Bibi Mashallah 2023 Acrylic, Ink and Copper Leaf on Pressed Paper Board 30.5 cm x 30.5cm
Photographer: Isabel Turner
This painting is of my grandmother, Bibi Mashallah, it is brought to life through the intricate and repetitive verses of Farsi calligraphy and poetry. The subjects face and headscarf are constructed completely out of a poem by Forugh Farrokhzad, titled, ‘Captive/ اسیر’. A verse from the poems;
O sky, if I want one day
to fly from this silent prison,
what shall I say to the weeping child's eyes:
forget about me, for I am captive bird?
This passage of the poem perfectly mirrors the experiences and sentiments of women and other minorities within Iran. The current Women Life Freedom revolution that arose from the murder of Jina Mahsa Amini, continues to rage on within every city in Iran and globally. The uprising has effected and impacted every Iranian whether in Iran or living within the diaspora, however it is especially difficult for those living and experiencing the everyday atrocities by the IRGC. There is a collective rage and trauma that is felt by every Iranian, we have spent 44 years fighting for our autonomy, freedom, equity, equality and democracy.
This painting reflects an accumulation of shared experiences, dreams, hopes, fails and a lifetime lived by one of the most fiercest and bravest women I know, my Momonbozorg (Grandmother). Born in Mashhad, Iran in 1917, her exact birth date is unknown, Bibi's mother was Kurdish and passed away when my she was only 2. She survived famine, poverty, marginalised prejudice, multiple wars and dictators, gender apartheid and a collapsing country, and somehow managed to birth and raise 13 children all in the process.
To call her strong wouldn’t do her justice, she was fierce and a survivor, when she was in her 70’s, she decided to immigrate to Australia as most of her children relocated here after the revolution in 1979 and the Iran and Iraq war in 1988. She was a grandmother to over 50 children and a great grandmother to even more, her strength and survival taught me to fight for my rights, to persevere, be resilient and to never loose faith even in the most desperate of times. She lived independently until her passing in 2014 at age 97, her body was later taken back to Iran and buried at the shrine for Imam Reza, where she rests in power and peace.
I acknowledge that I am a settler who lives and works on the unceded lands of the Whadjuk Noongar people. I pay my respects to their elders past, present and emerging. Always was and always will be Aboriginal land.