You have spoken of the sacrifices that you had to make to become an artist. What was the nature of these sacrifices, and why did you believe they were worth making?
In the early seventies, my exhibitions in New York received a lot of attention from art critics, dealers and museum directors and curators. My studio provided a large space for exhibition and performances bringing many artists, musicians, poets, and peace activists.
Pursuing one’s vision in art, whether literary or visual, is a commitment with total devotion and dedication of body, mind and resources. It is a deep journey into a universe filled with intricate, fascinating and mysterious regions. It is also a tough journey with many great challenges and difficulties, requiring a continuous fight and struggle against many obstacles and barriers obscuring the works’ compelling view of the world.
But the lack of financial support made it impossible to maintain it. Eventually, it was seized and most of its contents lost or destroyed. But I went on with life and continued carrying on my work.
You resumed your artistic work in 1975, at the outbreak of the Civil War in Lebanon. How did this event lead you to return to painting?
The staggering loss of the studio was followed a year You began to paint and display your work in New York, until your studio was shut down in 1974 because of financial problems. 700 of your works were placed in storage, then lost or destroyed. What effect did this loss have on you? later by the terrible shock of the outbreak of the Lebanese Civil War. I responded with a fury of paintings transmitting images that delved deeply into the reality and consequences of war. The earlier work on Vietnam found common ground with those of