Hasti Soleimani Nia
Conceptual Artist and Writer
Her father was gone. He had ascended to the heavens. Everyone kept saying that. The daughter couldn’t believe that this journey was so far. She had planted him herself, covered him with soil. All that was left was waiting and hope. When her father sprouted, he was green, fragile, and delicate. The daughter knew that it was now her turn to care for him. She had found her mission. And her fear...
Now, it was the fruits—her father’s ancestors—that didn’t want their lives to end. Hasti Soleimani Nia, years before turning forty, planted the seeds of her hopes in the farthest corner from her field of study (polymer engineering) and patiently nurtured lives she had cast aside many times before; except this time.
