In 2023, I paid homage to my childhood story, the "In-Home Circus," through a series of interactive workshops. Participants engaged in my narrative, immersing themselves in the playful activities inspired by the memorable moments of my past. One such activity involved moving a raw yolk from one arm to the other and creating whimsical patterns with lipstick around a torn yolk, reminiscent of the mischievous patterns on my father's arms from those cherished days. The aim was to generate playful moments for adult participants as well as to encourage them to remember their childhood stories, games they played and food they loved. A collection of documented photos captured the essence of these performances, and I have chosen a few of them to showcase the beauty and visual narration of human interaction in the intersection of shared conversations, played games, food and space.

“ In_Home Circus “

"In-Home Circus" serves as a heartfelt tribute to my childhood, where weekend breakfasts transformed into a cherished tradition meticulously orchestrated by my father. Growing up in a humble yet joyous family amid the tumultuous 1980s in Iran, marked by the Iraq-Iran war and international sanctions, we faced immense challenges. The period was further complicated by the brutal repression of political activists by the Islamist government and my mother's long-term depression. Despite these hardships, my father consistently found ways to bring joy and laughter into our lives, creating moments of happiness amid the darkness.

Every weekend, our breakfast table became the stage for a captivating spectacle. Unable to afford a trip to Tehran to witness the renowned Eastern European circus, "Eagle Circus," my father's acrobatic egg yolk performance became our in-home circus. With precision and grace, he transferred the yolk across his biceps, behind his neck, and toward his other arm, creating a mesmerizing journey that we eagerly anticipated. The performance was a joyful chaos of laughter and occasional collisions, with only a few yolks surviving the cascade down my father's masculine upper body. Those survivors landed in a cup, where we added sugar, creating a delightful blend that we savored one by one.

The essence of these playful games continues to infuse our family rituals with joy and happiness, offering a rich tapestry of lived history and showcasing the magic of food as a cohesive force. Even now, indulging in two hard-boiled eggs with toast every Sunday floods my mind with memories of those carefree moments. Before savoring my favorite Sunday breakfast, I make it a point to adorn my lips with red lipstick—a nostalgic nod to the day my mother granted me permission to wear it at the tender age of six. These small rituals, intertwined with a history of conversation, food, resilience, and laughter, serve as a poignant reminder of the strength and love that endured through challenging times.