Aziz Art July 2017

Reza Aramesh
I was born on an early December
morning, in the south-west of
Iran, at a time when everything
was covered with snow.
According to my mother, it was
the easiest labour she has ever
had! I was her fourth child. By the
time the midwife arrived I was
already out. Filled with joy, my
grandmother screamed as she
rushed to open the door with the
news that I was a boy. Assuming
that yet another baby girl was
to be born into the family, they
were not looking forward to my
mother's labour.
I grew up in a very small town,
surrounded by amazing
mountains that were almost
always covered with snow, even
in the midst of the heat of the
summer. Every time I would try to
imagine a way of leaving the town
as fast as possible, my mind would
shut down: I felt that there was no
escape.
I used to spend the summer with
my grandparents, where my bed
was usually prepared in the garden.
This was the perfect place for
dreaming. I would stare at the stars
for hours, feeling that I could
almost touch them. Often, I would
imagine a world so different, miles
away - somewhere new, unfamiliar
and yet very, very exciting.
That childhood refuge in my
grandparent's garden didn't last
very long. The war between Iran
and Iraq was declared and instead
of staring at the stars, my eyes
began to follow the dark smoke
that the warplanes left behind.
In the mid-1980s, I managed to
leave Iran: my aim was to emigrate
to the USA. I was so excited
throughout the journey. At the
same time I was filled with fear: will
I be allowed to enter the country? I
was looking forward to seeing all
those fantastic tall buildings in
close-up. I had even decided I
would not live anywhere below a
25th-floor apartment in New York.