Home

I began the Home series by thinking about what remains when a house stops being a place to live, when walls are still standing but stability has disappeared and a familiar space becomes unstable.

These photographs show spaces shaped by absence. People are no longer visible, but their presence remains in the scale of the rooms and in what has been left unfinished. The spaces sit between what was lived and what cannot return.

The houses still stand, but they are no longer lived in. Nature enters slowly. Plants grow through cracks and spread across floors and walls. Their presence feels possible, even natural, yet slightly out of place. They appear not as decoration or renewal, but as an effect of absence and forced departure. The spaces no longer seem to belong fully to human life.

My understanding of home was shaped by growing up in Iran during and after the Iran–Iraq War. I learned early that buildings can remain standing while lives disappear. This experience continues to shape how I think about abandonment, displacement, and fragile belonging.

In Home, these spaces become quiet witnesses to migration and loss. Nature remains after people leave, occupying what has been emptied. What has been lived there stays behind, becoming part of the space, unseen but impossible to remove.