Rani Sharabati PALESTINIAN, b. 1998
57 x 85 cm
The cement wall does not surrender its secrets willingly; it is a mass of silence, a heavy presence that barely lets the light through. Nearby, shadows of houses recede under the weight of history, carrying memories that refuse to fade. Here, the place does not die; it retreats, condensed into every yellow stone.
The red lines cut through like temporal wounds, veins from the past, threading through layers of erasure, echoing the spirits that once were, asking: Who crosses here now, and who guards the absence?
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