I was born in Ahvaz, Iran, a city that still carries the memory of the 1980–88 war. Dresden, where I now live, is also a place where memories of war remain present.

I follow ongoing events in Iran from a distance through videos and images: skies filled with smoke, the sound of explosions, and brief messages such as “2:05 a.m., an explosion was heard.”

Instead of choosing an image of destruction, I searched for one that evokes something remembered. To me, this child appears not to be looking at us from the past, but from the future. I extracted his face from a screenshot: from a crowd of large bodies, movements, and voices, a boy looks directly into the camera. The details of his face almost completely dissolve; what remains are only the rough shape, the eyes, and the gaze.

For this work, I used the technique of photo transfer. The image is first printed, then broken into fragments and reassembled. The finished piece was then photographed again and printed as the banner in front of which you are now standing. In this process, ruptures, displacements, and traces of the image remain visible.

For me, this loss of clarity and the repeated reproduction of the image are connected to memory, distance, war, and communication from afar.