One of those familiar forms that gives you a sense of unfamiliarity, probably because of half a century of presence. It is not a new idea or a new form, rather a juxtaposition of words that are painted next to one another. Continual injection of Iranian-Arabic script into the forms of our art. A repeated repetition throughout these years.

On such canvases, the highest level of change, is the fluidity or rigidity of  forms of words and angles. Sometimes there is someone to juxtapose words according to a meaningful arrangement, that’s all.  These sometimes are  better times. But is a word not a good excuse? It is good to be in touch with words. The word can gain colour and compensate for the colourless world of these days of ours. I think when we speak of words, repetition is meaningless. Particularly a repetition with half a century of presence.