This collection is forged from a dialogue between paper and memory; the forms present on the surface emerge from the depths of the underlying layers. Here, paper is no longer merely a backdrop—it is the artwork itself: a living body that breathes, covers, conceals, and reveals. Within each layer lies a trace of myself—a part that wished to remain hidden, and a part that longed to be seen. The prints are buried between two layers of paper, much like memories that occasionally surface through time and at other times sink into the mind›s silence. This act of concealment is, for me, a return inward: a journey into the layers of being, where meaning manifests not on the surface, but in the depths. In the process of creation, I utilized the gladiolus—a flower associated with grief in our culture, yet for me, a symbol of resilience in the face of suffering. By pressing it onto the pulp, I left its impression behind: a mark of impermanence and endurance, of delicacy and wounds. What remains on the page is not the image of the flower, but the memory of its touch with the medium—a fleeting moment of presence. In some pieces, the visual space turns abstract, making the act of viewing a process of discovery. Just as we ourselves are a cluster of layers and experiences—at times transparent, at times dark, and ever-changing. For me, each piece serves as a reminder that being revealed does not always mean being seen, and remaining hidden does not always mean nonexistence. Ultimately, these papers are me: fragile yet unyielding, full of mystery, like fragments of my inner self surfacing in search of meaning.
Sima Zad