Iran

The tension between more than 70% of the Iranians who are under 30 years old and the so called "islamic" regime and its fanatic representatives raised over the past 30 years steadily but certainly. Those young people fought in loud silence for their rights. One could feel this tension and all I was waiting for was the last straw...No one expected this moment now. No one was prepared.

In several cities of Iran, the main streets are painted red with the blood of those innocents who were suffering since they were born - free spirits and their bodies the prisoners of an inhuman system.

Everyday students are beaten like dogs, shot and many died on the streets without any chance of surviving. Bodies disappear from the hospitals without even being identified by the staff. Parents are waiting at home, not knowing that they can wait forever. Cars are burning, people are crying, yelling, praying...And outside of Iran people are marching, asking for peace and for justice.

This regime is the one that caused the depression of more than 3 generations. Grandparents suffered, seeing their country being turned upside down to the worst. Parents were forced to leave a country that they loved. And thousands of children of the exile Iranians, the 3rd generation, do not know where they belong to anymore or where home is. They are foreigners in Iran and foreigners everywhere else leading to the confusion and partly loss of identity of a great culture. Those who didn´t left are bleeding today. Those who are outside are bleeding with them.

International phone calls made from Iran are not going through. Social networks on the internet were shut down several times. Even the international correspondants are repressed.

All I know is that this government won´t stop shooting. Stopping it, would mean to admit. Admitting would mean change. Change would mean a loss of power.

The people won´t stop marching and protesting, as with every single body that lost its life through the bloody hands of the government, peoples 30 year old anger turns to rage and their rage will lead to change.

Those young brave people, who are not afraid of loosing their lifes anymore, are the heroes of our generation and deserve international help and support.

Art

Art is a strong magnet with infinite faces - always new and unpredictable. An Artist is a creator on his own, making use of his ability to bring his thoughts to a thick essence of life that is universal - a channel inviting to a new path. And although Art can be born in any form, we can call it by only one name. Just like the word Love - there are no synonyms for Art. One word that embraces it all. One word that says it all.

Children of Art are desirable magnets: admired, envied, observed - a source of energy, brave sensibility and a source of world understanding in a wordless language that will remain for many unseen, ignored, invisible or avoided.

Artists shine by creating their own sun, regardless what the sun might mean to most of us. And like vampires who crave blood, others will run towards them, tanning in an Artist sun, not realizing that they are standing in the shade...