This standalone piece, drawn from the Traces of Shadows collection, reflects a fusion of sonic and visual arts as an intuitive and symbolic response to Ahmad Shamloo’s poem How Feverishly I Want You. It draws not only from the tone and content of the verse, but also from the musical silences and emotive arrangement by Babak and Negar Bouban—an enigmatic convergence of presence and absence, sound and void, meaning and revelation.
Music served as the starting point, capturing desire, detachment, and silence at the edge of audibility. • The visual design responds to these emotional waves—translating the architecture of the poem and sound into quiet form. • A conceptual thread weaves between sound and image, crafting a narrative structure of longing, loss, and dim light dissolving into poetic darkness.
At the heart of this work, music plays a central role: a space made of sonic voids, extended breaths, and melodies on the verge of silence—as though each note hovers between being and not-being. The image emerges from shadow and light, evoking lost colors and muted tones drawn from forgotten fabrics and distant memories. Time here is unmoored from natural rhythm; emotions drift in suspension, and moments unfold introspectively—beyond the logic of time.
This piece seeks to transform silence into a symbolic experience—a space for contemplating presence hidden within absence. Through layered visual metaphor and poetic language, it translates the emotion embedded in the poem into a meditative image. It is a journey between touch and memory, passing through the haze to discover the light that flickers behind quiet veils not for understanding, but for living on the edge of perception. Traces of Shadows is not simply an artistic collection; it is a portal for feeling in silence, confronting longing, and embracing the inner dialogue between artistic strands. This convergence of sound and meaning is not for grasping—but for losing oneself: a voyage at the threshold of perception, where time collapses and meaning emerges dreamlike from between the fissures of stillness. At that point, the listener is not an observer, but a part of the sound itself—a floating speck within a nameless revelation.