Horrific Gardens #10

Ghazale Bahiraie

The blossoming, a dazzling dance, a symphony of light and color, organized chaos defying the darkness.

A fiery flower blossoms between earth and sky, hypnotizing all those who observe it from afar. Seen from this distance, it seems poetic, sublime, almost divine. The immensity of the scene fascinates, as if the universe itself were stretching out, bursting into a work of art.

But as you get closer? The charm wears off. In these works embroidered in light, the illusion of distant beauty is transformed into brutal truth. The delicate threads that weave this visual web do not seek to seduce. What seemed extraordinary reveals its true face: that of a theater of tragedy.

The blinding glare becomes ashes, smoke and howls. The fragments scattered in the air are not stars, but pieces of broken human histories: children, women, men, civilians. What seemed a sublime work turns out to be a disaster, woven in flesh and blood.

Where the eye dreamed of beauty, it discovers pain. Lives reduced to ruins, dreams swept away by a shock wave.

Every shard becomes a cry, every spark a fading memory. What seemed grandiose from afar is a gaping wound up close. An unbearable truth: Effroyables Jardins is not a series of works of art, but a cruel mirror of human fragility. Ali JAFARI