for Amal Kaawash
‘Everyone is with their beloved and my beloved has gone. Oh lord, may the breeze bring my lover back to me’ – Al Rozana
You are here in the room eating fruit
your story closes the door
dims the light we follow
the singular thread of your voice
that sews itself multiple and then there is silence
that displaces us all from our former selves
when you sing a thousand women exit
your mouth enter the space
when you sing
I hear a chorus primordial
summoning us with the beat
of your drum skin stretched your heart too
now in all four corners of the room
the ceiling no longer
concrete wooden floor crumbles
into aftermath of bomb blast you dance
with your grief which is their grief which is
our grief
you dance with your grief which is
their grief which is our grief
you bow
and grief she turns moves air like clouds
there is grace
in the grieving in the dancing in the portal
of your vocal chords diaphragmic breath
in the notes that blossom
and tremble
and fall
bloody petals at Rozana’s feet
I’m not sure if you are still here
but the women before you and the ones that come
after
they all are
Shirin Abedinirad, The Sky Is Mine, 2016. Land art, Semnan, Iran. Presented as part of The Absence of Paths, curated by Lina Lazaar for the Tunisian Pavilion at La Biennale di Venezia, the work draws on Sohrab Sepehri’s line — “Where I am, let it be so — the sky is mine” — to transform the landscape into a meditation on hope, liberation, and belonging. Emerging from what the artist describes as a search “for a place that opens like a window to life, full of joy and possibility,” the installation brings the sky down to earth, rooting dream and reflection in the very ground beneath our feet. Artwork courtesy of featured artist Shirin Abedinirad.
