Description
With our hands; nimble or numb, we carry on our duties. Push and pull the threads of fate and bestow our will to the life that flows around us. Bloodied and unbound, touching to discover. We set out for adventures, to mend and to break.
Memories of generations run in our blood. Here in Iran we are burdened with so much that soils our hand and we learn to live with it. But I often wonder, where is the limit? Is there such threshold that dictates a bend or break moment. Endowed within the spiral of life we turn to find a way that falls through.
Sighs fall together to blow a wind that takes us apart so our worlds shall come together, for in pain, we are one.