You’ve just returned from 7 months of traveling through Iran, a country that is home but is also foreign in some ways. Tell us about the experience of being at this crossroads of your identity as you embarked on your journey?

I have to say that I didn’t realize I was at this crossroads until a few weeks after arriving in Iran. I suppose it was inevitable. Ever since I immigrated to the US, I’ve had this romanticized relationship with Iran. It was taken from me at such a young age that my desire to be part of it again has always existed. I missed the country, the culture, the crafts, the cinema, the people. I wanted to know more as I grew older and wanted to share it with others around me; to Iranians and non-Iranians alike. 

To find myself back in Iran at 39 working on a project that blends my love of arts and design with storytelling, the craft of the women weavers, and the passion that I have for this country — a coming together of the many parts of who I am — it all seemed like it was predestined. 
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Was going to Iran a healing process for you?

I think that’s what I was hoping for. I moved to America when I was 11 years old. Up until my 30s I was so heartbroken to be here, I felt like something was robbed of me without my input. Obviously being here in America did so much for my life, but I always had a chip on my shoulder about being here. I harbor so much love for Iran that each time I returned from trips there, I would spend weeks crying. It was very hard on me. I tried moving back there for a year and I didn’t last. When my heart and emotions for Iran get involved I become a little erratic and I make nonsensical choices —  they’re like a trigger point for me. I finally came to the realization that I had to cut some strings to be able to fully live my life, because I couldn’t fully live here and I couldn’t fully live there; it was a very unfair situation for myself. 

Going back this time around was different. I was able to work while there, which I hadn’t done before. This helped put things into perspective on whether I could actually make a life there. After months of seeing beautiful things, and also seeing awful things, I realized it was not possible for me. I had yearned and romanticized Iran for so long, but on this trip I was able to cut the strings that kept pulling me back. Iran will always be something that’s part of me, but coming to that realization was healing, in the sense that I was finally able to close that chapter; it helped me let go. 

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Not many people have the courage you had to uproot themselves and dive deeply into the trenches of embarking on a solo project, venturing to off the grid places, and doing it all without a definitive timeline.  How did you step into the mindset of chasing your journey and redefining your life?

I was unfulfilled in what I was doing before I uprooted myself. I knew that I deserved to give myself time to figure out what makes me happy, to explore other things; a sabbatical year of some sort if you will. I knew that even if I spent the year doing “nothing” — hanging around, traveling — that it would have served its own purpose in a way, but my type A personality made it challenging for me to just be. Unshackling myself from a 9-to-5 job gave me the space, energy, and mental capacity to finally work on a project for myself. What it was going to be remained unclear, but I was ready and excited to see where this would take me.

If things didn’t work out, returning to a job in design was always an option. The one-year sabbatical turned into two years, and I’ve done more work than I’ve ever done in my whole life. (laughs) What I needed to accomplish, what the project goals were, knowing all of this before my arrival to Iran helped. As far as redefining my life, I don’t know how much redefining of my life I’ve done (laughs). I’m still in the process.

How did you allow yourself to listen to your intuition to take this time off? 

Financial security played a huge role. I was intending to buy an apartment and was in search of one for 10 months and the process began to wear me out. The responsibilities that came along with buying a place, being locked into a position financially and in a job I was so unhappy at felt suffocating. Owning a house was low on the totem pole of what mattered to me. My health issues around this time worsened, to no surprise, and after years of chronic pain I had a major surgery which gave me another layer of perspective of what mattered most. Ultimately, I knew that I would be happier allocating a portion of this money to give myself time to figure things out. I worked hard and earned the privilege of being able to do this. 

I also trusted myself and leaned into knowing that throughout the years I’ve always made it work. I moved to NY with no money, no job, and cut off from my parents. I worked hard to get to where I was in my career and to be where I am as an independent woman. I trusted my abilities, I trusted that I was going to figure it out for myself. I didn’t know how, and it’s still unclear to me, but I trust that something will materialize, whatever that may be.

In coming to this juncture, did you have to learn how to be kinder to yourself, to allow yourself the freedom to explore and discover something different that would make you happy?

Definitely. This was by no means an overnight decision. I had to learn through therapy, through so many other self healing activities; how to be kinder to myself and to know that I was deserving of this time for myself without guilt.

You have a successful career. What was missing? 

Passion was missing. For as long as I can remember, people would say “You should do something that you are passionate about, especially as it relates to your career.” I always had a difficult time with this concept because I couldn’t find what that passion was for me. I struggled with the idea that if you didn’t have passion for what you were doing or have that one thing you were passionate about in your life, it meant that you were failing. To spend your life searching for this passion is very loaded, there are so many ways that you could fail at it.

