The motivation behind my engagement with collage lies in the act of cutting — a gesture that feels both destructive and liberating. Cutting is not only a technical step but also an emotional release, a way to free stored energy, even anger, and redirect it into creation. Each cut carries both violence and care, opening the possibility for reconstruction. In this sense, collage becomes a cycle of destruction and renewal, allowing fragments to be transformed into new identities.

The very word collage, of French origin, has remained in the Persian language without translation. This persistence suggests a universality, an idea that resonates across cultures. It mirrors my own practice, where fragments from different sources and histories are bound together into a new whole. The true power of collage lies in this act: connecting things that seem unrelated and giving them new meaning. Cutting and reassembling also echoes the feeling of shame — the urge to repair what has been broken, to make amends, and to reimagine it as something whole.

My collages exist between abstraction and figuration, inspired by organic forms and cycles of nature. Working with handmade, recycled, and transparent papers, I construct textured, shifting surfaces, sometimes drawing directly on fragments to blur the line between painting and drawing. These layered compositions reflect memory itself: unstable, overlapping, always in flux.