
M’Shtona Windows
Anxious, nervous, turbulent, stormy, unstable, agitated.
The word “M’shtona” in Moroccan Arabic sums up these mental states, which this ongoing series navigates through glass windows and glue sculptures.
The Future (What Happens After the Ghaith?)
2023 - 70 x 80 cm
This work was created after the first rainfall ("ﺚﻴﻐﻟا") finally fell over Morocco after a long drought. This piece explores eco anxiety through the vision of a dreamlike but poisoned oasis set within a barren land. Mounted on a glass sheet like a microscopic sample, it invites forensic scrutiny of a dystopian future. Blending natural earth from the Haouz region with synthetic materials like foam, plastic, and glue, the work reconstructs nature through artifice, to question the belief that technology alone can rescue us from environmental collapse.
Motions
2023 - 70 x 80 cm
This window tells a story of love in times of crisis. It incorporates the seismograph of the earthquake that devastated the Haouz region, where my studio is located. My work explores inner turmoil, but days after the event, when the earth was still shaking, I felt a rare stillness born from the raw, instinctive force of compassion that connects people in the wake of disasters. At that moment, the rippling motions of love seemed to transcend the ego, lifting us like seismic waves. The color palette, inspired by the Palestinian flag, is a reminder that solidarity is both necessary and deeply fragile in a world marked by rupture.
Pierre qui roule, mer se meurt
(2024) - 70x80cm
Geology-inspired reflections on grounding, bystander guilt and steadfastness.
A visit to the sandstone cliffs of Petra left me with a rare sense of grounding. It came upon me that love and joy, just like minerals, can slowly build up through sedimentation. This sensation vanished when I saw the Dead Sea, knowing that across it lies a place where an oppressive force crushes any attempt at stillness and hope. Using salt from the Dead Sea, this piece navigates the contradictions between personal growth and collective suffering, and humbly honors those who display steadfastness (دﻮﻤﺻ ) in the face of devastation
Lost Dog
2023 - 70 x 80 cm
This work features an X-ray taken after a dog bite that triggered reflections on unsettled familiar bonds and the fragility of trust. The red frame is composed of flyers I created when my dog was stolen, a moment that exposed the uncertainty of relying on strangers in a world rife with ambiguous motives. This echoed a recurring nightmare in which I'm stuck in an ocean storm, unable to tell dolphins from sharks. The visual language used to depict these animal stories is borrowed from prehistorical cave art, emphasizing the primal, instinctive nature of the tension between trust and threat.
Pipol Pleasing
(2024) - 70x80cm
This window features a rigged Tetris game as a depiction of the exhausting and never-ending loop of people-pleasing: a game you will never be able to win, no matter how much you twist and bend to accommodate everyone. The face is inspired by Ethiopian Orthodox iconography to convey pure, unguarded intent. The candy-like palette and free-flowing oil pastel patterns on the frame contrast with the rigid structures of the game, echoing the tension between the spontaneity of childhood and the constraining expectations of adult life.
Ma méduse > Ta méduse
2024 - 70 x 80 cm
This work reflects on longing for community in an era that glorifies the ego. Sparked by an alienating encounter, the piece explores how self-promotion can prevent genuine connection, especially in the art world. A lone car clings to a tiny island, adrift in a storm of social anxiety. Surrounding it, jellyfish lurk and compete in flamboyance, embodying the fragile tension between vulnerability and self performance
Moucha
2023 - 70 x 80 cm
A tale of anxiety and relief, featuring fish and the United Nations.
This piece captures a passage from anxiety to relief, where fish and the United Nations collide. As evil laughters from my a spooky car cartoons caused me a mental breakdown, the doctors I saw told me I urgently needed rest, but I had to keep working. On a diplomatic mission in Djibouti, drained by anxiolytic medicine and disillusioned by endless UN acronyms meant to save the world, I escaped the conference room and raced across the ocean to Moucha Island, still in my suit, and went for a dive. Underwater, surrounded by the slow dance of fish while inhaling oxygen from a bottle, I felt like I was breathing for the first time in months.