Parisa Artsits Statement Revised

Parisa Ghaderi

Artist statement

Two Suitcases, all the money you have saved, your loved ones, tears, those who can not come with you, those who always stay on the other side... and then you are going to completely disappear...There is a quote by Emily Dickinson which says “death and distance are the same. Once you are gone, you are gone.”

Distance is physical, emotional, and psychological. It falls into all sorts of categories, and for me it is also paralyzing, heartbreaking, numbing, and nauseating. You feel it every time you are not understood, or when your communication abilities fail. And then you realize all you have heard about being just one phone call away, is a big lie. 

I am interested in emotional and psychological aspect of distance. When home is where you never are, when you get used to things you were afraid of, when you become numb, oblivion becomes part of your everyday life, and you lose control over miles and hours.

I love sharing experiences and stories because I have to trust my ears more than my eyes and believing that everything is always all right on the other side, although they hide their suffering.

With my work, I try to connect to people, by questioning how distance affects them from different ethnicities and how they survive this forever waiting and manage their negative presence in their families.

I read blogs, books and interviews to learn about the proper language for distance. Language has always played a huge role in transforming my feelings into a visual experience. I have passed all those dark moments when I have stumbled over a word or a phrase, or I heard chuckles because of mispronunciation. Not only the words, but also pauses are meaningful to me, especially when I am asked if I’m going to stay or leave. I like that hesitation. It shows that something has changed or maybe grown inside me.

Denial is another part of being distant. There are always small things you don’t want to change, although you have become resilient. You want to resist transforming. Then comes loneliness and solitude. Loneliness makes you strange and your strangeness makes you lonelier.

When I left, I didn’t have a clue of what to expect or how to deal with all these emotions and changes. I’m still not sure why I left or where I end up, but I’m sure this poem by Rachel Wetzsteon says it all:

High above the city, my lips are frozen shut, but my mind is saying, come on and turn your head, and the rest will follow.

Stay where you are, but realize what I went through.

There was so much mist between the dark streets and the familiar landing,

That I never got the views I wanted.