Selected Works

This work explores the intersection of diasporic identity and material culture. By referencing the vernacular of ancient textiles, the paintings function as maps of displacement. The surface is rigorously sanded to achieve a flatness that denies the painterly gesture, mimicking the weave of the textile itself. This reductive process serves as a metaphor for the erosion of memory, questioning what it means to belong in a transitory state.

The painting captures a transition defined not by arrival, but by the lingering presence of what is being lost. Draped in a cold, spectral palette, the work illustrates a mass exodus where the "past life" isn’t simply left behind—it haunts the very air the travelers breathe. The muted colors suggest a world losing its saturation, as if the reality of home is dissolving into a ghostly abstraction.

The painting captures a vibrant yet fractured landscape where the brightness of the palette masks a profound sense of loss. Through sharp curves and lines, the composition severs the vital connection between people and their domestic anchors, leaving pets and houses behind as static echoes of a discarded life. Meanwhile, burdened creatures move forward with packages strapped to their backs, carrying the physical fragments of "home" into a future defined more by what has been lost than by where they are going.

By blurring the lines between past and present, Absence of Goodbye traps its subjects in a haunted, timeless reality. The visual framework boxes in every figure—human and pet alike—physically separating them to emphasize a profound sense of isolation and total displacement. Without a definitive farewell, "home" becomes a ghostly void, leaving these fragmented figures to mourn a future that was stolen before it could begin.

The Burning Trace visualizes the specter of a lost past through a saturated, textile-inspired vernacular. The repetitive caravan motifs act as archival ghosts, traversing a landscape where the past actively haunts the present. Ultimately, the work suggests that displacement is not a finished history, but a recursive condition that leaves an indelible mark on the here and now.

In this work, the vibrant woven plane serves as a site where memory is both a structure and a fragment. The figures drift through a hauntological landscape, suggesting a sense of home that is carried as an internal archive rather than a physical place. It is a material archive of absence, where the sanded texture of the linen invites us to touch the persistence of a world left behind

Exile does not just depict the act of leaving a place; it illustrates the internal landscape of someone who no longer belongs anywhere. It is a study of the weightless feeling of being cast out from one's foundation.

This work is dominated by a frantic, saturated red that suggests a state of permanent emergency rather than a welcoming landscape.The narrow, turquoise paths serve as metaphors for an unstable existence where there is no flat ground to stand on. These roads do not lead toward progress; they loop and twist, trapping the figures in a "hectic" state of perpetual transition.

At the center of this work, the primary enclosure acts as a material archive of absence, holding the remnants of home, companions, and nature. This space suggests that memory is both a structure and a fragment a hauntological map of a life left behind. By framing these figures within the architectonic grid of the textile, the painting explores the persistence of a world that is no longer reachable, yet still carried.

This piece serves as a vivid exploration of social atomization and the "slow cancellation of the future." While the palette is deceptively bright, the vibrant reds and turquoises create a high-contrast environment that feels more like a fever dream or a simulation than a lived reality.

This landscape is a mental space of nostalgia, where a vivid red "retinal burn" signifies a blurred but enduring memory. It balances the pain of loss with the warmth of what remains.

Sharp, curvy lines impose a forced isolation, partitioning people, nature, and pets into a fragmented world. Amidst this, Persian motifs and turquoise accents act as ghosts of the past. The cycle of transition is embodied by animals in constant migration, carrying the weight of their history toward a home that remains perpetually out of reach.

This painting illustrates the violent arrival of a lost future. The turquoise expanse is a site of haunting, where the organic world (people, pets, and nature) hangs in a state of limbo, suspended between a vanishing past and a terrifyingly empty destiny. The four red shapes act as invasive specters; they are the "promising" yet hollow vessels of a new era, forcing their way into the frame and leaving the inhabitants with no choice but to be absorbed into their sterile, isolated geometry.

