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Anger, confusion, and conflict - these are the things I explore through art. Even though my work is geared towards my own experiences, I hope that people can find themselves and their troubles through my art.
Art making, for me, has two stages. In the first stage, I work impulsively. I put no thought into my actions and disregard all conceptions around how media and materials are typically used. Several of my ideas and processes come from this kind of experimentation. In the second stage, I use my newfound processes to explore my own thoughts. I am a kid stuck between two groups of peoples who think, work, and believe differently. Growing up as a Lebanese kid in the bleached suburbia of Richmond, Virginia, I have always been unsure of myself. For most people, growing up consists of observing society’s expectations and living up to them. In my case, I've observed the Arab expectation and the American expectation, which, in many ways, are contradictory. My art is a self-settling exploration of what is truly right or wrong; a coping device for the uncertainty that comes with living up to my beliefs in a society that can believe the opposite; and an answer to my restlessness, which tells me that there is no right or wrong, only a subjective, uncomfortable mix. |
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Every morning I do the same thing. I wake up, and I eat eggs. The bright pure light of the morning shines into the kitchen, making the white walls and white table glow. In my drowsy eyes, the bright scene takes on a heavy haze.
It begins with the egg. I may try to eat it sunny side up, but half-awake me will not have anything to do with gooey whites. They’re a bit too much to handle for someone who still needs to remember how to function for the day. So I cook the egg over-easy. And I eat it with pita bread, because pita bread serves as an edible napkin. It is a necessity for runny yolks (this is a lesson I learned after many years of egg eating). My breakfast time is calming to me. It’s hard to find these little moments during the day, where I can sit back and only hear the leaves rustling on the trees or maybe just myself chewing – where I don’t think about anything but performing my egg routine. I’m thankful for two things. One, these brief and serene moments. And two? Eggs. |
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