When I was young enough to understand and my mother was tired of listen to me asking questions I was told about Iran. My mother told me stories about living in the city and riding on the handle bars of her friend’s bikes, quickly adding “but don’t do that because a friend of mine got killed doing that”. She told me that she would have to go up to the roof and shovel snow as we drove home from the park one summer in her 1985 Dodge Wagon, saying that they worried the weight would be too much and the snow might crash through, damaging those below. (Aside: I just realized I never asked her if they lived in a house or flat.)

After one of these enchanting stories of the old country I told her I wanted to go there and see where she lived. Now, my mother isn’t a bad person. She doesn’t tell lies for the sake of lying or deceive her children on principal. Its clear now what her intentions were and why she responded the way she did but back then it didn’t make much sense. She responded by tell me that we wouldn’t be going back. She told me that because we are Baha’is the government didn’t like us very much, a fact I had learned years before in a newsreel or conversation I had with someone somewhere, and would not be happy if we arrived in their country. That was why they had to flee, my mother and her family, Tehran and move to Texas. The Revolution taking its firm hold on the country, my grandfather recognized it was time to leave so he packed up my uncle, aunt, and grandmother to meet my mother and other aunt in Arlington, Texas. Of course, the trip wasn’t that simple; there are stories I’ve been told about Turkey and various countries in Europe and Asia they had to stay in for a few months before being granted immigrant status in the US, but that’s a story for a different time. She then told me something that shaped my future view of the country of her birth, that if she returned the government would consider her a whore.

In Iran, a Baha’i marriage is meaningless and “married women” are labeled as whores because they and their “husbands” refused a Muslim marriage, the most prominent of a handful of recognized marriages in a country ruled by and designed around Islam. This became doubly worse as she had “married” an American man. She told me my father might be killed and her imprisoned (I realize now that my father wouldn’t be killed but simply imprisoned also) and possibly forced to marry a Muslim man. That my sister and I (my youngest sister wouldn’t be born for another six years) might be given to a Muslim family and that I would, more than likely, be sent to serve in the military.

This, obviously, scared the shit out of me. “My mom’s not a whore, you ‘mother’s of dogs,’” (translated from Farsi; swears being the only Farsi words I can still recall) I thought aloud, my mother responding nonverbally in a way I now understand as being lost in her own fear. It was that fear that drove the car now and steered the conversation to something, in her mind, more productive like soccer or math, things she loved as a child growing up in Tehran and still clung to. The things that weren’t ruined by the Revolution and her fleeing the country of her birth to live, by her self, and attend college at UT Arlington.

Its a bizarre twist that she will now root for the Iranian soccer team at the World Cup in South Africa. That she will question why I’m booing and cheering on their opposition. It makes perfect sense to me. They and that flag represents the moment in history when my mother instilled fear and loathing for a country based on her own experience.

So that leads us to today where rioters and protesters are using facebook and other social networking sites to coordinate their marches in direct opposition to the edict the government created years ago, under the guise of Islam, to quell unrest. Where a people who love their country so much that they must lash out against the government and policies that have consumed and perverted their culture. And I shouldn’t support violence, I know. I shouldn’t support these or any other actions against a government as their are better, less violent, and more unifying ways of resolving the problems that currently plague Iran, but I can’t help it. I want Iran to be a country I can be proud of. The country of my mother’s birth. The country of my Faith’s birth. I just keep hoping that these protesters can revitalize Iran and return it to its rightful place as a powerhouse of invention and peace instead of oppression and degradation. And if these chants are any indication, my childhood dream of going to Tehran to see where my mother was raised may come true sooner than I thought.

Esm e man, Faroz. Man az Iran hastam.

The graphic novel is chugging along slowly, but I’ll have time this weekend, with the added impatience of needing to get at least 10 (comic) pages done by Tuesday, to rip through as much as possible.  The story itself is firming up, characters are clear, and I’m getting ready to send some “sketches” out to LT so that I can get some drawn sketches to post around my desk as motivational tools.  This has been a lot of fun to research and create so far, and I haven’t even done much.  It’s exciting.

The massive delay that were my computer problems have been resolved, and I’m really loving the design and feel of this new MacBooks.  I can feel the future of pages and work forming on it’s keys…or whatever.

As far as SoulPancake is concerned – we will be launching on Sunday, February 22nd.  It is official!  I know you’ve been waiting and have been very patient, but the wait will be over  on the the 22nd.  I’ll be in control of the Challenges section, if you’re wondering where my contributions will be housed, and Heather is going to be figuring out the code to post some of the Challenges and other content from the site onto this page so you can all see it, jump over to SoulPancake.com, and participate.

Holler!

I’ll make the announcement on the site upon groundbreak and will keep y’all posted on here when new posts, contests, interviews, etc. show up.  So, keep your eyes peeled and thoughts on spirituality.  Boom!  (I’m excited, yes)

…I hope that clarifies that…maybe.

Oh well.  I’ll get used to it fairly quickly, I’m sure.

Some say it’s best to write something else in the hopes that you’re pulled back into the thought process that possessed you before, drove you to the writing of such a thing, but that doesn’t seem to be working too well.  Seriously, where did you go story?  I had you firmly stuck in my brain for three months, had conversations and meetings about where things were going, and now nothing.  Then again, this was the same story that has had two different artists linked to it, so far, and has gone no further then this perpetually gestating, chubby baby.  I mean, it was gestating until I took that there break.

Whatever, at least I’m getting some work done, I suppose.  I’m proud of myself, if nothing else, for getting back to this.

…wait…wait…this old guy sitting in front of me…he’s it!  Thank you for being awkward, sir.  You’ve helped me more then you know.  Also, your wrist brace makes me wonder about carpal tunnel in bloggers…also, stop chew on your headphone cord.

Adulations to Henry Warren for the art work and for lengthy conversations about other (forthcoming) projects.  Yeah, that’s authentic watercoloring, people.

To my editor, Lindsay McComb, who helps to keep me sane and motivated, and for shortening much of what I wrote; thus, making it infinitely better.

Lastly, to Heather Luxion, the designer/visionary of this site.  My first born and the creation of years upon years of content for her and her sister’s site Tres Hermanas will only begin to repay her.

With that said, I’d like to express, briefly, how elated I am that this site is live and just beginning to propagate content.  Also, that those mentioned above were/are willing to lend their ability in the creation of this site and to promote my push from amateur to professional.

Lastly, the idea for this site came from realizing the importance of the nets and that such a site might help to let my career grow.  I’m also grateful that my boss had to lay me off in this time of economic uncertainty.  That shove out the door was just the catalyst I needed to really devote myself to this/my work.

Anything in the ‘short-reach tentacles’ portion are housed on this site, and anything in the ‘long-reach tentacles’ portion will shoot you off to other sites.  Now that the obvious things have been addressed I’d like to point out that this page is not static.  Things will change as my career changes.  I’ll end up growing tentacles and probably have some lopped off.  That’s the nature of my life and how I’m seeing my career moving.

I’ll be sure to keep y’all posted with the news, progress, and the like as things happen.  Be sure to follow or friend me in the various media linked through and feel free to comment and let me now what you’re thinking.  Thanks very much!  Enjoy and stuff!