In this work, the linear progression of time has collapsed. This is a world defined by the "slow cancellation of the future," where the past, present, and future are no longer a sequence, but a tangled web of spectral fragments. The painting represents the trauma of the severed root. Without an anchor of origin or the pulse of nature, the inhabitants are cast into a hauntological vacuum. They are suspended in a tangle of times where the past is a blur, the present is a waiting room, and the future is a ghost that has already departed.

This work suggests that nostalgia is a haunting force. The woman is trapped in a loop: she cannot move forward because she is staring at a playful simulation of what she has lost, while the actual remnants of that life (the pets and nature at the bottom) continue to drift away in a cold, entropic haze.

The Resonant Weave suggests that the past is not silent, but continues to vibrate through the present like a visual echo. The rhythmic patterns and textile-like surface capture the humming energy of a distant dwelling, interlacing a history that refuses to fade with the tangible reality of the canvas.

This work is about the land that is abandoned, but its "ghost" the idealized version of home remains an inescapable presence. Through a hazy, cold-toned atmosphere, the work illustrates the blurring of time. The subjects are not living in the "now," but in a chilled, suspended state of memory.

The women are encased in geometric containers, representing the modern architecture of isolation. These boxes signify the "compartmentalization" of grief the way we carry our lost histories within rigid, lonely boundaries even when surrounded by the vastness of what we’ve lost. We are never truly "home-free," but tethered to the spectres of places that no longer exist trapped in a longing for a future that was never allowed to happen.

This work deals with the idea that the present is haunted by "lost futures" and the persistent, ghostly return of a past that no longer exists. By utilizing a saturated, deep red palette, the painting creates an atmospheric "non-place" where the trauma of displacement is felt not as a physical journey, but as a permanent state of being between worlds.

The three large diamond shapes represent the rigid, cold structures of temporal barriers. These shapes function as psychological containers that separate the "now" from the "then." Their sharp, imposing presence dictates where memory is allowed to reside, creating a fragmented reality where the subject is partitioned off from their own history.

The painting explores the "nostalgia for things that never were" (or things we can no longer prove were real). Because the recall is fragmented, the figures are stripped of their identity, becoming archetypal ghosts. The figures and shapes within the boxes are defined by their lack of definition. Each box acts as a Vault of Lost Signals, holding a version of home that is "out of joint," existing in a perpetual state of disappearing without ever being fully gone

In this painting, the figures, animals, and dwellings are suspended in a bright, amber-like stillness, much like a memory frozen at the moment of impact. This "paused" state is the hallmark of the canceled future. Usually, an ancestral home is a place where generations move forward, where children grow to inhabit the small orange houses and carry the culture into the next century. Here, that progression has been severed; the timeline has been cut, leaving the land to exist only in a state of "what might have been.

The two lions in the center are the most tragic figures of this stillness. In the traditional Persian context, they should be the fierce Shir, the protectors of the crown, the soil, and the divine Khvarenah. But here, their presence is paradoxical.

The painting operates in the "future-past." It is not a nostalgic look at a happy memory; it is a hauntological look at the persistence of that memory in a world where it no longer fits. The subjects are not "lost" in the traditional sense—they are simply existing in the space between what was and what will never be again.

This piece refuses to provide a floor. By keeping the subjects floating, forcing the viewer to experience the same vertigo felt by those who long for a home that is "nowhere near."

At the heart of the canvas sits layers of diamond. They represents a claustrophobic geometry of isolation. The sharp angles and rigid borders act as a transparent prison, a "non-place" where the exile is suspended, visible to the world but fundamentally separated from it.

The intensity of the color palette reflects the psychic noise of displacement. These are not the soft hues of nostalgia, but the hyper-saturated, polarizing tones of a life lived under extreme duress.

At the bottom, the faceless figure, is the ultimate cost of the Hauntological weight the erasure of the self.

This painting functions as an exploration of hauntological displacement, where "home" is no longer a physical location but a temporal anomaly. It depicts a domesticity that has become anachronic existing stubbornly outside of its proper chronological era.

This painting functions as an exploration of hauntological displacement, where "home" is no longer a physical location but a temporal anomaly. It depicts a domesticity that has become anachronic—existing stubbornly outside of its proper chronological era.

