Hena Hanzali Zadeh

Hena Hanzali Zadeh's paintings



    The sleep of the mirrors is heavy

به فارسی بخوانید

On the other side of the mirror glass, a cold layer of mercury is sleeping. The sleep of the mirrors has made the world of images reverse forever
In front of the mirror, we find our ways into the reversed world of imageries
Sometimes we laugh, we stare and sometimes...
No cry has ever woken up the mercury layer... the sleep of the mirrors is so heavy!
The white canvas has become my honest mirror. I believe whatever is inside me finds its form not in the mirror but in the white clothing of my canvas. And, this is enough for me.
For painting I make a bridge, sometimes I swim all my way, following a sound from deep within onto the canvas
The image that forms in front me is a phantasy! But it's not a dream. It’s strange! But it's not a lie.
It is something that I have never seen in the mirrors

   Orchids take away my clothes from the cloth , s string  


it is years that I cultivate seeds on the papers and canvas. The seeds that belong to the time. They have roots of the special moment rubric for me .sometimes  canvas take roots in themselves . they create branches in different lands .the important point is that bloom , facing  your face when you look at them .and your eyes shine in search .sometimes I cultivate seeds that will not grow green , I make them grow .They become creatures that I wanted  they breath the life from the bed of ingrowing . there is a house in my mind that over its walls there is Wall clock hanging .the wooden bird of the Wall clock is waiting for the birth of her chickens , and artificial flower pot on the table has a habited of drinking water .
I wonder  a about  in this city and Thake the breath I have created in mind .
In every corner of this town looking at me. I close my eyes  and take the hand of somebody  and  tell her I want grow  these seeds over and on your head , maybe the Oak tree   , maybe a Bird asleep.
I ask her herself what do you like ? but  I don, t listen to her response , and thrown a handful of colored seeds on her head . and he just looks at me .
I think  that there is the seed of silence among the seeds .
We can  cultivate every thing here : happiness , desire , loneliness , flying , crying , lack of tolerance and even Gloom…..
Tonight  a baby will  be born from the mind of her mother , the mother  that had desired hugging a baby .
Here orchids take away my clothes from the wet clothes string . yesterday  my  shirt was worn by the wild Lily , she took of her roots from  the soil and  escaped .
I have  to recall and  remember to  teach the flight of  mind to the chickens of the  Wall clock.