|
Maryam
Salour
Dandelion
I
went
to
the
studio
to
continue
work.
On
my
canvas
lay
a
dandelion.
Seeing
it
brought
me a
sense
of
joy
and
play.
A
wide
field
opened
before
my
eyes.
It
was
as
if
the
canvas
had
turned
into
soil
for
the
flower
to
grow.
I
have
worked
with
soil
for
years.
My
hands
have
ran
roots
in
it,
to
the
point
that
all
my
works
—
ceramic,
sculpture,
canvas
—
are
of
earth.
The
dandelion
flower
of
our
painting
sat
on
the
sufrace
—
both
that
of
the
yet-to-see-color
canvas
and
the
layer
parched
and
dry
earth.
The
flower
was
just
a
guest,
but
it
slowly
found
its
place
in
the
filed
and
became
native.
"__Dandelion__"
is
now
the
title
of
these
series
of
painting,
but
only
in
name.
In
fact,
the
canvas
is
the
stage
on
which
the
flower,
slowly,
quietly
appears
and
takes
the
lead
role
—
placidly,
playfully,
abidingly,
and
weightlessly
—
and
stills
time.
The
dandelion
flower
whirls
and
dances
in
infinite
space,
bringing
breath
to
the
canvas.
It
playfully
joins
heaven
and
earth.
With
a
mist
of
rain,
arid
soil
sprouts
and
the
dandelion
stem
sends
off
whirling
flowers.
So,
perhaps,
the
subject
of
these
paintings
is
that
which
connects
heaven
and
earth.
Suspended
in a
mysterious
space
that
it
engendered,
the
dandelion
sprouts
out
of
soil
and
moves
on
with
delicacy,
on
the
wings
of
memories,
messages,
and
dreams,
leaving
nothing
behind
but
innocence
and
transparency,
and
of
course
the
earth,
which
is
the
memory
of
the
world.
Maryam
Salour
|
Fall
2017
|
