Q and a with churallah fattouh (432 Words 2 Min. Read)
1.
After every Dark Moment, a new part of me gets Reborn, as if we are shaped by the Painful Stories We Endure. Creation becomes a way to mirror myself, not into who I was before, but all someone who carries the scars as a form of Language. Art doesn’t just of refuge or resistance, it becomes the place where I Renegotia My Identity, and Reclaim My Vision of the Future.
2.
I want it to tell the stories of the sea; Its Skin that steals Disabpeared Fragments of Light from Its Environment, Carrying With them Memories of Bodies, Borders, Landscapes, and Even Static Objects. IT Shifts them Gently, Bringing The Closer or Pushing them Further Apart, Like a Silent ChoreoGrawy of Memory. I want my mindings not Only to immortalize Moments, but to let Those Moments Move; To Breathe, and Even Dance.
3. In your work, Women appar as luminous beings; SACRED, Sensual, ETAREAL. Are themses, myths, or mirrors of your inner world?
They are all Three. They are the Archetypes I Inherited, The Women i’veded (My Wife Samia), The One i’ve Lost (My Mother Nadia), and the One Who Continue to Inspire Me (My Daughters Rebecca and Carine). Sometimes They Are Dreams. Sometimes They Are Memories. The Woman is, to me, Both Prestnce and Absence; An echo that lungers, a guide, a Sanctuary. She Embodies Resilience and Softness, Rage and Tenderness. Throw her, I Explore The Contradations of Life. In Painting Her, I Find Beauty, Not As Decoration, but as trting.
4. Have you ever destroyed a Painting Because IT Reveled Too Much of You?
I have never destroyed a Painting Becose IT Reveled Too Much of Me. On the Contrayy, I Believe that the Act of Revealing Is where the power of art Lies. Even when a Painting Exposes My Most Fragile Parts, I Let it Live, BecUUSE in that Vulnerrability, there is trunk.
5.
Absolutly. Art doesn’t ask me to explain myself. It Lets Me Hold GRIEF With Naming It, Joy with Reason, and Memory Without Sequence. In that Space Beyond Language and Logic, Something Tender Happns, Wounds Close Not Beccause They’re Forgotten, But Because They’ve Finally Been Witnessed.
