Anticipation for the Sunrise - Hana Hozhabr Pour

Mixed-media paintings on found acrylic sheets and canvases.

300 x 250 x 22 cm

118 x 98 x 90 Inch

The sun in my forehead

I close e my eyes, to be able to imagine you, as a sun that appears in my forehead.

The symphony of ballad separates me from you.
It takes a few minutes again to be able to concentrate on the sounds of your instrument, that tried to make a barricade to harmonize what between us.

I remember that there was always a barrier in your journey,

Never allowed to be seen

Never allowed to be heard.

I poured a drop of purple on my soul

to remember your isolation

I swear that the beauty of your hair stands in front of death....

It is a gesture for hidden truths, for which there is no space here.

I swear that the barricade you tried to build,

was not for a ‘secured’ geography

but documenting life and your pain

not for a region or religion,

but for us and them.
For whatever is between us that is sinking in the air.

For those who didn’t have space but have fragmented memories.

Because of their skin color, because of our skin color.

because of their gender, because of water’s gender.

They are pushed against the walls; we are pushed against the border,

I saw it with my naked eyes.

I am thinking how I can join the barricade
But something rejects me, like the rejection of a form

I tried to act and then think

I tried to think and then act

Translate an idea or a thought to be an object

Necessary thought to be thought
To be able to be liquid
To be able to move,
to be able to act.
To act and then breath
Or take a deep breath and then act.
Sketching from the beginning again and again Colures are running against each other,
I am trying to take a short breath.
Let them breathe. Let them speak just as short as a short breath.

I need to draw a direct line to connect me with the women of the sun land

Colourful like your Queer soul

Like life full of everything

Like free form of dancing,

light, small but effective
a small fluid gesture, but every single day. like a drop of water.
we split the maps, we break the borders, where we are punished for that.

Splitting the map Splitting the clothes

Daily exercises
Against all the forced wired lines

How can we move lighter? Where can I find the lightness?

You inspire me to write as much as I could on every page
On every stone
I asked for the sunrise
You inspire me to install a bubble
To anticipate the sunrise.

I tried to find our roots but this time not in the soil Maybe in the sky.

These works speak of holding barricades against oppressors in times of crises; spontaneous and organic gestures which suggest the possibility of new habits of resistance against a machinery system that throws the circles away from the center of everything. The circles symbolize a removed people, while through the fragmented layers of gesture and deconstructed structures, the Sun also stands as the origin, unity, and a liquid form inside rigid structures.

TOKORANTO -2024