First and before you trouble yourself to read the whole thing, I would like to invite friends that I think will enjoy this game as well as I did: Roya, Roshi, Ba Kavir, Sanaz, Zeinab.
Sculpture Biennial, Tehran , Summer2005*
Many thanks to Nazy for inviting me. Writing this took hours of remembering and memorizing. What you will read is short because I don’t have the means to publish volumes of books about many extraordinarily people in my life.
To think of it, I really can’t list People, Places, Things or overall beings, who have affected me in my life. Not only their number hits limits of my counting skills, but also for listing something one needs to – or at least I need to – put them in order. And simply I am not able to classify them because these effects did not occur orderly. Directly or indirectly many are still affecting me. Another factor that makes this so called game – but really Life – hard to play for me is that I was affected deeply by many sad events and I am not sure if I am allowed to bring those up into a happy game. So I will participate in this game with many jumps; I choose a few among many.
Dawn, my hairstylist in Princeton, and Sohayla, my beautician in Tehran; I owe a great deal of my daily harmony to them. They craft my appearance with their care and skill.
Keyvan, who I call Raiis (Boss), a friend that I’ve missed greatly. He represents all of my cinema pals back home; their intelligence astonishes me still. I am thankful to them for their patience and support. Without any exaggeration I learned from them more than I have learned from anyone in that school.
Dr. Amery, my dentist in Tehran, and his lovely assistant Nazila Joon. I was the only kid that he agreed to visit. I was 4 then and afraid of everything. My short visits to home won’t be complete if I don’t meet with them.
Professor B. She accepted me as her assistant and it was my first academic position in the United States. It was not only from her vast knowledge that I have learned greatly, but also from her modesty and friendship.
Mr. Youshi, my Colored-Photography teacher, and Professor Loghmani, my Cinematography master; they stand for many great teachers that I have had the privilege of being their students.
P & M, they both remind me how pleased I should be by my choices, my achievements and myself.
My brother, by him I jump over my lovely family. He represents my loving, intelligent and extraordinary parents, my astonishing aunts and uncles, and my lively cousins. He has grown in me since he first appeared in a chubby belly of my mom. He stayed back and let me rule over my little First-Born-Child Empire. He waited and looked. He let me grew up and then we became friends. He showed me how rules become limits; how one can break free of the limits that get hold of one, and one should challenge the ordinary in order to Be. His musician mind plays the melody of my life.
To think of it, I really can’t list People, Places, Things or overall beings, who have affected me in my life. Not only their number hits limits of my counting skills, but also for listing something one needs to – or at least I need to – put them in order. And simply I am not able to classify them because these effects did not occur orderly. Directly or indirectly many are still affecting me. Another factor that makes this so called game – but really Life – hard to play for me is that I was affected deeply by many sad events and I am not sure if I am allowed to bring those up into a happy game. So I will participate in this game with many jumps; I choose a few among many.
Dawn, my hairstylist in Princeton, and Sohayla, my beautician in Tehran; I owe a great deal of my daily harmony to them. They craft my appearance with their care and skill.
Keyvan, who I call Raiis (Boss), a friend that I’ve missed greatly. He represents all of my cinema pals back home; their intelligence astonishes me still. I am thankful to them for their patience and support. Without any exaggeration I learned from them more than I have learned from anyone in that school.
Dr. Amery, my dentist in Tehran, and his lovely assistant Nazila Joon. I was the only kid that he agreed to visit. I was 4 then and afraid of everything. My short visits to home won’t be complete if I don’t meet with them.
Professor B. She accepted me as her assistant and it was my first academic position in the United States. It was not only from her vast knowledge that I have learned greatly, but also from her modesty and friendship.
Mr. Youshi, my Colored-Photography teacher, and Professor Loghmani, my Cinematography master; they stand for many great teachers that I have had the privilege of being their students.
P & M, they both remind me how pleased I should be by my choices, my achievements and myself.
My brother, by him I jump over my lovely family. He represents my loving, intelligent and extraordinary parents, my astonishing aunts and uncles, and my lively cousins. He has grown in me since he first appeared in a chubby belly of my mom. He stayed back and let me rule over my little First-Born-Child Empire. He waited and looked. He let me grew up and then we became friends. He showed me how rules become limits; how one can break free of the limits that get hold of one, and one should challenge the ordinary in order to Be. His musician mind plays the melody of my life.
Sculpture Biennial, Tehran , Summer2005**Unfortunately I don't remember the artist's name.
2 comments:
My Dear Roja, Sweet, Sweet Tameshk! Thank you for accepting my invitation. Thank you for your lovely and poignant post. You are honest and generous, but most importantly my dear, you are ORIGINAL! (Kasi keh mesle hich kas nist--Foroogh said.) Nobody else has your sense of style and timing. You did well my dear. I enjoyed reading your reflections and your sentiments. Your family are indeed lucky to have you as such a prominent (the older child) member. I'm sure they have no trouble at all in loving YOU! Take care and be in touch. I do miss you and your kind and spontaneous comments.
azizam! faghat begam lazat bordam. omidvaram chand sale dige ke dobareh dar in mored minevisi man too listet basham!!!!(shooookhi)
Post a Comment