Parham Peyvandi

Islanders

From my earliest memories, one word sits at the center of everything I have experienced: home.

Perhaps this is the first subject that comes to mind for any child when they begin to paint, but for me, it has never faded in importance. Through painting and drawing, I return to this idea again and again, exploring what home means in a shifting, unsettled sense.

Home is where I define myself, shaped by memory, emotion, and lived experience, yet it is never fixed. It changes, evolves, and sometimes disappears. I am always searching for a sense of home within my mind, my body, and the surrounding world. Every city I have lived in leaves its trace, but now, living thousands of miles from my birthplace, this search feels more urgent. Each sketch or painting becomes a fragment of a larger puzzle I am still assembling.

I believe that all my paintings are different attempts to answer a single question:

How can I connect with my surroundings?

In this search, landscape painting is no longer a matter of depicting picturesque clouds or trees; it reflects not only where one stands, but how one sees; a way of questioning what surrounds us and how we relate to it. It is not merely about representing a place but about conveying the human experience within it.

As an artist, I am interested in the complex relationship between remembrance and observation in shaping lived experience, identity, and a sense of belonging. Remembrance always unfolds in absence. No one can truly see what you remember: someone no longer by your side, a past with no trace in the present, streets you will never walk again. Observation, however, belongs to the present moment. These paintings are not depictions of memories, but about the moment of remembering what is no longer there. In this series, I explore the duality of past and present, reflecting on the condition of living in a state of in-betweenness—a space for resistance, creativity, and survival.