Esraa Kamal

SOso on this planet by Esraa Kamal

I constantly yearn for open space, it follows me as I draw, mingled with layered emotions. Sometimes it surfaces, and I rise with it. I draw to trace the voice of my thoughts, my feelings, myself— to understand the world unfolding around me.
‍
Attempts to disappear have failed. Sleeping for days only adds pain— and sink deeper into depression.
‍
My grandparents’ house lives vividly within me. Though my grandfather is no longer physically there, his presence still travels with me, from within. Everything is shifting too quickly, unsettlingly— the balance of power within the house is thrown off. Thursday, our day of gathering, has vanished. Also, people have vanished.
‍
I visit the house, watching it absorb the weight of absence. And each time I do, my senses search for what once was. The past weighs heavily— crowded with idealized visions of the world, and with them, a relentless sense of what I should be. Faced with limited options and overwhelming feelings of alienation, the gap grows wider—between accepting my body and self, and the gaze of others who wish to shape me into something that pleases them. The noise inside swells— my atoms restless, volatile, ready to burst at any moment.

1
‍I am drowning.
From where do we come? From ourselves?
The solution is always within, but I keep wishing for a magical solution that will make everything disappear.
How can I solve all my problems?
Only by disappearing.

‍2
‍We live in a society that fears feelings.
We don’t know how to express them.

‍3
‍I have so many feelings.
I try to hide them.
I’ve been trying to bury them for years, feeling ashamed of them
even though they burst out of me against my will.

4
‍What comes to me is a stone, a cry
The rock that split my back.
There is no place to escape from my thoughts, from my feelings, from loneliness.
I stumble endlessly into the many ways places collapse into nothingness.
My room surrounds me.
I can’t see anything.
I can’t see my shadow.
‍
‍5
‍I almost swear that this helped me.
This thing helped me a lot.
This artistic practice wasn’t art.
It was a matter of life or death.Sometimes I don’t know how to speak.
I feel heaviness in my chest.
I feel that I disappear from my consciousness when I start.
My conscious mind fades.
This harsh voice, the controlling one, disappears.
I don’t feel the heaviness of my body.
I don’t feel the heaviness of my thoughts…
I don’t feel my weight.

‍6
‍We grew up, and silence became the master.
Silence of the situation.
Silence of harm.
Silence of feelings.
Silence of everything.

‍7
‍In my healing journey, sharing is a part of it.
Healing is a part of it.
Medicine is a part of it.
Fear makes me shrink.
Desire makes me shrink.
Life makes me shrink.

8
‍By sharing, I can loosen my burdens.
Pages can loosen their grip.
My soul can meet different pieces of itself.
We can feel that we are not alone.

‍9
‍A lot can happen simply because someone knows you.
Because someone calls you.
And because you try to experience your private artistic practice, your own build, your soul’s raw insistence, completely and fully.

Bio

Esraa Kamal is a visual artist and a graphic designer born in Cairo in June 1999. She graduated from the Faculty of Applied Arts, Department of Media and Graphics, Badr University in Cairo (2017-2022).

Esraa works with the design team at Fathy Mahmoud Porcelain. She is also a part of the “Saad and Ekram Bedtime Stories” project and contributed to illustrating the first story "Nana Semsema’s Blanket"
‍
Esraa is interested in expressing momentary feelings and thoughts as part of communicating with the self and healing through the integration of multimedia: collage, ink, lino-printing and photography. This integration of multimedia allows her to express internal and external noise and conflicts. She is currently working on an independent project on the making of Zines.

Welcome to the Folk Atlas. This page contains elements that are not accessible for mobile use. To ensure you get the best experience, we therefore recommend you to use a desktop.