During this time when I was burnt out and was thinking of what to do next in life, I listened to a TED podcast where the speaker talked about self soothing, how as kids we learned to self soothe through certain activities or games. It talked about looking back to when you were a kid, and trying to recall what you did to self-soothe. Whatever that was could maybe benefit you in the present. For me, it was always drawing that made me happy. Suddenly I realized that ever since I was a kid, I had been passionate about anything within the realm of art and design. 

When I first became a designer I was, to a large extent, restricted to following other people's aesthetics and visions, and overtime this source of happiness became murky for me. I was content, but I knew that wasn’t enough for me. I turned something that was so meaningful to my core into a job that made me feel hollow. I couldn’t take pride in what I was doing.
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What did you have to let go to allow yourself the liberty to explore and discover?

I was afraid. I was afraid of what the reality might be after taking “time off”. That after this experience and in pursuing this passion project, I would have somehow wasted time and come out of it with nothing. Nothing to show, nothing to tangibly say this was the culmination of it all. I had to let go of that fear and put trust in being open to what was going to come next, without really knowing what that would be.
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What did you do to push through that?

A lot of self work over the years. I meditated. I talked about my ideas and my fears to people — my friends, my therapist, my shaman (laughs). I did all of this self work before I decided I was going to quit and pursue this. It was in doing all of this that gave me the courage to even consider it fully. I did whatever I had to do to make myself face the fear because I knew what I wanted. I was afraid but that didn’t lessen my desire. Essentially each time I opened up to people about what I was afraid of, I let a piece of that fear go. I went on a trip with some friends to the jungles of South America and while in the jungle I knew I was going to leave “xyz” there, and one of those was fear.

Being afraid can be an impediment to your journey. I was determined to not let that be the thing that held me back. I believe that whatever your outward exertions are in life, it’s a reflection of what’s happening inside of you. It was important for me to mentally be in a place where I understood who I was, what my limitations were, and what my hardships and happiness were. One has to come to terms with all of these things to be able to do anything of meaning. 

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‍How does knowing that you have the power to pivot and change life paths affect how you shape your life?

I believe that our minds are such a powerful tool. Everything we do, whether it’s a change in habits, a life change or deciding what you want to do for the rest of your life, these all require you to tap into your willpower — to will yourself to take the necessary steps towards what you are seeking — it’s powerful. The idea of x + y = z, that if you do the work, it will amount to something. 

Deciding in your mind that you will do what it takes, implementing that willpower and being strong enough to get up everyday and work through the difficulties, the doubts, and the fears. Having hope and believing in yourself is what makes all the difference.

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How did you find perspective during trying moments?

I reach out to my circle, whether it’s my parents or my friends. I need to talk to talk it out. 

When you are in your own head and you are only looking at a situation from one viewpoint, it creates this vicious loop that is easy for you to get stuck in. My way out of this loop is by constantly talking to people.

Where did the idea of your work, Anamnesis, come from?

Originally I wanted to set up textile tours and workshops in Iran that would allow people to support the local communities and the unique crafts of these locations; just as they might while visiting other countries such as Nepal or Thailand. I found the idea of textile tours and their missions to be beautiful. Iran has a very rich textile history, and not just textiles but Persian rugs as well, and I thought, ‘Why couldn't we take part in this?’ I took a trip back to Iran to see if this idea was viable but with logistics, the embargo, and sanctions that prevent Iran from being part of the global community, I knew it was not something that I could do. 

I had no idea what the project was going to be but the more I learned about rugs, especially nomadic rugs, it became clear that there were these hidden secrets waiting to be discovered, and to me that was very magical and beautiful. It drew me in, and I felt that this would do the same to other people in Iran as well as beyond. The idea behind the project was to showcase the magical aspects of these nomadic rugs, the woman weavers that created them, and all the things that were disappearing from this tradition. I wanted to create a platform, a women’s collective, that would feature these artisans and sell fair trade rugs. This would become an ongoing project where we’d support them in every step of the way, provide them with materials, pay fair wages, all in the hopes to create better opportunities for these women weavers, while also trying to preserve this dying art form.

Your work has given you the opportunity to meet women who have become shadows in their beautiful tradition. What do you hope to do in sharing their work and stories?

My hope is to raise awareness of these women weavers and improve their lives by creating better opportunities for them that hopefully extends beyond just their work. I started Anamnesis because I was sad that no one knew about these women, of the stories that were being told, and no one cared about the mistreatment they received. The rugs they create are so connected to Iranian culture, and are also what connects us to the world. For me the injustice of it all gave me the ambition to share their stories.

It was important for me to create this cultural initiative and women’s collective where we could highlight the significance of the rugs, the stories of the women who wove them, and the meanings behind their designs. Given all that is happening in the world, establishing a responsible production process was also essential. Highlighting the social aspects of designs makes you think, and makes you become a more conscious consumer. There’s more weight to each purchase because there’s a connection to the person who made it — you buy less crap and you put less trash into the world. It’s a domino effect .

