silhouette of his footsteps over everything, his house, his loved ones, presidents of countries, his furniture. There is a footstep in the middle of everything. his sons would be a means of stopping the violence. He was strolling towards the face and strands of hair day in and day out with his brushes that dripped details, as though he was planting a face instead of plants. He hoped that the work would stop the waves of random kidnapping. I remember that it was the first time I saw a human eye at that size. That day, he was about to finish the face; he was near the mouth of the leader and drawing in the details of his teeth, when a large number of armed men surprised him by surrounding the canvas. A secret informant had told them that every day, from the late afternoon to early hours of the mourning, a man wiped his feet on the face of the leader. Hissam disappeared for 14 years. Recently, he was found in Brazil, drawing everything except the annihilating silhouette of his footsteps over everything, his house, his loved ones, presidents of countries, his furniture. There is a footstep in the middle of everything.
But let me finish, please. Let me say something.
Curated by Rafael França
Photograph by Thiele Elissa