For me, art is not decoration, but a different way of seeing the world. I am a Kurdish-Syrian artist, born in 1986 in Qamishli, and have lived in Germany since 2018, after the war in Syria forced me to flee. My work begins where the visible is no longer enough and something unspeakable seeks a form.

In the studio, I encounter the painting like a game that is very serious. I experiment, destroy, discard, and rebuild until the painting itself surprises me. Only when a work shakes me inwardly is it allowed to step out into the world. For me, form is not an ornament but a trigger – like an encounter with an unknown being: strange, magnetic, inescapable.

I am not interested in explaining a clear message. A painting should not instruct the viewer but pull them into an experience where seeing and feeling merge. When someone stands before my work, I hope for a slight inner vertigo – the feeling of being changed without knowing exactly why.

True art does not seek effect, but depth. It works not only on quick emotion but on memories, hidden images, and unconscious spaces. In this way, it can trigger a quiet, slow change: an invisible shift in thinking and in how one views the world – a subtle but irreversible change in perception.