustrations, but always stayed active and busy to do more. This has been his life over the last 60 years. “He doesn't fear a white page; he always has something to draw and to say,” El-Labbad wrote. In Ihab's world I met his “created” characters: Shamsa, Dana, Aragoz, Forqo' Loz, Darwish, TV Generation, Hannouna, and Leon. I cannot talk about children's books in his life without mentioning Samira Shafik, his partner in life and creativity, and their journey together. It was April 1981 -- our first meeting in his office at Sabah El-Kheir weekly magazine. For me it was a great and unforgettable pleasure. From that day on our meetings were repeated, our friendship lasted, and our talks continued. One of the things I realised early on was that, although our births were separated by more than 20 years, Ihab was born in August -- like me. He is a Leo too. And we both are Roosters, according to the Chinese horoscope. Ihab later described me as the twin of his youth and sometimes called me his “Leo and Rooster friend.” I have seen and known Ihab and I have had such a great time with him over the years, which I recall vividly until this moment. I can see him as we were chatting and talking about a meaning which lacks a word to describe it or a form to embody it. I see him, too, as we were discussing the centuries-crossing genius of the Egyptian character, the transparency of the soul among creative people, and the clarity of vision among Sufis. He is next to me, as we were talking about roaming without boundaries and without bonds, among all those who have chosen the road and the journey as their life and lifestyle. Together, we were trying to figure out how a human being can encounter those people, interact with them and their creativity and their genius, letting in that light and warmth within us and around us. As Ihab was talking to me about the significance of details in our life, he taught me that art, literature, and life themselves are details. He mentioned that those details are a joy, a flavour, a meaning, a dream chasing you and a memory embracing you and allowing you to feel at home. And because the details may differ and are not often occurring, the details of a certain moment -- like the moment itself -- do not repeat themselves; so we have to enjoy them till the end. On another day, as I was trying to discern the meanings of seeing a butterfly in our life, Ihab after staring at me for a while, asked me to pay attention to the pattern of flying -- how it flies in circular patterns. And how, by following these circles, one after the other, we may move from one place to another. As Ihab was advising and mentoring me, he told me to keep the child within alive and protected from the pressures of passing years. Your childhood is your curiosity, your desire to discover, to ask questions and be joyful with the answers. Childhood is also to run into nature and to be embraced by people. It is the continuous search for the warmth of the meeting and the assurance of existence. I saw Ihab when we were talking about music, its echoes in our life, and its role in liberating our imagination, freeing our creativity and staying away from all that can captivate our souls and paralyse our flight. And I can hear him now repeating: “You have to look to see; and if you do not see, you have to look again to see what you haven't seen before.” Rest in peace, Ihab Shaker.
