سالهای کودکی ام را خوب بخاطر نمی آورم ولی دلتنگی بزرگی ام را چرا.
forgotten is the happiness of my childhood… How come the bitterness of growing
up is as clear as today?”
its most easily understood form, the contrasting images between my mother
(taken before the revolution) and myself (an official high-school picture taken
during the Iran-Iraq war), convey a sensation of the passing of time itself –
seen through the lens of two consecutive generations.
another level however, I also seek in this series to visualize some of its
consequences – the bitterness resulting from an unhappy and wasted childhood,
an eroded capacity for kindness and compassion, the substituting of dreams and
hopes for reality and the immediate.
other words, a transformation between two generations from a people still
endowed with kindness and mystery, to one which is increasingly focused on the
self, aware of its own wants and ready to fight for it, without the luxury of
reflecting on what may have been.
picture is more damaged. My mother looks at the lens, I look through it.
Uncaring about anything other than quickly getting done with that what has to
be done, exposing myself realistically, devoid of any romantic touch.
hijab is here just what it is, a compulsory necessity, an additional
burden to carry. Nothing exotic about it, no opportunity for those who do not
share the same experience to gain a somehow grotesque sense of satisfaction by
imagining they are looking at something mysterious.
when did they ever make a stamp of an ordinary person? Or a suffering one?