When I was two or three years old, my mother gave me watercolor paints—metal tubes filled with vibrant colors—and some paper. I instinctively began to pour the colors onto the paper without any order, and then folded the paper. To my surprise, the colors blended into one another, forming a large, multicolored wing. That moment marked a turning point in my choice to use drawing as a means of expression, deeply rooted in my belief that nothing happens by chance. The bird and its wings seemed to have an existence—whether conscious or unconscious—but inside, I felt a connection to the world of birds. I never felt like I truly belonged to either the earth or the sky; I always felt like I existed in between.

As a child, my steps were quick, and the first historical event that etched itself into my memory was the story of Abbas ibn Firnas, who attempted to fly. Since then, even at 43, the bird has remained my primary symbol. For this collection, I took time to think about the title, and ultimately "Birds of Liberation" felt most fitting. Sadly, due to the war and its aftermath, I found myself unable to paint flying wings. Instead, I painted the death of the bird, its fall, and the repeated attempts that symbolized the pain I experienced in my continuous struggle for survival in this chaotic world—especially the impact of war on my homeland. These visual representations became my way of documenting the events.

Yet, despite all the setbacks, life didn’t stop, and my belief in the power of flight continued to fill my heart. The fall of the criminal dictatorship from my country on December 8, 2024, led me to choose liberation and birds as my central themes. I created a series of expressive and symbolic works, with birds at the heart of them, as a symbol of freedom and the renewal of hope in a new world.