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He was not just an artist, but also a perfect being with his own unique expression. All those who knew him admit this, not just me who lived with him for half a century.

He respected others’ thoughts, even those he disagreed with.

He was kind, patient, eager and loved his work. He was greatly fond of his family and life.

He was interested in everything: mankind, nature, music and books.

He took pleasure in finding his works fulfilled and shared them with me. He talked about his work lovingly, but little, since he did not like to talk about himself.

He was eager to know more – next to him were always different books on architecture, paintings, music, literature, science fiction and etc.

When he got tired of drawings, he used to take haven into music and books.

We lived a simple life, because he liked the simplicity in everything and detested flaunting.

We loved each other immensely and lived happily and peacefully next to each other anywhere on this universe.

He went to work everyday and returned in the evenings bringing happiness in the bag he carried with him,

but alas,…

 

As Homa Gerami once said;

I wish one day you’d come to me on a breeze

Shamsi Shariatzadeh

shishi

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