A contrail that erases itself while a suitcase unzips light, and a set of photographs made on my first flight from Iran to the U.S., where my hand presses to the window or makes recognisable or abstract gestures in response to embodied, mixed feelings toward the place I was leaving behind. The prints take on the rhythm of adjacent airplane windows: a row of seats turned into a row of views.
I read these as my first step toward the non-writing method that I later explored and continue to develop.