In Middle Eastern cultures, it is believed that the coffee residue at the bottom of one’s cup reflects one’s fortune. I see reflections of people’s personalities, moods, histories, and intentions in the ashtrays they use, couches they rest on, and sweat stains on their dresses. To me, the imperfections in the objects have gradually become representative of the people themselves. Perhaps the walls of my childhood home look at me through their cracks.

One can travel into the vacuums of other people’s lives through these anthropomorphic voids and cracks, these imperfect objects. 

I try to recreate a narrative through Pareidolia, a narrative I do not know by heart, but have been exposed to; maybe as I watched my grandmothers weave rugs or my mother make clothes. In this recreation, I bring to the forefront the voids and imperfections, which my predecessors tried to elaborately conceal.

Pareidolia is the last work in a series of experiments that started with taking photographs of the face-shaped patterns I recognized in my environment, and then transformed into drawings and markings using paint, spray, glue, and stencils. These experiments eventually evolved into a weaving.