In many of his works, Mohammed captured profound, forgotten features of Gaza—each unearthed artifact, fragment of a clay jar, Roman wall, or remnants of ancient civilizations bringing them to light. The titles of his artworks and exhibitions often reflected this deep attachment to memory and history, such as Strength and Defiance of Time, Challenging Features, Remains, Rebirth, The Well of Memory, and Features of Memory. His artistic focus seemed to crystallize around the memory of place: the grains of sand, soil, and water holding shards of history and its markers. From this interest in place-based memory, his artistic preoccupation extended to the identity of Gaza's natural landscape: its hills, trees, cacti, grass, and water. His works presented us with numerous pieces bearing the names of places once known only locally—places that genocidal war and the daily repetition of killing, destruction, and pain have rendered familiar worldwide. 

These names, once local, now resonate globally as sites of both tragedy and resistance: Al-Mawasi, Al-Ezba, Ambiences of Beit Hanoun, and Tal Al-Atatrah. The genocidal war obliterated these places and their familiar features, burying them under heaps of gray destruction or turning them into sprawling refugee camps of makeshift tents. These camps depict human existence in its most fragile, destitute state, exposed to every form of cruelty and violence. They have become theaters of unparalleled human suffering, yet also of resilience, resistance, defiance, and perseverance—grim witnesses to the unleashed barbarity of occupation and colonial powers and the world's helplessness to contain or alleviate the resulting human suffering. Memory dominates Al-Madhoun’s artworks, not merely as an individual act of defiance against forgetting, but as a collective and human legacy—something to take pride in, yet threatened with erasure and extinction. His works captured the image of the Pasha’s Palace in the Daraj neighborhood, a relic of the Mamluk era, alongside the remains of a Roman wall that withstood two thousand years of time’s trials in Gaza.

 His paintings also held the fragility and latent strength of the cracks in an ancient clay pot. Beyond landscapes and ruins, Mohammed painted the faces of those around him: children, youth, and elders. Their expressions and gestures further deepened his artistic focus on preserving the identity of his place and furnishing its memory with all that might capture its richness and diversity. In one of his works, Gaza Winter, Al-Madhoun depicts the season as Gaza knew it before the genocidal war and the refugee tents turned it into a curse or affliction for those displaced in the camps. The war erased the place with its familiar features: its homes, trees, people’s faces, and beloved belongings. It also erased Al-Madhoun’s artworks, which sought to capture it all. Amid the presence of remaining names and the absence of what they once signified, these images persist as witnesses, combining signifier and signified. They offer a space to generate a language capable of reconstructing life and place, rendering them impervious to erasure or annihilation