What I recall most dearly and vividly is 
the land,
the mountains,
the winding roads,

and the thrilling bumpy rides
in my dad's jeep...

I remember the fruit trees
and how I would climb them
up and down,

and all the picnic outings in the rolling fields,

and my mother with all her
fierce independence...

It is the land I desire to see
and to touch...
The land brings us together and it separates us.

In essence we are all aliens...

Looking at these photographs from long ago

all the packed away
memories begin to unravel

and I question the actuality of the events.

I question emotional
and sensory memories.

What is reality and what is fiction --
the nature of history and how we tell it.

My mother and I in Kurdish costumes on the rooftop by the mountains in Kurdistan, 1960.


Ladder to the roof, Bijar, 1958
In Kurdish costume,
Saqqiz, 1960.

Age three, dressed in my girl scout uniform
on a day of community service,
Main Circle, Saqqiz, 1961

These photographs were taken by my mother's cousin in Kurdistan, Iran, 1958-61. They were kept by my mother and sent to me recently.

Arezoo, Artist living in New York City, April 1998.