The Dance of the Memory of Gulistan

Silence… cries…
Immobility… restlessness…
Distance… extreme proximity…
Dense images, without outlines, suspended,
Of an ancient elegance,
Bodies with non-defined limbs…
Erased…
Figures without faces,
Blurred… the light of an uncertain eternity…
Substance… the essence of feeling…
The consciousness of the entirety of non-form,
Colours, the layers of memory… the train of memory…
The completeness of void… the void which sustains memory…
The void which becomes memory…
A sob is heard…
It is the voice of memory which is kept unto itself…
… Women’s hands dancing in immobility…
Brushing objects from the past…
… Matter… witness of memory…
… It is the journey of emotion…
… It is the courage of love…
… It is the warm dance of the memory… of Gulistan

— Adelaide Gemelli

A winter afternoon, a long taxi drive… to the east… my first encounter with Gulistan, a meeting with a friend… a friend I saw for the first time.