To save. A term I dream of unconditionally in reality, winding through the deep, twisted shapes of consciousness. Every night before sleep, I think of it. The savior. What a seductive word!
Deities whose temple is invisible, while believers continuously perform rituals unaware of its true presence. That god has no icon and no manifestation. Well, perhaps a manifestation.
In Self-Portrait and Other Ruins, Ghazal Ramzani inscribes her body into a genealogical continuum of female memory, treating it as a living architecture where the
