Mind’s eye is so powerful that it can visualize a lush green garden with flowing water just across a rugged desert.

Helpless man can do nothing but to take refuge in fantasies, exploiting dreams of his mature mind to lead him throughout his life.

It makes me feel happy yet worried to fantasize; fantasies rapidly vanish into thin air. My fantasy is an incomplete universe, replete with flaws and fear of the moment. It is a wrong universe with miscalculations about life.

I have an incessant longing to finally reach my destination in life, continually blaming myself for not seizing the day and for having to bid farewell to the departed, one after the other.

From dawn of creation, mankind has proclaimed the harmony of life in mediocre
observations such as “Look how clear water is flowing down!”

I consider myself incomplete, for I believe I have blurred vision, seeing neither the balance nor the mathematical calculations. Again I resort to whatever is surrounding me to discover within the geometry of life all the promises of justice. Nonetheless, it is the same.

Passage of time convinced me that my vision was flawed and my disease incurable.

So I need to hold on to my fantasies, where nothing incorrect, incomplete and

unfounded is considered to be a blemish.

I left the truth and justice to the wise and began to make up fantasies in my head, happy to know that nobody could find faults with them.

This world of fantasy is an excellent place, where no one claiming to be gifted with insight and ontological knowledge is found.

So this is how I portray the fantasy of creation in the geometry of my thought.

I am depicting the world the way I wish; I am depicting the world the wrong way I see it.

These perceptions are, to me, portrayal of an imperfect fantasy of a mature mind.

An imperfect fantasy assumed significance and meaning for me in a circular figure.

Elusive lines and forms within the circle began an involuntary “dialog” among them.

Mirror Statement

Spiritual observation of Iranian artists of the past as well as consistency of their words and thoughts are absolutely fascinating to me. One wonders how an observation can become a fantasy and so perfectly turn into diverse art forms. 

This is far from what my fantasy is; neither does it come close to my observation. What I have in mind is distortion as well as shedding doubt on that consistency. Throughout this period of my career, invisibility of visible objects emerges in my work in various forms, reappearing this time in the form of mirror-works.  

Disintegration of an object and its incomplete, obscure appearance in multiple mirrors are providing me with an ideal language. Forms of organic phenomena of the past that reminisce dissected or lacerated organs are re-created through blending with residual materials and elements of oriental fantasy.  

And ultimately, laceration of an organic object in an oriental fantasy was such presented … 

Pooya May 2014