I make work that gives physical form to the memories and feelings that remain in the body.

My work usually begins with a long thought or with noticing a particular feeling that stays with me. I return to memories and ordinary moments, trying to understand why they remain and how they continue to live in the body. As this search develops, it gradually takes physical form. Through sculpture, photography, drawing, and text, I explore how an inner experience can become visible through a gesture, an expression, or the shape of an object.

Making has been part of my life since childhood. I drew, built, cut, rearranged, and created with whatever I could find, wherever I was. During my school years, I spent many summers studying drawing and sketching. Later, photography taught me to observe more closely: to notice almost invisible details, subtle gestures, changes in expression, and the moment when something felt inside becomes visible on the surface.

At the end of my teenage years, I first worked with ceramic clay, and since then I have not been able to take my hands away from it. Clay allows me to think through touch. It bends under pressure, carries every mark, and passes through fire while preserving evidence of what has happened to it. Like the body, it can be vulnerable and resistant at the same time. It holds the memory of the forces that have shaped it.

Growing up in Iran, and later leaving home and moving to Sweden, has shaped many of the questions within my practice and the way I understand the body. I see the body not only as something personal, but also as a place where history, culture, gender, and power leave their traces. In my work, it becomes a meeting point between private memories and larger social forces: the control and censorship of women’s bodies, shame and resistance, belonging and longing, and the desire to be seen.

My work begins with my own experiences, but it does not end there. I want each piece to leave space for another person to wonder and recognise something of their own: a memory, a tension, a longing, or a story that has not yet been spoken.