Editorial design for a zine created by Sarah Mounia as part of her sound documentary 
exploring women’s dreams and who has the right to dream in our society.
The publication brings together interview transcripts, photographs, personal texts, poems, 
and excerpts from books, creating a visual counterpart to the sound documentary.
For this project, I worked on the editorial design and layout, translating Sarah Mounia’s research
and collected material into a printed publication. The design creates a rhythm between text
and image while allowing the different voices and materials to coexist within the zine.
The project was developed in connection with Les Mamans Douées de Dar Bellarj
 and explores themes of women’s voices, imagination, freedom, and the right to dream.






This project is a bilingual editorial that explores Sufism across cultures by bringing together Darija and Chinese.
Through contrasting scripts  horizontal and vertical  it reflects on how spirituality moves beyond language.
The design becomes a space where cultural forms meet, echoing the shared rhythms of ritual, poetry, and silence






This editorial reinterprets the spirituality of Sufism through the rhythm of space and text.
Rather than just presenting words, it lets the layout breathe pauses, absences, 
and repetition become part of the message. The design invites readers to
experience the unseen: where meaning flows between lines, where silence carries weight
and where the sacred reveals itself not only in language, but in how it’s held.








This editorial was created during a workshop where we reinterpreted someone’s journal without knowing it’s author.
I was drawn to Lea’s intimate, reflective tone. Using texture, soft imagery, and a recurring red line, 
I aimed to echo the delicacy of her thoughts and evoke memory, emotion, and unseen connections. .








This experimental editorial challenges the visibility of reading. It features poems about Sufism,
 but much like spirituality itself, not everything is immediately clear. Some texts are hidden, fragmented
 or barely legible  inviting the reader to slow down, search, and feel. It’s a reflection on how spiritual
 understanding often lies between the lines, in what’s unspoken or unseewithout knowing the person behind it.