Now:
I am in Houston, trying to look normal, despite the wild humidity that crazing my frizzy hair, tripling its size. I always walk with an out of proportion head in Houston.
Cat:
Since Zambezi left us, Zeitoon has become more sensitive to my absence. So I am a bit worried to be far from him at the moment. His protective gaze and forceful head-kicks concerns me every time I am leaving the house.
School and Work:
Another semester will begin next week. It looks like it will be my most intense semester; I will be defending my dissertation topic. I am trying to set the dates of the colloquium for some time before the end of November. Also I am looking forward to my first TAship at UT. The art history survey courses at our department engage students equally in art-seeing and art-reading. TAs will held most of their sessions in local museums and galleries. Thinking of New York’s rich cultural resources, I wish we could do this in our survey courses at Brookly College.
Green:
The summer heat has not gone, yet, fall is closer. Three full years far from home! Home is Iran; home is my brother; home is an argument over dinner with my aunt; home is my mom’s soft hands over my hair.
It is painful to be far, to not be home, to only read about home; to read about the inhuman adventurous path of Iranian regime, to read about the possibility of war, to hear of the long sentences and harsh conditions of political prisoners. It is hard to be far; to see one’s home reduced to digital images and printed words.
Believing in progress is tricky and being progressive is not easy. We shan’t forget that in all its beauty being Green - Iranian Green - is painful. We shan’t forget this Green is not alone, it is many. We shan’t forget the rainbow behind the Green. We shan’t forget fall always passes to winter and spring is close. This is perhaps one of those rare moments that I can allow myself to find peace in the metaphor of changing seasons!
Green, Houston, August 2010,
I am in Houston, trying to look normal, despite the wild humidity that crazing my frizzy hair, tripling its size. I always walk with an out of proportion head in Houston.
Cat:
Since Zambezi left us, Zeitoon has become more sensitive to my absence. So I am a bit worried to be far from him at the moment. His protective gaze and forceful head-kicks concerns me every time I am leaving the house.
School and Work:
Another semester will begin next week. It looks like it will be my most intense semester; I will be defending my dissertation topic. I am trying to set the dates of the colloquium for some time before the end of November. Also I am looking forward to my first TAship at UT. The art history survey courses at our department engage students equally in art-seeing and art-reading. TAs will held most of their sessions in local museums and galleries. Thinking of New York’s rich cultural resources, I wish we could do this in our survey courses at Brookly College.
Green:
The summer heat has not gone, yet, fall is closer. Three full years far from home! Home is Iran; home is my brother; home is an argument over dinner with my aunt; home is my mom’s soft hands over my hair.
It is painful to be far, to not be home, to only read about home; to read about the inhuman adventurous path of Iranian regime, to read about the possibility of war, to hear of the long sentences and harsh conditions of political prisoners. It is hard to be far; to see one’s home reduced to digital images and printed words.
Believing in progress is tricky and being progressive is not easy. We shan’t forget that in all its beauty being Green - Iranian Green - is painful. We shan’t forget this Green is not alone, it is many. We shan’t forget the rainbow behind the Green. We shan’t forget fall always passes to winter and spring is close. This is perhaps one of those rare moments that I can allow myself to find peace in the metaphor of changing seasons!
Green, Houston, August 2010,
2 comments:
سلام
قسمت آخر خیلی پراحساس بود.مواضب باش.مگر نمیدانی:سبز بودن چه جرم سنگینی ست
مسعود جان
بله سبز بودن سخت سنگین است
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