Life Through Her Eyes

If I was a plant, I would be bamboo, it's almost unbreakable If I was an animal, I would be an Arabian horse, the more tired it gets, the faster it goes The eighteenth in a series from Palestinian artist and writer Rand Sayej

Juggling personal affairs Falling in love Focusing on a career path Planning the next adventure . The seventeenth in a series from Palestinian artist and writer Rand Sayej

To all foreign visitors, we wish you a pleasant stay here in Palestine and to ensure a smooth swift stay please make sure to follow these guidelines: - Please make sure to not carry any sharp objects when moving between governorates: this may include but is not limited to a lighter, phone charger, nail clippers, water bottles, canned drinks, plastic Tupperware, keys, key chains, and any book larger than 100 pages. The sixteenth in a series from Palestinian artist and writer Rand Sayej

I used to think writing helps me express myself Now I can't find the words to say how I feel I used to think therapy allows me a safe space Turns out I don’t feel safe anywhere The fifteenth in a series from Palestinian artist and writer Rand Sayej

I am usually very good at suppressing unwanted memories I am brilliant at disconnecting from anything and everything I can avoid conflict until there is no need for one And I can be ignorant of reality without even trying The fourteenth in a series from Palestinian artist and writer Rand Sayej

Once you hear it, you can’t un-hear it Once you see it, you can't un-see it I see you everywhere I hear you everywhere I can’t get over you Over your love . The thirteenth in a series from Palestinian artist and writer Rand Sayej

We had only been seeing each other for a couple of months but the feelings were strong, I had met his brother and sisters. It was going great, in Palestine nothing great lasts. The twelfth in a series from Palestinian artist and writer Rand Sayej

I love white, I will always be your guardian angel Write songs for me and about me Protect and provide for me Be proud of me and to have me . The eleventh in a series from Palestinian artist and writer Rand Sayej

I had a dream of growing old with the love of my life, I had a dream of becoming a mother and bearing children, I had a dream of becoming a doctor, I had a dream of owning my own home with a backyard. The tenth in a series from Palestinian artist and writer Rand Sayej

She would bring a book for us to read Sometimes we just listen to music One time she brought a guy over My favorite is when I get to hear her silent thoughts while we are cuddling. The ninth in a series from Palestinian artist and writer Rand Sayej

While being accepting of death While believing in gods and wisdom While keeping a positive attitude While working hard to be your best self The eighth in a series from Palestinian artist and writer Rand Sayej

Where to now? Where can I go that is safe, but still call home? If hospitals, UN schools, mosques, and churches are not safe, where can I seek shelter? My home was bombed on day 15 The seventh in a series from Palestinian artist and writer Rand Sayej

In a world where kids dream about being superheroes, there are kids who do not get to dream In a world where a mother is worried about her kid's future, there is a mother whose kids were murdered The sixth in a series from Palestinian artist and writer Rand Sayej

At 7 days old Your eyes are still blurry. All you do is eat and sleep You cry, a lot People are happy you're here You are swamped with love and kisses on your sweet little face. The fifth in a series from Palestinian artist and writer Rand Sayej

Does it scare you when I smile despite my pain? Does it scare you that I'm living while surviving you? Does it scare you to be an inspiration for revolutionary art? The fourth in a series from Palestinian artist and writer Rand Sayej

On October the 9th 2023, I am asked to speak at an international live-streaming webinar about “youth participation in humanitarian emergencies and why it is important”. The third in a series from Palestinian artist and writer Rand Sayej

On the day that the youngest victim in Gaza was 3 hours old, I was asked what gives me hope I laughed; I really thought she was joking Up until that day, six of my friends have lost their homes A hospital was bombed Two of my friends sent me a farewell text I had a meltdown about socks The second in a series from Palestinian artist and writer Rand Sayej

It is normal to think your friend is dead when they do not pick up. It is normal to continue work after receiving an “I don’t know if I'm gonna live until tomorrow” text from your friend. The first in a series from Palestinian artist and writer Rand Sayej