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- WAS THE NEWSLETTER #102
WAS THE NEWSLETTER #102
BASMA'S ART SHOW

#102
I’m Paige Wassel. WAS the Newsletter is your weekly dose of design inspiration, where interior designers and artists make the best power couples.
ART IS LIFE
There’s no question that art is one of—if not THE—most important design elements in your home. But good art isn’t just about what a piece looks like. It’s about the story, people.
That’s why my bestie Basma’s work is so special to me, and why I think it resonates with so many of you. Basma’s paintings and sketches aren’t just beautiful objects, they have real heart and meaning, just like her.

Basma has had two art shows in the past few weeks. I had the chance to check out Basma’s work at a group show, La Onda, and it was spectacular. I also attended her show at Private Eye, which is a secret art gathering that I will actually be digging into more on next weeks newsletter. I asked her a few questions about La Onda, her pieces, and what she learned from the process, so you can learn a little more about the story of her art.
Tell us about your recent art show! What was the inspiration? What brought these works together, thematically or visually?
The show was part of La Onda, which means “the wave.” The word carries several meanings: movement, rhythm, and shared energy, and that felt true to what the show celebrated; ten years of Civil Coffee and the creative community that has grown around it.
The works I showed belong to a larger body that looks at thresholds between inner and outer life, order and collapse, distance and closeness. Each painting approaches that tension differently. Bloodwork / Lightwork explores dual vocation and belonging; Private Heat / Exterior Calm traces the quiet pressure between what’s felt and what’s shown; Pick Your Poison deals with temptation and consequence; and Tarkovsky by the Fire reflects on time, memory, and endurance. Together they are less about narrative and more about holding instability, about how form can stay intact while emotion threatens to undo it.
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What were some of the challenges of putting together a show? What makes it different from just creating individual pieces of art?
Framing was the hardest part because I didn’t want something gallery style or overly polished. I wanted it to hold the work without softening it. To me the black matting and silver frames gave it structure and space to breathe. In the end, I realized I was looking for something that matched the tone of the paintings, something that could extend the work rather than decorate it.
What’s different is showing work with others shifts how you see your own. It becomes part of a larger rhythm instead of standing alone, which changes the energy completely.

What piece are you most proud of? What is its story?
It’s hard to choose. I don’t really think of the paintings hierarchically; they rely on each other. But Bloodwork / Lightwork is the one I keep returning to. It still feels open and unresolved, like it’s working through something. It comes from living between two ways of being, one that’s more instinctive and raw, and another that’s measured and structured. That’s something I navigate often, moving between Saudi and Western contexts. And to me this piece came from that in-between space, from being a kind of contradiction, and learning to stay there.


If you could call this show by an alternative name, what would it be? Why?
I wouldn’t change the name. It was a group show, and La Onda already reflected the rhythm of the space and the people who built it. My work found its place within that rhythm, and the day of the show felt the same. So much warmth, love, and support, a kind of collective energy I hadn’t experienced before in Los Angeles. If I were naming my own body of work, maybe Intervals would fit, since the paintings often sit between states.
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How did this experience affect you as an artist? What did you learn? What did you enjoy/dislike (if anything)?
It made me look at my work differently. I had to pull pieces from different years and see how they connected. Choosing what to show was harder than I expected, but it helped me understand the work better. It was also the first time I’d shown my paintings in person, and that changed something for me. The support felt real, from everyone who came and from Madeline Mackenzie at Civil, who reached out to me to be part of the show. It reminded me that making art doesn’t happen alone. Around that time I’d just finished reading The Artist’s Way, and the day of the show felt exactly like what Cameron describes as a creative cluster, a sense of shared energy that keeps you moving. As for what I disliked, I guess the hardest part was learning to let go of control once the work was on the wall, but that was part of the lesson too.

Finally, tell us about your zine and where we can get one!!
Do/Don’t started almost by accident; a random party conversation that made me start leaving a notebook out. One sketch a day, no pressure.

Since 2023, I’ve filled four pocket-sized notebooks with drawings and daily do’s and don’ts lists. What began as an astrology app riff turned into something else: wordplay, self-reflection, and my own strange logic. The things we notice, resist, and repeat. It’s not about being perfect. Just present.
These pages are small observations of what I do and don’t, but the last one is yours. Fill it in however you want. That’s kind of the point.
They’re available for preorder here: https://www.basmaromaih.com/shop/p/do-dont-limited-edition-zine

xx,
P







