This Month we are focusing on resilience
Let's Prompt Acceptance
A vivid collection by our team, where hardship transforms into hue, line, and light.
Attention
A lone candle steadies in a restless room, its flame bowing, rising, bowing again— teaching the dark how to listen.
Denial
Fingers over the mirror insist on darkness, yet breath clouds the glass with evidence— a fragile, unwanted truth tracing itself in fog.
Awareness
Dawn doesn’t declare itself; it slips between leaves, staining them gold, revealing dust as constellations at arm’s reach.
Resistance
A seed splits stone from the inside, silent yet relentless; it remembers the sky before it sees it.
Sadness
Rain counts rooftops like untold stories, each drop a hush of unfinished grief pattering the syllables of our names.
Acceptance
The river yields its name at the mouth, softly surrendering to salt only then does it realize it has always been ocean.
About Prompting Acceptance
Our poster series is an intentional time-warp: Ali Zaraket tried to borrow the idea from bold typographic prints and grainy halftones that defined print activism of the 1980s and the irreverent color blocking of early-1990s street posters—then splice them with today’s algorithmic flourishes. Analog textures meet AI-generated gradients; retro cut-and-paste edges morph into shapes. This hybrid aesthetic mirrors our theme: the timelessness of human emotion mediated through new tools, and a new understanding.
Each piece is anchored by a “prompt” that names a station on the journey of acceptance—denial, sadness, awareness, attention, resistance, healing. We frame grief not as an interruption of life but as a natural current we must learn to swim with; resilience, we suggest, begins when we stop fighting the tide, when we accept the stages and think of it positively. The prompts invite the viewer to pause, respond inwardly, and recognize where they stand on that looping, nonlinear map.
Visual storyteller Reema El-Sayed amplifies the concept through collage. She layers archetypal symbols—wilting flowers, cracked mirrors, rising birds—into geometric scaffolds that echo the poster cultures of yesterday. Her hand-cut imagery, then lightly re-composed by AI, reminds us that technology can extend, rather than erase, the tactility of art. The result is a dialogue across decades and disciplines, asking one simple question: What do you need to accept, right now, to keep moving forward?
Prompt to Attend
A lone candle steadies in a restless room,
its flame bowing, rising, bowing again
teaching the dark how to listen.
Write a 150-word scene inside a bustling café, library, or open-plan office where the protagonist practices radical attention on someone or something overlooked—a barista’s trembling hands, a dusty plant on a sill, a colleague’s stifled yawn. Let their focused notice alter the energy: noise recedes, background blurs, connection blooms. Illustrate how this attentive gaze becomes a quiet gift, acknowledged or not. End with a fleeting yet vivid detail—a latte art heart unbroken, a single leaf unfurling, a smile settling—that proves attention can remake a moment.
Prompt to Deny
Fingers over the mirror insist on darkness,
yet breath clouds the glass with evidence
a fragile, unwanted truth tracing itself in fog.
Pen a 150-word vignette in a familiar domestic setting—a living-room mid-argument, a teenager’s cluttered bedroom, a family dinner table—where one character vehemently denies an obvious truth. The denial should manifest through ordinary actions: wiping an already clean counter, turning up music, passing a dish too briskly. Let tension pulse beneath polite words, each gesture a barricade against reality. Allow surrounding objects—the ticking clock, the blinking router light, the overcooked rice— to bear silent witness. Finish with a sensory fragment (the acrid scent of burnt food, a cracked phone screen, a stopped clock hand) hinting that the truth, though refused, is already reshaping the room.
Prompt to Be Aware
Dawn doesn’t declare itself;
it slips between leaves, staining them gold,
revealing dust as constellations at arm’s reach.
Craft a 150-word moment on the cusp of action—a cyclist paused at a red light, a chess player’s hand hovering over a piece, a diver balanced on the board. Use precise sensory flashes—heartbeat in the ear, breeze against knuckles, distant siren—to reveal heightened awareness. Show time seeming to stretch, details sharpening into almost painful clarity. Conclude with one near-silent cue (a click of the traffic signal, the soft thud of a pawn, the creak of the diving board) that signals the instant just before decision.
Prompt to Resist
A seed splits stone from the inside,
silent yet relentless;
it remembers the sky before it sees it.
Write a 150-word vignette set in an ordinary place—a kitchen, a bus stop, a classroom—where a single, everyday act quietly defies an unjust rule. Let the resistance be small but unmistakable: a shared glance, a disguised symbol, an unspoken agreement. Show how this subtle spark ripples through the space, shifting the atmosphere from resignation to resolve. End with one sensory detail that hints at a larger uprising waiting just beyond the scene.
Prompt to Be Sad
Rain counts rooftops like untold stories,
each drop a hush of unfinished grief
pattering the syllables of our names.
Compose a 150-word snapshot set in an otherwise cheerful environment—a children’s park at dusk, a wedding banquet hall after guests leave, a carnival booth just shut down. Center on one figure whose private sorrow leaks into the scene: a lullaby hummed to no child, confetti swept too slowly, a carousel horse still spinning. Let everyday sounds muffle around them, as if the world tilts out of tune. Finish with a single sensory detail (the taste of stale frosting, the smell of spilled popcorn, the cold metal of the horse’s pole) that crystallizes their grief.
Prompt to Accept
The river yields its name at the mouth,
softly surrendering to salt
only then does it realize it has always been ocean.
Write a 150-word vignette in a liminal space—a shoreline at low tide, an airport gate at dawn, a hospital corridor during shift change—where two characters quietly embrace an inevitable change. Let acceptance arrive through a small gesture: the offering of a scarf, a shared thermos, a nod toward departing footsteps. Show how this gesture melts tension, allowing breath to lengthen and colors to soften. End with a subtle image (a receding wave, a final boarding call, a light switching from red to green) that seals their surrender to what must be.
Acceptance: The Pulse of Our Work
Acceptance isn’t a footnote—it’s the pulse that threads our work. We honour every accent of culture because we are many cultures. We listen to the quiet details and the thunderous big picture, knowing both deserve space. We stand at the crossroads of expertise and curiosity, welcoming each new idea the way the sea welcomes rivers—no judgment, only expansion. By embracing ethical technology and authentic storytelling, we prove that courage starts with saying “yes” to difference. Acceptance, for us, is not passive tolerance; it is an active act of creation—one that transforms diverse voices into a single, resonant narrative of possibility
Acceptance: The Pulse of Our Work
Acceptance isn’t a footnote—it’s the pulse that threads our work. We honour every accent of culture because we are many cultures. We listen to the quiet details and the thunderous big picture, knowing both deserve space. We stand at the crossroads of expertise and curiosity, welcoming each new idea the way the sea welcomes rivers—no judgment, only expansion. By embracing ethical technology and authentic storytelling, we prove that courage starts with saying “yes” to difference. Acceptance, for us, is not passive tolerance; it is an active act of creation—one that transforms diverse voices into a single, resonant narrative of possibility.
Meet the Artists
Artwork:
Reema El-Sayed
Concept:
Ali Zaraket