What kind of artist do you understand yourself to be?

I think of myself as someone who tries to convey a message of empathy and dialogue through the work I do, in whatever form best illustrates that, whether painting, installation or mixed media collage.

I feel a certain urgency to create work that speaks to the global issues of our time, especially with regards to the Arab world. I also believe many of the issues specific to the Arab world are reflected in other humanitarian crises, regardless of where the people live or are coming from. I think much of what I focus on – themes of displacement, forced leaving, vulnerability of women and children – are global issues that recur again and again. I hope the work can contribute to dialogue with a view to not repeating the same mistakes.

Despite the heaviness of my subjects, I use beauty, pattern, color and detail to bring my viewer close and to connect with the vibrancy of those subjects. Small details that reflect these enormous issues of war, displacement and migration, can be easier to focus on than the bigger picture.

Why were you first drawn to artistic expression and how did your practice develop?

Growing up in the “Near East” and moving very frequently because of conflict in the region, leaving home was a constant theme in my life. In contrast, the comfort of drawing and painting was something that could not be taken away from me. And inspiration was all around me in the carpets, tiles, fabrics, souks, churches and mosques – these all reflected a beauty and perseverance in the way people built and rebuilt their lives with creative resilience.

Can you describe a highlight moment from your journey as an artist?

The acquisition of my painting “Prayer Rug for America” by the Library of Congress was a huge turning point for me. The piece was my response to the tragic events of 9/11 in America. It was fairly early in my career as a painter and it showed me that a painting could facilitate a dialogue between people in opposition with one another, or at least create space for potential reconciliation and respect, which I saw after witnessing some frank discussions that arose from viewing the painting. That painting somehow became a place for introspection and showed viewers’ willingness to learn from one another as opposed to stereotyping or categorizing others.

How do you relate to the idea of being a Middle Eastern woman?

I know artists often deplore a label that identifies or misidentifies them and I have thought about this a lot over the years. I am many things and proud of them all – a woman artist, an Arab American woman artist, a Lebanese American woman artist – and I think these labels that are put on us, rightly or wrongly, are actually only helpful to the people using them to describe us. I also understand that labels can help institutions to have a frame of reference for categorization purposes, and that is fine. At this point in my career I spend less time thinking about which box people put me in and more about what I actually want to say as an artist.

How do you view the overlap between art and social impact?

I feel very fortunate that my career as an artist has allowed me to play a small part in the diplomatic sphere and help shape understanding between East and West. I absolutely think that art, in any form, is important for creating dialogue and respect for one another. The arts speak in ways politicians cannot – it seeps through cracks and plants seeds of compassion in a way that a political speech never could. Fostering connection in creative ways is more important now than ever.