Then, I mentioned him in a story that profiled me. His daughter read it and reached out. Many of your works are by Dana Nehdaran. What do like about his art? We got introduced through a mutual Persian friend, and his art feels like home to me. I love the ornate patterns, the metallic elements and tile fragments. They represent the rugs, furniture and architecture of my family and friends growing up. And the round piece is a map with Iran centered and ominously painted in bronze.
To me, it has a dual meaning of Iran being isolated politically but also celebrates the societal connections between Iran and the world. Do you have any works that depict anything in Iran? The Color Of You. Blue used to be my favorite color.
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Your eyes were like looking at the sky on a perfect summer day. But skies turn to storms and you struck me harder than any lightening bolt. When faced with dangerWe must stare it in the faceAnd scream. It is in our human nature. Arrivals and departures They ask us why we always leave them. Time Flies. My childhood was a lime-green twist car that raced fast across the living room.
Thirty laps to go, around an oval track with a dining table, in the middle. My sister a cosplayed. I Am Strong. I am prisoner to Insecurity. How do I get out? How do I set myself free? Insecurity has a friend: Anxiety. Listen let me tell you. Out to Sea. I took my dark thoughts down to the seashore, But they just stayed inside or behind me. I don't want to be with them anymore, So I treid to free them out to sea. No matter how hard I try to let them go,. Fear of heights, and falling from tall skyscrapers—. The War in Me. Beowulf versus Grendel A classic tale of battle, which continues in me.
My Grendel has terrorized me for years, Sinking her claws deep into my soul Every day I fight back — Becoming my own hero. My best moments were ten years ago. Being able to jump in my parents bed Feeling the warmth of their sheets. Not thinking that one day I would have to let go.
My family was once a completed puzzle. Salt my Earth. My fingers hurt, but not as bad as before. Maybe because the numbness is going away and the actual pain is revealing itself. But sometimes pain like that is good, if only because it means we are healing On Being Vulnerable. The Past. The past is a renewable resource, A chance to add to my short repertoire.
The timeline can show lessons in mem'ries, and old, never-been-heard-before stories. The past is my not-so-secret garden,. Tears stain your cheeks. You come to school every day, In a mess of mascara.
We pass in the hallways. Nomads and Red Hot Redemption. Girl That Smells Like Period.
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I always bite my tongue at the thought of standing up for what I thought was right. I bit my tongue, thinking about confrontation.
Paradise Lost: Book 1
The Corner. A whole, hole drowning me in darkness I ran and I fell and now i'm seeing a sea, rocking like i'm on a boat, see sawing because i thought i saw a raging sea and a dangerously sharp saw coming after me. My body stands on a cliff I can't look down my hands will slip from the railing my breath is cold and suddenly non-existent suddenly i jump falling forward.
The Rain is so fitting tonight. Saying all the words I fail to express. I remember that night clearly. He liked me, I liked him.
THE POETICAL WORKS OF JOHN MILTON
Fire So Colorful. What goes up must come down. It's the law of gravity. You throw a ball up into the air and what does it do? For Thy questions. For thy Questions I call to thy art whom made heaven and earth is the earth heaven or hell. The Demon. There it was, That shadowy silhouette With its glowing yellow eyes, And tall stature, Always watching, Always waiting, Waiting for the perfect time to strike. Main Fear.
Fear, a concept I am most familiar with. As intriguing as a well-known myth. One thing I have feared most; losing friends, For friends are meant to stay until the very end. Eve's Affliction. The stars evade my glance I find myself caught up in a trance Have they crossed me all too quickly? It is there with me every day all night. In the morning when my alarm blares, and in the evening when sleep evades me.
Pure Fear. The Drowning of Pip and the Redemption of Tuck. Pip waded with Tuck as far as she could reach, But she could not follow him onto the beach. Pip stood on her tiptoes, trying to follow, But she gasped for air, and choked as she swallowed. Sink or Swim. The Lighthouse.