Vitruvius, the Roman architect, used the word Street for the first time and by describing its sceneries, divided urban sites into three categories: Tragic, Comic, and Satiric. In Tehran’s continual turmoil, the scenery is more tragic rather than satiric. My relation with the city is always turning into a complex, as long as I am moving in the street and its sights, tragic or comic, fades away with no pause. I find shelter among the walls of my house, and leave behind the sad turmoil of Tehran in the heart of its streets. My imagination is trapped among the books which have covered the walls of my apartment. Each day, we the urban travelers leave our imaginations and dreams in our houses, and without finding any perception in the tragic, comic, and satiric scenery of Tehran, along with other fellow passengers, pass through the streets, so fast that we forget the route, considering only our beginning and destination. Streets have become a place for overtaking not for contemplating. A place which is uncommunicative, rather than being our collective life story. It can be a place to overlap our personal imaginations to form the collective memory of the city.
Hereon, I step into the city. I make my personal moment public. I read books. I intermix my imaginations with the city. I sit in front of the camera and for a moment I freeze myself among my own imaginations; maybe it would make us stop for a moment and find our relation with each other. It might make the streets a place for contemplation and communication, and extend the spirit of the city.