Arts Lab 7.0: Marah Isnaf | Month III

The rhythm of the third month shifted in a powerful way — stepping into JEMOM felt like entering a new chapter where the focus turned more inward toward personal artistic exploration, while still staying deeply connected to collective creation. This month was shaped by several intense layers: my personal artistic work, the collective performance with seven other artists, and the residency with Kerem, where photography, youth work, and a video game came together into one shared process of exploring how emotions live in the body.

The collective performance was one of the most intense collaborative experiences I’ve had. Each of the seven artists took on a specific role, and we had to build something together while holding very different artistic languages, boundaries, and emotional realities. The process was confronting and demanding — there were moments when it felt like everything might collapse under pressure. Tension, exhaustion, misunderstandings, and vulnerability were all present. Through this, I learned what it means to stay inside a group without shrinking myself. I learned to stay true to my feelings and my vision, even when expressing what I need created friction. I learned that being part of a group does not mean allowing mistreatment or unwanted behavior, and that I do not have to make myself smaller to belong. At the same time, I also learned to let go — that sometimes silence gives more than action, and that stepping back can be just as powerful as pushing forward.

Alongside this, my personal artistic work at JEMOM went deeper than ever before. Working so closely with people every day made the process emotionally intense — creation was inseparable from relationships, pressure, and constant interaction. There were days full of doubt, heaviness, and resistance. But I kept returning to my own sensations and limits. I learned to trust what feels right in my body and in my vision, even when others did not fully understand it. The process was not easy, the road was not smooth — but we made it. And that alone became one of the strongest lessons of the month.

A central part of this month was the residency with Kerem and the youth, where we worked with photography, black fabric, clay, and digital storytelling to explore how emotions are experienced physically. I worked closely with the youth to capture their emotions — grief, sadness, fear, hope, and vulnerability — through images created under the black fabric, where their bodies and faces became landscapes of feeling. We also used clay to shape what they felt in their hands, giving form to emotions that are usually invisible. Based on the photographs I created with the youth, Kerem developed a video game that translated these embodied emotional states into an interactive digital environment. It was powerful to witness how the youths’ inner worlds traveled from body to image, from image to clay, and from clay to game. This process reshaped how I understand documentation — not as something that freezes experience, but as something that allows experience to continue transforming.

Today As in December 9th was finally the day of the performance. And it was really, truly good. This Exhibition felt very different from the first one — the audience were mostly youth, and they were more present, more curious, more engaged. The interactive part of the performance became a living experience, and it worked. People followed, responded, and moved together — showing so clearly how humans often follow one another without questioning, and how interaction can reveal patterns we usually don’t notice. Mihaela and the audience were happy and genuinely surprised by the experience. The energy in the space felt alive, responsive, and shared. Also people enjoyed the photography that I did and ask question about the process and how each face represent and an emotion and we started to talk about.                                                         

What do you feel this picture captures? 

At this moment, I feel proud of each one of us — of the group, of the process, of everything we carried to reach this point. But I am also deeply proud of myself. We did it. Through tension, exhaustion, fear, doubt, silence, and persistence — we did it.

Emotionally, this month was quieter on the surface but heavier inside. The exhaustion of the previous months was still present, yet now it felt recognized rather than resisted. I became more aware of my limits, my need for rest, and the importance of choosing where my energy belongs. The excitement of the beginning transformed into a slower, more grounded relationship with the work.

This month taught me that staying true to myself is not always comfortable, but it is necessary. That expressing what I want can create tension, and that this is not failure. That belonging to a group does not require self-erasure. And that letting go — choosing silence, distance, or pause — can sometimes offer more clarity than constant effort and action.

Looking forward, I carry with me a deeper trust in my rhythm, my boundaries, and my creative truth. I want to continue creating work that moves between embodiment, photography, sculpture, digital storytelling, and participatory performance. The third month showed me that growth can be difficult, slow, and deeply human — and that even through conflict, fatigue, and uncertainty, something meaningful can still emerge. I feel more grounded in my vision now, more confident in my voice, and more aware of what I can give and receive inside collective creation.

This monthly report was written by Marah Isnaf, our Palestinian volunteer taking part in a seven-month Arts Lab 7.0 mobility, co-funded by the European Union under the European Solidarity Corps.