Art, Healing and Hope

A reflection on how art can serve both a creative and therapeutic role for survivors of genocide. Inspired by the art and practice of Ezidi artist, Jason Noah, in France, workshop participants painted on dried maple leaves that had fallen to the ground. Ordinarily seen as debris, they revived life into the leaves by turning them into beautiful artworks, a metaphor for their own lives. Along with artist, Kheder H. Daham, they also collaborated on painting their vision of the sky bringing multiple perspectives to bear on something we all share.

If creativity were to run through bloodlines, there is no better example of it than Jason Noah and his eleven-member family. Without any artistic training, Jason has excelled in painting while also developing an interest in playing music. His two older brothers,  Ismail and Salam, are also virtuoso artists as is his younger sister, Dahlia. His younger brother, Sahir, is a poet. Five of the family play musical instruments—saz, oudh, piano, and clarinet. All of them study or work yet make time for their creative passion. Jason laughed, “We are a football team—we are 11 including our parents. I don’t know how they did it.”

Jason first began to sketch in refugee camps in Greece as he fled Shngal after the 2014 attack by Da’esh on the Ezidi community: “It was a way of dealing with the trauma of the genocide. So many people suffered. I wanted to make suffering into something that could be empowering, to turn gloom into hope.” He did not have canvas around him in the camp, so took to painting on maple leaves. These became his signature trademark: maple leaves with scenes of bridges over rivers, moonlit forests, animals and birds, and men and women in different settings.

Artistic scenes painted onto maple leaves by Jason Noah.

The largest maple leaf is about 10 inches wide. After painting on them he would protect them by putting them in a wooden backed glass frame. Living in a tent and facing uncertainty about the future, he found inspiration in the natural world around him. To this day, Jason still walks around trees and forests, picking up leaves to later paint on.

When Jason arrived in France via Greece in 2017, he took to canvas with a broader horizon of imagery. Some of these paintings are idyllic—boats at sunsets, beautiful men and women, and awesome landscapes. But some reach into the depths of his family and community suffering—distraught boys with their mouths sewn together—on the mouth is written “untold story” with other words splashed across summing up the ongoing nature of the genocide in Shingal as well as in foreign lands as refugees—hatred, discrimination, racism, extremism, and lonely. One painting, “Soul Scars,” is of a beautiful woman who has cracks on her face as if it was broken like a porcelain vessel, also alluding to the way women were forced to look beautiful when they were turned into goods by Da’esh and their networks for the trafficking of women and children. Look deeply into the whites of her eyes and you see even more horrors delineated in the red arteries.

Dolven and Samson in front of artwork, “Soul Scars” by Jason Noah

Another called “Love Roots” shows a woman whose grief turns her into a tree that is uprooted from its soil. The night crossing across the Adriatic in flimsy boats with substandard lifejackets is depicted in another, “The Fire of Injustice”, with a fiery beast blowing hot fire onto a body that turns its back to those who flee the monster on small boats.

‘The Fire of Injustice’ by Jason Noah

This was a journey full of dread—on a boat made for 2 people, Jason was crammed with 29 of his extended family members, with only half of whom could swim. His real-life nightmares are depicted in another visualisation where the robotic alienation of western towns becomes another kind of ongoing purgatory in “The Long Walk Home”.

‘The Long Walk Home’ by Jason Noah

Picturisations such as these became a cathartic channel for his experiences. It was not enough to paint pretty pictures that others would buy. But also to be honest to his feelings and experiences so as he could conjure about the horrors of genocide and its aftermath. A striking image, “The Last Embrace”, is one of two lovers hugging each other while etherising in a beautiful landscape as if to conjure up lost loves. His passion for creativity also extends to a commitment to raising the status and esteem of the Ezidi community.

Collaborative Creations

We organised workshops with Jason to which we invited several Ezidi participants, most of whom were women with four having been held in Da’esh captivity. Participants were welcomed into an open creative space in the basement of Jason’s rented home.

Ezidi painting workshop

In the introduction, Jason emphasised “art, healing, and hope through creativity.” Throughout, he also shared examples of his artwork and spoke about his personal artistic journey. He explained how art had helped him navigate difficult chapters of his own life and how creativity became a powerful tool for healing, resilience, communication, and self-discovery. Art can be much more than an image on a canvas. It can become a voice when words fail. It can transform anger into creation, pain into beauty, silence into communication, and despair into hope. He encouraged participants to see art as a space where they could build their own world with colors, shapes, imagination, and freedom. A place where emotions could be released safely and transformed into something meaningful.

Every brushstroke is an opportunity to tell a story, to send a message, and to reclaim ownership of one's voice. Through creativity, people can create worlds that may not yet exist but that carry their dreams, hopes, and visions for the future.

The first session was about painting on real tree leaves. Jason shared the story of how this practice began, explaining that these leaves had once been part of a living tree. They had fallen, dried, and been left on the ground. Most people would simply walk over them without noticing them. Yet these same leaves were collected, transformed through art, framed, exhibited, and eventually found homes in different countries around the world. The leaves are not just debris, but carry a powerful message. He elaborated:

“These leaves may look dead but we can bring them back to life with painting—it’s a re-creative process. Once these leaves were under my feet and now I look up at them as works of art. The leaves are treated as if their lives have finished but they haven’t. Neither has yours.”

The participants were enwrapped by what he was saying. Just as a fallen leaf may appear forgotten, moments in life can lead to feelings of being broken, invisible, hopeless, or abandoned by their circumstances. Yet life often has unexpected paths. Light can appear when it is least expected. New opportunities, healing, and meaning can emerge from places we never imagined.

