Artist Statement

In the presence of violence, I am brought to prayer. As a Muslim, my spirituality is very tied to my making. Like prayer, my practice provides me comfort in a journey towards healing. I spent a long period of my life bedridden with chronic illness. When I am not making art, it brings me back to that state of being: in bed, in pain, and stuck. To create art is to physically move and reclaim my power after the suffering I have faced. 

As a mixed media photographer and visual poet, I look for symbolism within the materials I experiment with, such as Gold leaf’s ties to ancient Egyptian and  devotional art, or embroidery’s ability to represent the resuscitation of a post-colonial identity. I look for reminders of my culture in the places I feel unsafe, inspiriting them as messengers for my anger. Placing myself as the Statue of Liberty, originally designed as an Egyptian woman, or on top of a Sphinx that guards the Stanford Family grave, reclaims my power over the systems that have harmed me. 

American society has taught me to censor my emotions and identities for other people’s comfort. In my art, I am allowed to be the angry monster that Western society has made me to be. It also acts as resistance against the systems of injustice enforcing violence against my people. You cannot ignore my community's oppression when it is framed in front of you. I want you to be uncomfortable witnessing my pain. You owe me your discomfort.