Girl with a box #williamsburg
Norooz poster in “Vestvood” a.k.a. Tehrangeles. (Iranians pronounce “W” with a “V” sound). This photo is compliments of my dad who lives in L.A. It makes me miss that California sunshine and the strip with all of the Iranian businesses. The kebab at Shamshiri or the Persian poetry books at Ketabsara. #westwood #CA #persians #iranians #norooz
Springtime in New York City brings a new feeling of hopefulness and liberation. A breath away from urban environments into the fresh air of the season, where snow melts, birds sing, and vegetation comes back to all this city concrete. Here’s Washington Square Park in transition—the trees are bare and gray ready to bloom in the next couple of weeks. March 20 will be the first day of spring, according to the Iranian New Year known as Norooz.
The feeling of nostalgia hits in strong doses, some days more than others. Just one month ago, on a gray winter day in the Tehran suburb of Lavasan I walked alongside my father and uncle passing this pomegranate truck. The brightness of the red fruit against the cold day made me feel warm inside. The thought of cracking open a pomegranate. The challenge of extracting those red rubies without staining your clothing. The crunch and satisfaction of eating the precious winter fruit. The beauty of pomegranate is I can eat it here in New York, but it will still always remind me of Iran.
I have been following Banksy’s work for many years now, and I am very happy to report that I have finally seen one of his original works in NYC. The “Concrete Confessional” is right in front of Cooper Union. Maybe Banksy is trying to gear this work towards the design and art students at Cooper Union? I also can’t believe he recently sold his works for $60 a piece in Central Park. I hope to spot another one of his works soon.