A Love Contained | 2012

It was the summer of 1985 and I was eight years old. I remember my mother’s youngest brother, Uncle Hassan driving me to LAX airport and putting me on the plane to London. I was told that I was going on a short visit to see my father but unbeknown to me, it had been arranged that I would not be returning. My mother, Fereshteh would remain in Mission Viejo, California, living with her mother and younger brothers and I was to be brought up in London by my father Afshin and his younger sister Afsaneh.

For over three decades and since our parting, Fereshteh has been sending me parcels consisting of dried foods, grown in California but typical of Iran. I receive four or five of these packages a year and all our telephone conversations revolve around them. They are often stuck in customs, which gives her a reason to ring everyday to see if they've arrived.

In 2012 I decided to photograph the contents of one of these packages. It marked the end of having them all to myself. Today, as my son and I sit on the sofa, cracking open the pistachios, I remind him that they are from his grandmother who lives in California.