When we had our show in Tehran, the reactions we received provided a glimpse of what the response could be like in NY and other cities we had planned to exhibit the work at. There were people who came to the show that initially didn’t care much about rugs who ended up being moved by the stories of these women and it really made them think. Iranians are saturated in carpets, the myths and the lore of women weavers telling their stories behind their looms. We grew up with this so it’s hard to get them to think twice about rugs, and yet, people left our show captivated by the stories we shared.

We’ve just begun the work of showcasing these stories and shedding light on a tradition that is fading away. I’m hoping that as more opportunities for exposure come, we’ll be able to increase the social impact of the project. I want to implement real change for these women through the work that we do.

Where do you find yourself and the project now?

This is difficult to answer. The future of Anamnesis is undoubtedly and intimately tied to my own.

When I returned to the US I was depleted and exhausted from months of grueling work. I was back in NY just long enough to unpack my belongings, before leaving again to Columbia for a few weeks to decompress. I needed a reset before diving back into it all — a NY show, a plan to expand the work, a plan to have shows in other US cities and countries. 

The timing of my return from Columbia coincided with the pandemic. Everything shut down and in many ways it led me to shut down mentally too. In my mind the show I had planned in NY would have tied a lot of loose ends. It may very well have shown me what was next in my career, for Anamnesis, and how we could continue to impact the lives of these women weavers. With everything at a standstill, and with having to process not only the current reality we all share, but also the reality of coming home with all of these insights, perspectives and feelings is overwhelming and I find myself paralyzed. Right now, nothing inspires me. 

Everything I've done hinged on trusting that I had the willpower within that would guide me in figuring it out. Knowing, from the beginning, what the overall goals were for each phase was helpful to keep my momentum, even during the dark moments while in Iran — both the tangible goals of a film, a book, and a show to exhibit the pieces of the women weavers, as well as the intangible social impact goals. This body of work and the trust I had in the importance of it continued to keep me in a forward motion. As time passes with uncertainty, and being in this dark phase of the journey, my belief in this trust feels diminished…shaken.   

How do you give grace to yourself through this time?

In the past couple of days I’ve been more determined to reframe my mind. I’ve been reflecting on the last 2- 3 years of my life, making mental notes of all of the things that were difficult and hard to do. Remembering the mental aspects of what it took to get these done, knowing that I had been there, that I had done that, reminding myself of my strengths and my abilities. It’s tough to have that mindset of “get up and do” when life is so unclear and murky. But I’ve been here before, and what’s different now  is the pride and passion that I have for the work that I have done, and for the women who I’m intrinsically connected with. 

I have yet to fully comprehend the full extent of what the impacts of my trip are, of Anamnesis, and the experience of it all for myself — how it has laid the groundwork, or how it has redefined my life. But what I do know is that even as I sit here in this state of suspension, in the dark, that I’ll find my way. I’ve figured it out before and I’ll figure it out again.
 

How are you continuing your journey on self discovery and pursuit of chasing your sunshine?

When I left Iran, I felt so powerful — like I’m such a badass. I was so proud of myself. It made me believe that whatever it was that I was going to do after this, I can do it. That whatever I put my mind to I can do it. So it’s hilarious that I am sitting here, just a few months later, so paralyzed; but I know this is temporary.

Where I am in my self discovery journey is trying to find that willpower again, and I hope that when I find that power, that I can also find my joy, so I'm in pursuit of that.

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When thinking of the definition of Chasing Sunshine — a state of mind; an embodiment of courage, grace and joy — how do you manifest this in your life?

Being honest with myself on a daily basis. I need to have conversations with myself to get down to the nitty gritty of what it is I want to do. To remind me of why I am doing something, what I want to get out of it. To not get too down, and to remind myself to enjoy what is before me.

Is there an image that immediately comes to mind that encompasses Chasing Sunshine for you? Can you tell us about it?

Being by the water in nature brings back sweet memories of my childhood. Growing up we used to go to the north of Iran by the Caspian Sea, and I had all of my firsts as a kid there — my first crush, my first kiss, my first scar. It all happened by the sea. This connection to the water gives me peace and happiness and reminds me of being unsullied as a kid, a kind of innocence.  

For those who are in the midst of discovery and finding their sunshine, what are some lessons, words that you’d share with them? 

Aptly enough, what I’m going to say applies to me right in this very moment of where I am.

For myself, for those who find themselves lost and in the process, keep at it. You are going to have so many down days. You are going to fall on your face. You are going to want to quit. You’ll want to cry and scream. The people that continue to do what they love are those who work through all of this, all of the hardships. So if you fall on your face no matter how hard that fall was, get right back up. That’s all you can do — it’s the best thing you can do — to get back up, keep going, and connect to what keeps you pushing forward. For me it’s hope.