You open your eyes—and suddenly, your world is crushed beneath the weight of a war you never chose. A war so absurd it seems fictional, and yet it is terrifyingly real. A war that's not yours, but still shatters your calm world, brick after brick.

That brick-red chair your grandfather left behind—gone. That little plant you watched for hours, waiting for it to break the soil— and when it finally grew its first delicate leaf, you bought yourself two books, a quiet celebration of life insisting on being born.

Now, all of it lies buried. The blue pinwheel. The wall clock that ticked through countless evenings. The Canon camera with its 35mm rolls, filled with unseen moments. And so many other things— small, “insignificant” things, now entombed beneath the cruel collapse of what humans do to one another.

And yet— you remain. Here. Alive. Atop a mountain made of grief.

P.S. This collection has been inspired by what I experienced as an Iranian citizen in the 12 days Iran-Israel war, 13th to 24th of June, 2025.

["I Used to Live Here" Collection / Yellow Moon Under the Rubble / Cubism Style / Digital Painting / Painted with Fingertips on Smart Phone Screen / Tehran 2025]