This painting functions as an exploration of hauntological displacement, where "home" is no longer a physical location but a temporal anomaly. It depicts a domesticity that has become anachronic—existing stubbornly outside of its proper chronological era.

The composition centers on a space that is fundamentally invisible to the present eye; it is a "non-place" constructed entirely from the shadows of what has already occurred. Rather than a clear architectural rendering, the work captures the presence of an absence, where the atmosphere is thick with the weight of "lost futures" and the lingering sensory residue of the past.

This painting functions as an exploration of hauntological displacement, where "home" is no longer a physical location but a temporal anomaly. It depicts a domesticity that has become anachronic—existing stubbornly outside of its proper chronological era.

This painting functions as an exploration of hauntological displacement, where "home" is no longer a physical location but a temporal anomaly. It depicts a domesticity that has become anachronic—existing stubbornly outside of its proper chronological era.

This painting functions as an exploration of hauntological displacement, where "home" is no longer a physical location but a temporal anomaly. It depicts a domesticity that has become anachronic—existing stubbornly outside of its proper chronological era.

This painting functions as an exploration of hauntological displacement, where "home" is no longer a physical location but a temporal anomaly. It depicts a domesticity that has become anachronic—existing stubbornly outside of its proper chronological era.

The composition centers on a space that is fundamentally invisible to the present eye; it is a "non-place" constructed entirely from the shadows of what has already occurred.

The large, aggressive boundary lines serve as an ontological divide. These borders do not merely delineate a room, but quantify the growing distance between the viewer's current existence and the receding memory of "living." In this work, the home is a phantom—a site where the past refuses to vanish, yet the present fails to fully take root.

This painting functions as an exploration of hauntological displacement, where "home" is no longer a physical location but a temporal anomaly. It depicts a domesticity that has become anachronic—existing stubbornly outside of its proper chronological era.

Shadows of Presence functions as a structural map of temporal distance, where the physical composition dictates the emotional weight of time. Unlike a traditional landscape, the canvas is defined by expansive boundaries and stark lines that serve as geometric markers between the "now" and the "then."

This painting functions as an exploration of hauntological displacement, where "home" is no longer a physical location but a temporal anomaly. It depicts a domesticity that has become anachronic—existing stubbornly outside of its proper chronological era.

This painting functions as an exploration of hauntological displacement, where "home" is no longer a physical location but a temporal anomaly. It depicts a domesticity that has become anachronic—existing stubbornly outside of its proper chronological era.

This painting functions as an exploration of hauntological displacement, where "home" is no longer a physical location but a temporal anomaly. It depicts a domesticity that has become anachronic existing stubbornly outside of its proper chronological era.

This painting functions as an exploration of hauntological displacement, where "home" is no longer a physical location but a temporal anomaly. It depicts a domesticity that has become anachronic—existing stubbornly outside of its proper chronological era.

The painting Fragment of What Was serves as a visual manifestation of atemporality the state where the boundaries between past, present, and future dissolve into one another. Rather than a linear timeline, the work presents time as a blurred, overlapping experience where the "now" is inseparable from the echoes of what has already occurred.

This painting functions as an exploration of hauntological displacement, where "home" is no longer a physical location but a temporal anomaly. It depicts a domesticity that has become anachronic—existing stubbornly outside of its proper chronological era.

Despite the cheer, there is a profound sense of mourning; the painting represents a "now" that was never allowed to happen.

The upside down people amidst bubbles floating everywhere, signals the ghost of a place a destination you are barred from entering, existing now only as a persistent, flickering ache in the mind.

A home defined not by its walls, but by the hollow space it left behind. It is a beautiful, cruel reminder of a paradise that is only permitted to exist within the safety of a faded daydream.

This expansive, atmospheric work functions as a portal to a residence that exists entirely outside of time. Rather than depicting a functional living space, the painting captures the lingering presence of a phantom architecture—a home built from the "lost futures" and half-remembered dreams of a life that never actually occurred.