During my formative years, nothing captivated and stimulated my imagination quite like the art of painting. It soared above all other pursuits, occupying a central place within my being. The act of creating vivid imagery became an all-encompassing intellectual passion, diligently pursued throughout the various stages of my life's journey. I started my artistic education at Karaj fine art school for Diploma. Then I went to Tehran University, earning a bachelor's degree, and subsequently continued to deepen my knowledge by pursuing a master's degree at Tarbiat Modares University, specializing in the profound discipline of painting.
In more recent times, I have broadened the horizons of my artistic repertoire by delving into the realms of graphic design, illustration, and the captivating field of UI and UX design. This diversification has allowed me to expand my creative prowess and enrich my experiences.
In the summer of 2022, my beloved wife and I embarked on a significant life transition, leaving behind the vibrant city of Tehran to establish our new home in the splendid city of Boston. Presently, we reside in Boston, cherishing the opportunities and experiences that await us in this culturally rich and thriving environment.
With great anticipation, I eagerly look forward to forthcoming remarkable moments, such as the prospect of becoming acquainted with Mr. Sherman, our esteemed neighbor.
I met Saeed. a young Iranian artist by happy serendipity, in my neighborhood dog park. He was walking his host's dog and I was out with Remi - who is responsible for many of my new friends!! We talk politics quite a bit. He unequivocally belongs to the "light side".
Saeed's wife, Mariam, is a researcher on ovarian cancer at MGH. They will be here in Boston for several years.
I am impressed by Saeed's decency and sensibilities, and I appreciate his artistic talent. His work can be found on his website.
Here is work that Saeed recently presented to the 2023 Boston Printmakers Biennial:
Let the Curses of Hell Rain Down Upon You
Throughout history, a pattern has repeated itself in hierarchical societies where those in power become entangled in the affairs of their lovers and wives while disregarding the needs of the lower class they govern. This behavior ultimately distances the ruler from their own society and blinds them to the oppression they inflict on the people. As a result, the ruling apparatus becomes cursed by the grief-stricken mothers who have lost loved ones due to the inhumane actions of those in power. This curse spreads like wildfire, engulfing the entire governing apparatus and leading to its eventual dissolution.
I will end my discussion with a poem by Ahmed Shamlu, a contemporary Iranian poet.
They passed by, broken and defeated,
Ashamed of their tuneless songs.
The alleys fell silent,
Their footsteps drowned out by the sound of defeat.
The soldiers passed by, broken and defeated,
Weary and desolate on their horses.
Their colorless banners of pride
Tumbled down upon their spears.
What good is your pride in the heavens
When every cursed speck of dust on your path
Curses your name?
What good is your garden and its trees
When you spoke with sorrow to the cypress?
Wherever you set foot,
Plants wither and die.
For you never believed in the sanctity of earth and water.
Our destiny was sung
In the skeptical songs of your soldiers
Returning from the conquest of the Rus castle.
Let the curses of hell rain down upon you,
For the black-clad mothers,
Bearers of the most beautiful children of sun and wind,
Still raise their heads from the prayer mats.