درب الأمل

I make art the way one remembers a dream: slowly, through fragments, textures, and echoes. My practice

lives at the intersection of the intimate and the ancestral, drawing inspirations from my Moroccan

heritage, oral histories, and the silent language of cloth and thread. I move between mediums: textile,

poetry, music, and writing, following the materials that speak back to me. Each work is an offering, a

question, a fragment of a larger memory I am still piecing together.

I am drawn to stories that live in the margins, the ones passed down in kitchens, stitched into garments,

carried in chants. My art is both an act of preservation and invention, honoring the women who came

before me while imagining what their voices might have said if they had been handed the pen, the loom,

or the lens. Through the movements of my hands, I have learned to give life to the unspoken stories

around me. To stitch, to braid, to write, these are gestures of remembrance, but also of becoming.

My homeland is the root of my inspiration. I was born in the Land of the Setting Sun, in the arms of the

Atlas Mountains, cradled by the Atlantic’s eternal murmurs, and warmed by the Sahara. I grew up

immersed in nature’s abundance, learning humility and reverence for the earth. The red soil, the call to

prayer, and the hands tending the land with care shaped my earliest understanding of connection and

endurance.

In my eyes, hope is a woman; strength is a woman, my mother, my grandmothers, and the countless

Moroccan women whose labor, tenderness, and courage shape the world around them. My work is an

homage to them: to their stories, resilience, beauty, and survival. Through it, I carry the spirit of Morocco,

from the land of the Atlas to the world beyond, welcoming viewers into that realm with open arms.

In my work, these stories live not only in spirit but in sensation. Each sense holds its own archive: the

roughness of thread, the rhythm of a chant, the smell of earth after rain, the shifting colors of the horizon. I braid these fragments into my art as thread is woven into a rug entering into dialogue with them. Through this practice full of care, I honor my roots, imagine possibility, and create a space where past, present, and future meet.

For me, art is a home: soft, messy, sacred. It is not about finding answers but about dwelling in spaces where memory resists closure. My hope is that my work invites others into that space, not as distant spectators but as carriers of memory themselves, finding traces of their own lives within mine. To create is, for me, to insist on hope, to honor what came before, and to keep imagining what is still to come.