A: I was born in the oldest part of Damascus, a place where cultures, religions, sounds, foods, and spices coexist and overlap. These layers carved lasting three-dimensional memories in my mind long before I ever painted or sculpted. My sense of form was shaped early by this density of life, history, and contradiction.

While studying painting in Damascus, Eastern and Western artistic traditions began to merge within my vision. However, it was only after moving to Italy to study sculpture — and working with marble from Carrara — that this duality became unavoidable. I could not separate myself from my cultural heritage; instead, it emerged naturally within the material.

As a result, my sculptures carry questions rather than answers — questions about transformation, displacement, emotional shifts, and changing relationships. There are traces of fear, curiosity, contemplation, and observation. I often feel like a child discovering the Western world for the first time, yet this child is reborn from a previous life, carrying memories, weight, and history from another country.

This tension between origins and discovery gives my work its emotional resonance and defines my visual language.