For my mother, caviar was not a luxury food, but a standard. Those blue-stacked, neatly-dressed tins sitting in abundance were universally adored in her time of strife. “Caviar was not a delicacy but a way of life in Azerbaijan,” my mother would explain.
Nonetheless, there was something alluring about Dali's his work...Like the fascination with picking a scab to see what lies beneath it, an insatiable curiosity made me return to his works.
I decided to revisit Dali in Paris and gash open the scab once more.
A modern translation of Ovid's Echo and Narcissus.
It takes the federal government six years and two months to build the mosque on Momo Drive. The call to prayer sounds for the first time on the seventh of June, an hour before sunrise, in a low, throaty cadence that cuts across the dark. Under lamplight, the building’s white dome gleams like polished limestone.