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Download PDF Morning Mirror : آیینه‌ی صبح

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Out of fire of regret Though you burnt Me, yet Out ot patience Made an iron heart Like that of cold look of you Of early Fall's winds, I fear, as if; And each time Closing the wonder's home And sobs' lips of my own I sink into despair, On the wall's heart corner; Collapses, each season Over my alone branches Eyes' Fall's indifference of you Smilingly, I was asking your address Neighbors said: "Years ago, he went to sea, Noone gave any more news of him" I'm nearing your house, Calling you, I knock the door It's raining, Yet it's raining Ketika yg lelaki lebih feminim dari yg gadis.. Aisyah Fakhry loveforever.

When the other buds flourish, we'd go Now, do come to trim the line of lawn! Let from your finger tips, A hundred drop, drip Each drop becomes a sun, May out of a hundred needles of light Becomes honeycombed, Our night What to say? Whether two or three Are this heart's sorrows?

Disturbed me, a hair Disturbed me, From a long time ego; You soul, o! When to, I roam around? You pretty, dream o!

Whether do return Or, give me back that heart! Whether sit down Or put this fire out! Despaird of sea, the boat Sat by the shore Lonely and bored Lucky that breeze, Which, a scent of beloved hair brings! A news from compassionate beloved, To lover brings! Lucky that one which takes, A hello to that clime!

Then from there brings, A message to this clime! From beloved, I intendedly separate not Who to oneself, intendedly, blight brings? That black cloud Yet's flying in the sky Of weather, I fear not For, I have your love As my own umbrella; Your love's a dove, Flying at my eyes, At the door of my heart's home Out of boredom, it does knock It's come under the rain Though soaked, and now trembling, One by one, It searches my whole homes of heart The plastic trees were taken from an old board game called The Secret of the Jungle.

At the bottom there are pictures of different objects which are necessary to discover the secrets of this jungle. So that as Plato had an imagination, that all knowledge was but remembrance; so Solomon giveth his sentence, that all novelty is but oblivion.

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Perhaps the excitement of the discovery of the unexpected would inevitably be auspicious: no discoverer sets out on his journey in quest of luck and serendipity. Purposefully wandering off the beaten track, he will tread down so many fruitless roads. Searches are left unfinished and often seem pointless. Would it still be worth looking for if it was not strange and mysterious?

Drifting apart from the familiarity of everyday experiments with these unfamiliar images, we step into a familiar vagueness. They contain a general vagueness that nevertheless contains information of a particular yet peculiar entity, balanced curiously on the edge.

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Without imagination we are threatened by a danger so much graver than the perils of imagining the seemingly unattainable. Humanity is in constant struggle.

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This is inevitably reflected in our environment. Of all the generations before us, we are suffering the worst consequences of the deeds of our predecessors. All of our achievements, whether scientific or technological, were supposed to help us live better, more profound and fulfilled lives.

But all of these endeavours have backfired. Our progress has cost us and is progressively taking its toll on our planet. Modern man can single-handedly do more harm to nature than a thousand men of old ever could. And he does. Modernity will not stop until it has trodden all nature down under its colossal wheels.

I look at everything, and everything goes in and gets ground up very fine. Images are regenerated within me.

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I access the layers of subconscious and unconscious in my psyche, translating them onto a sheet of steel. It also leaves enough space for accidents. Every detail gives birth to another: the whole creative process is exhilarating. Considering reality, it would appear that things happen by chance. The scientific attempt to discover this leads to even more mystery, which in turn makes it all the more exciting. I am intrigued by this mystery, the continuation of which guarantees this fascination. If the parts of a work are put on the border of connection and disconnection to both itself and others a constant oscillation will occur.

These works are a continuation of my earlier series, dealing with the same questions. During the process of preparing this work, however, I took an interest in certain traditions of scientific illustration, and consequently, began collecting scientific books from the past centuries to study their illustrations. A scientific illustrator is capable of depicting the inside and the outside of things simultaneously, and even reconstructing the forgotten points as curious and meticulous details.

Therefore, scientific illustrations, unlike photography, can be unrealistic. Modern man is like someone on a jet ski, zipping along the surface of the water, quenching his thirst for excitement. Before this, however, man used to dive into deep waters in search of precious pearls. Is this a lost art or an exciting evolution in the midst of the tumultuous waves of information and progress? The artist considered himself to be the contained, and nature, the container of his existence.

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These present works have an intricate appearance that stems from the convolutions of that relationship. In order to find answers, the human mind begins to experiment with different ideas, accomplishing many things in order to explore and represent the inside as well as the outside.

While contemplating in the profoundness of the relationship between the self and existence nature , however, it comes across congestions and disorders. The more it plunges itself into the depths of its meditation upon where it is and what it is doing, the more it has to juxtapose various structures and images to define its position inside existence nature. In this quest, man has returned to his inwardness, exploring and portraying it, and then, in order to control the outer world, he began to make intellectual and experiential mechanisms to bring life and the world into line with his desires and ambitions.

Gradually, however, while constructing this new world, man became oblivious.

He was submerged by the lure of industrial life, walking further down the path of destruction, forgetting the same existence by which he used to consider himself to be contained. He came to the point where he was dissatisfied with this self-made existence, so he felt the urge to go back.

But there was no turning back. All he could do was to look back, from the present moment to the past, from the deep waters to the inside; only endeavoring to return to the world of mind and to nature, i. He was no longer able to deindustrialise his industrialised existence. What remained was an awareness that he had forgotten his relationship to existence itself.

This imagination is neither ecstasy nor illusion. It is, rather, a turning back to the self in order to remember the origin of man and existence. It is an understanding and feeling the self as an organic whole, and considering it as unified with the greater organism of nature. In the works of Amir-Nasr, an intricate, interwoven, even disorderly structure is depicted. The relationship between a mind concerned with, and yearning for, nature, and a disturbed, neutralised mind that has been drowned in the excesses of industrialised everydayness.

A mind caught up in the struggle to survive, which is a far cry from a genuine passion for life. A mind that has been wrestling with forgetfulness over the course of its existence and now, having to encounter its consequences, finds its only way of escape is in forgetting the status quo.

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Passing through the current forgetfulness by harboring oblivion! It was through these books that I learned about photography.

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I started with photos of my friends in their bedrooms, which resulted in The Girls series. I wanted to echo their personalities through the colours of their walls and belongings. Then, when I created In Wakefulness, I took photos of girls who had been suddenly woken up by me. After that I chose to focus on the way in which women like to be seen and how others would like to see women.

In HappyVille I show the moment brides come out of a beauty salon on their wedding day, ready to face an adventure. In my photographs I try to show my personal experiences and the relationship between myself and my subjects. The way they look at me as a woman, a friend, a stranger, a teacher and as a photographer. HappyVille Women visit beauty salons on their wedding days. Ironically, they do so in order to distance themselves from themselves. They want to achieve a desired image that people expect from a bride. As I aim to visualise women who are in my age group, through imagery taken from situations in which they want to show their beauty, I visited a beauty salon.

This time, my subject was the moment the bride walks out of the salon and faces people; facing others with a different personal appearance. Ecstatic, anxious and clueless about what is awaiting them, they stand in front of my camera for a moment. These images that are then published on a greater scale than their actual size.

People want the idealised image: a photograph of themselves looking their best.