Dakar rally talismans

تعويذات رالي داكار

After coming back from Saudi Arabia, I looked through the photos of the small paintings I had been giving to people on the Dakar — my little calling cards.

Some followed my geometric practice, others were more spontaneous free paintings.

Watching them again brought me back to Jeddah cafés and the Yanbu bivouac, where those freer pieces were born.

أعادني النظر إليها إلى مقاهي جدة ومعسكر ينبع، حيث وُلدت تلك اللوحات الحرة.
4" >أعادني="" النظر="" إليها="" إلى="" مقاهي="" جدة="" ومعسكر="" ينبع،="" حيث="" وُلدت="" تلك="" اللوحات="" الحرة.

 When I wanted to paint in Al‑Balad, I suddenly realized I had forgotten my brush back home in the Czech Republic — and I couldn't find a single stationery shop. Only cosmetics, perfumes, gold. I ended up chatting with two Muslim women from Georgia on a street corner, thinking out loud about where to find art supplies. And then it hit me: I could buy an eyeshadow brush. For two riyals I got a whole set of cosmetic brushes and used them to paint at Terrace Café. The water cup I solved by buying a tiny bottle of water, drinking it, and refilling it with tap water in the bathroom.
 

While the last week of the year inspired me with the calm, peace, and slow life of Jeddah, the New Year began with high speed in the Yanbu Dakar bivouac. Suddenly the calmness, beauty, and history were exchanged for dust, dirt, and the noise of racing cars. Despite all of it, I wasn't disturbed. It was just a different kind of inspiration.

The people. Honesty, kindness, friendship, fair play, tough humor, courage. It was all there in a concentration you don't experience anywhere else.

الناس. الصدق، اللطف، الصداقة، اللعب النزيه، الدعابة القاسية، الشجاعة. كان كل ذلك حاضرًا هناك بتركيز لا يمكن أن تجده في أي مكان آخر.

Imagine a bike rider losing his leg in a car accident and coming back eleven months later as a navigator. Another rider with more iron in his body than bones deciding to drive a Hilux instead of a bike. 

Or the moment during the prologue podium when a man carried a wheelchair to the stage so his injured teammate — who could no longer walk — could stand on the podium one more time. It meant everything to him. It was a very strong moment.
 

Suddenly dust and noise don't matter. It is the humanity that becomes the inspiration.

فجأة لم يعد الغبار والضجيج مهمين. ما يلهمك هناك هو الإنسانية نفسها.

My paintings were born at a much faster speed there — almost as if my hand wanted to compete with the racing bikes and cars.

I had started the series in Prague thinking they would be simple gifts.
But in Jeddah they spoke to me differently. Suddenly I knew they were not just presents — they were talismans. 

They had a higher meaning. They were meant to protect the drivers during the race.

 كان لها معنى أعمق. كانت مخصّصة لحماية السائقين أثناء السباق.

That's why I wrote short prayers on some of them: salam, baraka, al‑hamdulilah, ar‑rahman… keep your faith and come back safe, trust your angels — they will guide you.

And a few of them I gave to guys who had almost died on the rally. 

They became their talismans.

 أصبحت تعويذاتهم.