How did I find myself at the European Congress of Psychiatry?

The short answer: because of an interdisciplinary project called Nomadic Souls. The long answer is everything this post is about.

I’m an artist and curator. And I believe deeply in working across disciplines—not just as a method, but as a way of seeing the world. I believe that art doesn't live in isolation, and neither do people. Especially not immigrants.

Nomadic Souls began almost two years ago, but it feels like it’s been with me longer. It started, as many meaningful things do, with a conversation—first with a doctor in occupational therapy, then with Sivan Regev, a doctor in occupational therapy and one of the founders of Nefashot, an initiative focused on mental health awareness through culture and the arts in Israel. She asked a question that resonated deeply:"Do you think there are artworks that express what recent immigrants are going through, especially after the war in Ukraine?"

At the time, we had no idea how urgent that question would become. That was before October 7. Before another war shattered whatever illusions of security were left. But even then, the emotional weight of immigration was obvious. As someone who has gone through it, I knew that artists were already processing it in their work—sometimes consciously, sometimes not.

So we launched Nomadic Souls with a national open call. What we got in response was overwhelming. Nearly a hundred artists joined us, and the exhibitions began—each one sparking the next, because each conversation opened another one.

But let me be clear: this project was never just about art exhibitions.

From the very beginning, Nomadic Souls was built as a research-based, community-engaged, multidisciplinary platform at the intersection of art, immigration, and mental health. I’ve worked from day one with scholars, mental health professionals, social researchers, and fellow curators—not just to present artworks, but to understand what they reveal about vulnerability, resilience, memory, and adaptation.

And we’re doing something quite rare in the Israeli art and academic scenes.

Often, the subject of immigration is examined only years—sometimes decades—after the fact. Art by established immigrants becomes material for curators, researchers, and institutions. But what happens to the voices that are still forming? The experiences that are still being lived?

Nomadic Souls: Semiotic of the Start, 2024

Our focus is on the recent, the unfinished, the voices that are still searching for their place. Many of the artists we work with have arrived in Israel in just the past few years—some since the war in Ukraine began, others even more recently. And we collaborate not only with academics who study these issues but with researchers who have themselves gone through migration and repatriation. This gives us access to living, breathing, first-hand perspectives—through both images and data.

Map by Natalia Rosenbaum, 2023

I believe that immigration is a key to understanding Israeli society—not just one part of it. It cuts across communities, histories, traumas. It affects those who’ve just arrived and those whose parents arrived generations ago. It is both a shared foundation and an open wound. But while immigration is a national story, immigrants remain a vulnerable group—facing housing crises, job insecurity, cultural dislocation, and now, in the shadow of multiple wars, deep instability. The war in Ukraine brought a mass repatriation wave from former Soviet countries. The war after October 7 has made integration into Israeli society even more stressful—emotionally, politically, existentially.

And still, Israel is meant to be home. For many, a long-awaited, hard-won home. But how do you build a life in a place that’s constantly under threat? How do you make sense of a new language, a new identity, while processing trauma?

These are the questions our project asks. And these are the stories our artists tell.

We’ve had three major exhibitions so far. The current one is on view at Ulpan Gordon in Tel Aviv until May 29—a meaningful space, as the Ulpan is often the first institutional point of contact for immigrants learning Hebrew and starting to build their Israeli lives.

Community event by Nefashot, Ulpan Monsters Exhibition

In July, we open a new exhibition at the Indie Gallery. And the fifth one is already in development.

But each exhibition is more than just a show. We design each one as a space for dialogue. Through artist talks, community events, open conversations, and collaborative research, we make sure these exhibitions don't just "show" art—they activate it. Each event deepens the connection between artists, researchers, and the public. Each gathering brings more people into the circle. Each voice echoes into the next stage.

And yes, that’s what brought me to the European Congress of Psychiatry in Madrid. It’s not a place you usually expect to find a curator. But this project doesn’t fit into neat boxes.

Together with Sivan—who brings a strong clinical and academic foundation—we co-authored a poster that explored how this kind of community-rooted, artist-driven, research-informed project can offer new insights into immigrant mental health, especially in times of crisis.

For me, the moment became even more personal because I brought with me a work by Masha Neverova—a brilliant artist, a dear friend, and a fellow mother, who has gone through her own migration journey in the last years. Carrying her work with me into this professional and intellectual space was a way of honoring everything Nomadic Souls stands for. It was a reminder that behind every presentation, there’s a story. A body. A lived experience.

Map by Masha Neverova

And that’s what I want to continue doing: Bringing these voices—raw, recent, and still unfolding—into rooms where decisions are made and futures are shaped.

This is just the beginning. If you’re an artist, a researcher, an institution—or someone who understands the value of stories told in real time—Nomadic Souls welcomes you.

Let’s rethink how we talk about immigration. Let’s stop waiting for the voices of now to “settle” before we hear them.

Let’s engage—across disciplines, across communities, across borders.

Because one exhibition leads to another. And one honest story can open the door to many more.