Flanders Fields, oil on keffiyeh fabric, 180x180cm, 2025

In my painting Flanders Fields, poppies bloom on a keffiyeh, where the soil and the fabric of identity are intertwined. Like in John McCrae’s poem, the poppy grows from earth scarred by war, a living memorial to the lives that were lost. In Palestine, the poppy is both the national flower and a symbol of resilience, rising from the places where the land has bled. By bringing these two histories together, I wanted to show that even when the war ends, the land still remembers, and from that pain, beauty continues to return.

In Flanders fields, the poppies blow


Between the crosses, row on row,
   

That mark our place; and in the sky
   

The larks, still bravely singing, fly


Scarce heard amid the guns below.



We are the Dead.

Short days ago


We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
   

Loved and were loved, and now we lie,
                          

In Flanders fields.



Take up our quarrel with the foe:


To you from failing hands we throw
   

The torch; be yours to hold it high.
   

If ye break faith with us who die


We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
                            

In Flanders fields.