Stamps of a Revolution | 2015

In 1979 my parents and I left Iran during The Islamic Revolution. I was two years old when this happened.

Five years on, aged seven and living with my mother in America, I instinctively began to cut out the stamps from the letters and packages that arrived from Iran. I was inspired by my grandmother who would sit next to me cutting and collecting her supermarket coupons. Eventually she would teach me how to soak, peel and finally dry and flatten the stamps. These beautiful little gifts became a direct connection to a place I longed to know for myself.

By 1989, now aged twelve and living with my father in the London, my interest in stamps had dwindled. I had begun secondary school and stamp collecting was no longer on my agenda. I put my album of stamps away on my father’s bookshelf, where it would collect dust for many years, awaiting their rediscovery.