Participants were then invited to choose a folded paper containing a single word such as Hope, Love, Peace, Strength, Freedom, Light, Growth, Belonging, and other positive themes. Without any rules or limitations, each participant was encouraged to paint whatever came to mind on their leaf.

The results were remarkable. The women calmly and creatively took to the task at hand, some for the first time since they were a little child at school, recalling a peaceful time before the horrors of the genocide took place. The artworks that emerged were deeply personal and moving.

Some created abstract compositions, while others painted symbols, emotions, memories, and reflections of Shingal where they grew up. One participant painted a broken heart trapped inside a cage, creating a powerful image of emotional confinement, loss, and the desire for freedom. She explained:

“This is the level of my life. It’s been very dark and bloody. I’ve been dreaming for this light and wished this light will be larger. Red is the blood drops on a leaf. This is like me in prison and I’m trying to get outside. The dark days are more, unfortunately. Still the heart is there but it is broken.”

Maple leaf painting of a heart trapped in a cage.

Others filled their leaves with symbols of love, peace, family, resilience, strength, and renewal.

Experiences of terror were transformed to beauty. One woman painted  to the tune of “Harmony” with the sun and stars. “The red lines indicate someone trying to take the sun down with an arrow. But on the other side, new life is starting with the growth of the tree.” For “Hope”, another woman painted an image of a cracked earth through which a small bright red flower emerges. Another artist who collaborated, Kheder H. Daham, received Peace: he painted “a girl’s hand holding out an olive tree branch. The child is giving the branch to God. The children seek peace: they are those who were born in violent areas, sick children and those children who are forced to suffer.”

Every leaf became a small world of its own, conveying a unique voice and perspective. Each leaf became more than a painting. It became a quiet story, a reflection of an inner world, carrying emotions that words alone often struggle to express.

One Sky, Many Perspectives

The second workshop focused on the idea that although we all live under the same sky, each person experiences and sees it differently. Participants were invited to paint their own interpretation of the sky on individual canvases. They could respond to each other’s work, overlap elements, and build layers together. Some painted bright blue skies filled with light and possibility. Others chose dramatic sunsets, star-filled nights, clouds, storms, birds, or abstract atmospheres.

One woman painted the school that she used to go to surrounded by graves under a foreboding sky. She was from Kocho where hundreds of men were massacred and women and children held captive in the school.

Painting of school in Kocho by Samson.

Each canvas reflected a different emotional landscape and a different way of seeing the world. When all the paintings were displayed together, they formed a collective artwork that beautifully illustrated the diversity of human experience. The sky becomes a shared space shaped by many hands.

One sky.

Many perspectives.

Many stories.

Many journeys.

Although every canvas was unique, together they created a powerful sense of connection and belonging, reminding everyone that despite our different experiences, we all share the same world and the same horizon.

Art as a Space for Healing and Connection

Many participants arrived to the workshop carrying difficult memories, experiences of displacement, loss, separation from loved ones, and the challenges of rebuilding their lives after unimaginable events—the lack of genocide justice, Da’esh extremists wandering around free, the lack of state interest in their welfare, and their fatique with repeatedly telling others about the ordeals they had been through both in Iraq and in France. Among them was a mother and daughter from Kocho, a village that became one of the symbols of the Ezidi tragedy. Their family suffered devastating losses, with around seventy relatives, including parents, uncles, aunts, and other family members, lost during the genocide.

Understandably, participants shared stories marked by grief, disappointment, frustration, and anger. The emotional weight of these experiences was clearly visible in the room.

Yet as brushes touched the leaves and colors began to flow across the canvases, something remarkable happened.

The atmosphere slowly transformed.

Conversations softened.

Faces that had arrived carrying tension gradually relaxed.

Participants became fully immersed in the creative process, focusing on colors, shapes, symbols, memories, and imagination.

Several participants shared that they had not painted since childhood. For some, it was the first time in many years that they had allowed themselves to create freely without expectations or judgment.

Watching this transformation unfold was deeply moving.

The same people who had arrived carrying heavy emotions became absorbed in creativity, curiosity, and expression. Through painting, they found a temporary refuge from everyday worries and painful memories.

Art became a language.

A language for emotions that are often difficult to express.

A language for memories.

A language for resilience.

A language for healing.

More than a painting session, the workshops became a space where participants could explore emotions, memories, and hopes through art while sharing a meaningful moment together.

It became a meeting place between stories, experiences, emotions, and dreams.

Through leaves that symbolised resilience and transformation, and through skies that reflected different perspectives, participants explored creativity, connection, identity, and hope.

As the workshop came to an end, the tables were no longer covered only with paint, brushes, canvases, and leaves. They were covered with stories, memories, dreams, and pieces of human experience.

The room that had begun with conversations marked by loss, hardship, and disappointment gradually filled with color, reflection, curiosity, smiles, and connection.

For a few hours, art created a space where pain could coexist with hope, where memories could be transformed into creativity, and where every participant could leave behind a mark that was uniquely their own.

The fallen leaves that once lay unnoticed on the ground had become artworks.

And in many ways, they reminded everyone present of an important truth:

Even after the harshest seasons, new colors can emerge.

Even after loss, hope can return.

And, on occasion, the most beautiful transformations begin in the places where we least expect them.

Final Outcome

The workshop produces a single immersive installation composed of:

A large collaborative sky painting

A constellation of individually painted natural maple leaves

The work reflects both unity and individuality, connecting human expression with natural forms.

The composition is fully collective and spontaneous. Participants may respond to each other’s work, overlap elements, and build layers together.

The sky becomes a shared space shaped by many hands.

‘Wings of Possibilities’ by Jason Noah.

Jason Noah, Raminder Kaur, and Farhad Shomo Roto, June 2026