From Beirut to Stockholm: My 16-year journey through the lens
It’ll soon be seventeen years since I moved to Sweden.
When people find out I was born and raised in Beirut, they usually ask the same thing: "That’s a big change, isn't it?" They aren't just talking about the weather. They’re talking about the energy.
Beirut is a city of layers: vibrant, loud, beautiful, and chaotic. Growing up there during the civil war, you learn to live with a certain amount of "noise". You become used to a world that is constantly moving, shifting, and unpredictable.
When I landed in Sweden, the first thing that hit me wasn't the cold. It was the silence.
Finding the quiet
At first, the silence was almost deafening. I remember walking through the streets of Stockholm and feeling like I had stepped into a different dimension. The horizons were so wide, and the air felt so still.
I started carrying a camera not because I wanted to be an "artist," but because I wanted to process that stillness. Photography became my way of translating my new home. I was chasing the exact opposite of the chaos I grew up with. I was looking for clean lines, open water, and trees that had stood in the same place for a hundred years.
The search for the honest line
Whether I am photographing the forest near my home in Sundbyberg or a black-and-white study of the human body, I realise now that I am always looking for the same thing: The honest line. I found a kind of honesty in the landscape and the human form. By stripping away the color or the "busy" background, you get down to the essence of the subject.
What’s in my bag?
People often ask me what gear I use to capture these moments. While I’m a fan of quality equipment (I currently shoot with a combination of Fujifilm and Sony cameras), the "gear" is secondary.
My real "kit" is just patience.
It’s waiting for the light to hit the scene exactly right.
It’s spending hours wandering through Sumpan (often with my dog) looking for the way a shadow hits a brick wall.
It’s about being present enough to see the quiet revolt in a simple silhouette.
A sanctuary on the wall
When I see my prints hanging in someone’s home today, it feels like a full-circle moment. I am taking the peace and clarity I found in the Swedish landscape and passing it on to you.
We all have "noise" in our lives, whether it’s work, news, or just a busy schedule. My hope is that when you look at one of my photos on your wall, you feel a little bit of that same silence that saved me sixteen years ago.