My childhood is central to my practice. I grew up in a library and my playground appears when the tide is low: a vastness of wet sand near a limestone cliff. With my siblings and cousins, I made a world composed of folktales and animated cartoons. The old city - demolished in the 1950s and 1960s - was the only origin story we heard from my father, and the 1987 Intifadha and 1990 Gulf War were both tied to my core memory.
These emotional, political and urban forces led me to think of the landscape surrounding our city as an inseparable resource to our faculty of thinking. Why do we settle? What does it mean to live between the desert and the sea? What does it mean to live in a resting place for bedouins, seafarers, poets and migratory birds? Is our reasoning capacity ruled by solar or lunar systems; is it the burning sun, or the moon that controls our salty waters? How long do we need to rest in a place until we are considered settlers?
My interdisciplinary site-specific practice involves etymological and mythological contemplation through immediate and improvised methods such as raw footage, performance and watercolour. I look for nodes of resistance and decay in the contemporary systems built in the last few centuries and I make imaginary modes of living and moving. Unable to attain the fleeting present, I try to collect cocoons I deem to hold in the future.