Sepideh Nejad Satari

1. The gray delicate figure slowly appeared. Like a shadow, she quietly paused before the cage, made of my words. Through her appearance, another color was given to the array of my simple words; a kind of gray I always found myself involved with.

An artificial shadow, replete with the truth…

She looked confused behind that frame. It seemed like she was waiting for something else. All the incidents, those people of the other side were talking about had no impact on her. Carefully, she listened to the whispers she heard from them. The whispers became more and more as time went by. But she could hardly find meaning in any of their sentences. The words were surely beautiful. And they were bringing lots of justifications, trying to prove something. They were laughing all the time and furtively peeping at her. But, no matter how well she knew all those words, she could not understand the total meaning of the statements.

She glanced at them. They were each in one cell, all different from one another. But they were sitting like they were to decide about something of an extreme importance. A sound of hammer was heard at the end. The lights went off…

2. In this collection, “it is the shadow of Chardin that has been added to the Chardin’s nightmare in my mind. Chardin, the French painter, through her plain and definite perspectives in the luxurious world surrounded her, tried to fill the simple facts of life by colors.

The Chardin of my mind is also definite but in the chaos of the thoughts.

3. This time she could see their eyes in the darkness, looking around the cabinets…

How wonderful…

They could not see her anymore.

She listened attentively. Again there were whispers, laughs, stares…

And again the sound of hammer

She looked through the cells. This time, all she could see was the hammer.