Tell us a little bit about yourself and what you do.
I’m a Palestinian visual artist and designer currently based in Amsterdam. My work explores themes of displacement, identity, and belonging, often blending personal narrative with broader political and cultural contexts. I work across painting, installation, and visual communication, using everyday objects, landscapes, and storytelling to reflect on many life complexities. My creative journey began through grassroots art and music scenes in the MENA region, and over time, evolved into a practice focused on visual arts, culminating in recent solo and group exhibitions across the world and Palestine.
Are there any influences that are core to your work?
Yes, my work is deeply influenced by my Palestinian heritage and the lived experience endless. Core influences include the aesthetics of everyday life in the Arab world—especially domestic interiors, ornate design traditions, and visual culture found in public and private spaces. Artists like Naji al-Ali shaped my early political awareness, while my grandmother’s home and stories became emotional and visual anchors in my work. I’m also influenced by post-colonial theory, music, and the shared visual languages across the Global South, which continue to shape how I reflect, archive, and create.
How were you introduced to the mediums that you work with?
It started quite intuitively—back in school, I was always drawing on the last pages of my notebooks. That instinct to express myself visually led me to experiment with painting and eventually graphic design. I didn’t come from an art background, but I was surrounded by visual stimuli—my father’s books, political cartoons, family interiors—which shaped my visual language early on. Later, studying visual communication gave me technical tools, but it was outside academic settings—on floors, in small rooms, with limited materials—where I built my practice. Until today, I still jump between mediums—painting, design, installation, photography—and live and work from all of them. Each one offers a different way to process and communicate what I carry.
Is there a moment you look back on as being formative to your identity as an artist?
To be honest, it’s not just one single moment—it’s every time I finish a piece that feels truly honest or get the chance to exhibit work that resonates with others. Those are the peak moments where something inside shifts—when I feel proud, understood, or connected. Each of those instances reminds me why I do this and helps shape who I am as an artist. It’s a continuous process. The feeling of making something that carries weight, meaning, or emotion—that’s where the most defining growth happens, again and again.
When needed, where do you look for inspiration? How have these sources changed over time?
That’s a great question—I’m in a phase where I actively chase inspiration and try to hold onto it. I collect it everywhere: books stacked all over my apartment, saved Instagram folders, documentaries, old Tumblr archives, random YouTube rabbit holes. I’m constantly screenshotting, bookmarking, or sketching things down. Over time, what’s changed is how I organise and revisit these sources—I’ve become more intentional about saving things that speak to my deeper interests, whether visual, political, or emotional. Inspiration feels like something I live around, not just something I look for.
Your creative output includes a variety of media, how does working with one medium influence the work you do with a different one?
Simply working with one medium always informs the others. Each medium offers its own set of challenges and possibilities that shape my approach. For example, painting often allows me to explore emotions and physicality in a way that digital work or graphic design can’t. Conversely, my graphic design practice helps me think about structure and composition in a more strategic way, which I then bring into my paintings and installations. The cross-pollination between mediums deepens my creative language and allows me to approach ideas from different angles.
You have a long history of collaboration. Does the work you do with others influence what you explore or how you do it in your personal work?
I’ve always naturally collaborated—it’s something I’ve done since my early 20s and even before that, around the cities, the circles, the community I grew up in, creating and making things happen. It’s a way of growing culturally in every sense. These collaborations—whether in art, design, or community projects—always influence my work. They push me to think differently, to explore new ideas, and to approach my work with a shared sense of purpose. The energy and perspectives I gain from working with others shape how I tackle personal projects, adding new layers of meaning and technique.
How does your creative community now compare to your creative community when you were younger?
My creative community keeps growing. I make sure to stay open, allowing it to expand from local to international and back again. As I evolve, I meet people with different hungers and perspectives, and that constant exchange fuels my practice. It’s important for me to keep building new connections that reflect where I am now and where I’m going creatively.
How do you manage tending to the variety of responsibilities in the work you do? How do you mitigate burnout or exhaustion?
It’s not easy, that’s for sure. Balancing everything—studio work, deadlines, projects, life—is constant work. But I always make sure to stay surrounded by inspiring friends and stay in touch with my creative community. Honesty is key—hardcore honesty. I’m not afraid to ask for help when I feel stuck or burnt out, whether it’s saying “I’m not passionate about this right now” or having endless conversations about how to push through. Those connections remind me I’m not alone. Also, I have the ability—and the joy—of jumping between mediums. If I’m sick of graphic design deliverables, I’ll take time off to paint, or travel and shoot photographs. Switching modes keeps the process fresh and helps me reconnect with my creativity.
What do you collect?
I’ve always considered myself a collector—it’s fun and something I’ve done naturally for as long as I can remember. I collect posters, paintings, CDs, vinyl records, and fashion pieces. Even everyday objects like food packaging catch my eye, especially ones with detailed Arabic typography, like a bag of chips, a can, or a cigarette box. I also collect interior objects, from miniatures to full-size chairs. For me, collecting isn’t just about owning—it’s about preserving aesthetic details, memories, and cultural references that feed into my creative process.
Portrait by Ahmad Zaghmouri.
Interviewed by Luca Lotruglio.