Words & Centrefold Art by Ali Al Omari (he/him)
Words are often the only weapons available to Palestinians, giving us the power to shape perception and to fight back. Yet, as powerful as words can be, I find myself at a loss of words, unable to articulate my thoughts or emotions. Instead, I express myself best through art.
As I stand before the canvas, brush in hand, I am filled with a sense of purpose that transcends my own experiences. Born far from the turmoil of Palestine, I am a former refugee, sheltered from the horrors that have haunted generations of Palestinians. Yet, as an artist, and as a human being, I feel compelled to lend my voice to their cause, to amplify their struggles through the medium of art.
In my hands, the echoes of Picasso’s ‘Guernica’ take on new life, and transform into a testament to the resilience of the Palestinian people. With each stroke, I weave together the threads of their stories, the pain of displacement, the anguish of loss, and the unyielding spirit of resistance.
Through my rendition, I seek to capture the essence of their daily struggles, the relentless oppression that stains the walls of their homes and the skies of their homeland with the blood of innocents. I paint the shadows of soldiers and tanks looming over bustling streets, the barbed wire cutting through fields once fertile with hope, dove birds with press vests depicting the courageous journalists, and the towering walls that confine an entire population to the prison of occupation.
But in the darkness, there is also light. In the faces of Palestinian children, I see defiance and determination, their eyes shining with a hope that refuses to be extinguished. In the solidarity of activists around the world, I find inspiration, their voices rising in unison to demand justice for those who have been silenced for over 75 years.
As I step back to look at my work, I am filled with a sense of both sorrow and solidarity. Though I may never fully understand the depth of their pain, I stand with the Palestinians in their struggle for freedom, dignity, and self-determination. Through art, empathy, and solidarity, we may continue to shine a light on their cause until justice is finally served.
We have an incurable malady: hope.
Hope in liberation and independence.
Hope in a normal life where we are neither heroes nor victims.
Hope that our children will go safely to their schools.
Hope that a pregnant woman will give birth to a living baby, at the hospital,
and not a dead child in front of a military checkpoint;
Hope that our poets will see the beauty of the colour red in roses rather than in blood;
Hope that this land will take up its original name: the land of love and peace…
- Mahmoud Darwish
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