چقدر دورند سالهایی که لالایی موهایم را شانه می کرد و باد در طره هایش آشیانه داشت.
دیگر حتی خورشید هم به رویش لبخند نزد تا یلدای خزان به سپیدی گیسوانم گره خورد.
The Other Side
Far gone are the years when lullabies caressed my hair and the summer breeze could call it home. And suddenly everything went dark… and now the only brightness is the reflection of my own gray hair
In Islam, when a girl reaches the age of nine, she has to cover her hair. Thirty-one years onwards, when turning 40, I witnessed in sorrow my hair had started to gray without ever having had the chance to be
touched by the sun. This series of double sided self portraits portray a dual image of this moment of my life; the front image through a veiling of the back of the female’s hair, coupled with a fading of the black color saturation. The reverse image, reflecting that what is always unseen and forgotten, through a cover of handmade black and white silver gelatin emulsion, rendering the exposed female hair as limp, wasted and useless