Closer, within the language

Plant, chair, figure, surface, line, space. The deep co-existence which make the painter needless of the lingual failure through the passage of time; peace and chaos have come together, real and fantastical, entangle, object and geometry have lost their boundaries and the image has become an opportunity to make a contrast, but it goes on in accordance with it. Closer, within the language, twisted and straight, quiet and, motion and standstill, have attached together. Motion; as if suddenly a wind has blown and the implication of a beloved has dragged the object towards the limitations of the geometry. Like a cry overhung in the air, and standstill; the position of the object is appropriate, the lazuli tincture on the chair’s fabric is in peace with the tender blue of the sky, and tranquility has taken over.

How come this rational world, this sufficiency of geometry and object does not happen to have a shadow? This solidity of the artless areas, I say this grows out of the allusive look of the painter towards the objects and not the enthusiasm for the photographed representation of the world before him which he is satisfied with the joy of the nemesis. Yes indeed, might be an inhibition in this, and a vanity in that, or may be this enthusiasm provides a chance, and so does the inhibition. That opportunity which bring subjectivity and objectivism together, an attachment which builds it’s house on the same ( borders) rational and emotional, the line between the amnesia and rumination, between the voice and silence.

Does the blue - air of the painter’s curtains carries silence (all alone in the crowded world))? It could be supposed that inside his studio, before he put the painting brush into the dye, he has made up his mind, then has imagined the main areas and given them color. Or maybe the time which he has set an area or object on the canvas, that arranged abounding of the world-gradually or on a flick- has faded away and organized, as if someone is engaged in a prayer on his own way. Whatever it might be, although the painter lives is world of unite language, his manners and styles are on the swing. Every image’s nature, albeit all the simplicity, is denotative of the chaos or order of his mind. yet, the painter’s images are lucid (it can be thought that how easily the color water of has crossed through the silken pores of the printer cliché) these images could come through a closed door, but they are animated when on the inside, become the life itself, once again are illustrative of all the life’s contradictions.

Vahid Hakim