The art of Lida Sherafatmand

SILVIA PIO (edited by)

Lida was born in Iran (the old Persia), and experienced a childhood of war time under the newly formed regime of 1979 revolution. Her birth city, Khorramshahr got wiped out completely in the bombardments as it was the first city to be attacked by Iraq marking the start of the Iran-Iraq war of the 1980s. In the meantime members of her relatives were executed by the government due to their opposition towards the new regime. At the age of 15 Lida discovered the Universal Declaration of Human Rights through Amnesty International and this declaration for her seemed an opening door to a more humane world where people can be respected regardless of their nationality or culture.

At that time she and her family left Iran and settled in Malta. Lida’s passion for drawing had started at the tender age of 3, and at the age of 19 she made her firm decision to dedicate her talent to the promotion of peace and friendship among people when she enrolled to an art school in Malta. Focused on human rights and peace, Lida started her art path by creating paintings with messages. Her works have traveled to 17 countries so far and been published by major bodies such as Amnesty International, UN, UNESCO. While based in Malta, in 2004, she wrote “Humanitarian Art Manifesto“, designed to create a synergy among artists who share the same line of commitment in their art creations. Her manifesto got translated into 7 languages and signed by artists from 22 countries.

In 2006 she moved to Paris to face the challenges of the art world and deepen her path as an artist. There her painting evolved in style and was presented at several galleries, salons and auctions. Her design works were presented at important international salons in Paris and got to the winning table of France’s Championships of the Art of Table Wear.

In 2011 she headed back to Malta, and changed her focus from human rights concepts onto the internal states of the human spirit. This shift was the result of her years of effort trying to promote human rights which tend to meet many challenges on a cultural and political level. When she finished a Master course in international relations, she joint an international think-tank NGO called Global Harmony Association. This association provided her a new platform to discuss her ideas both as an artist and as an academic researcher.

In 2012 her paintings took off with a new force, and she tried to connect directly to the soul of individuals, letting the paintings be like a mirror for the viewer to see his/her own reflections inside. The new ‘period’ of Lida’s visual style, which uses movements and symbolism of flowers, is yet another start for her towards further research, further growth, and further development. Enrolled in the journey of life, she hopes to share her findings with others, as well as contribute with her paintings towards the environment where she believes the paintings become part of our physical, emotional and intellectual reality.

http://www.lida-art.com/index.html

Lida Sherafatmand is also a poet:

New Altitudes

The winds spoke,
The sea spoke,
The earth spoke,

Voices which were there
But I had not heard before,

The trees spoke then,
The leaves spoke,
The stars whispered,
The moon called,
The sun sang,

Voiced I had not heard before,
Entities I had not lived with before,

Resources I had not reached yet,

As the winds spoke,
They woke me up to speed,
When the sea spoke,
It woke me up to bearing with caress,
When the earth spoke,
It woke me to bearing solid,

The trees told me
How to dance even still,
The leaves showed me
How to pulse my fingers with grace,
The stars shimmered a soft rhythm,
The moon called me to start
The dance,
And the sun sang eternal songs,

New altitudes
I had missed to live,
Voices I had not heard before,

To paint the falling flowers,
I waited till I could hear them
Falling,
I waited till I heard the wind
Bringing them close,
I waited till I could hear the sea’s
Sound of generous waves,
Bearing with caress…
I waited till the earth
Taught me how to be solid,

I waited
To paint,
I waited,
Till I could hear unheard voices,
I waited till I could reach
The new altitudes…

For a heavenly Father
Had showered gifts,
For a heavenly Mother
Had brought so much grace,

I waited
To paint,
New altitudes,
I waited to paint….

New altitudes…

Crossing the Oceans

When a philosopher
Has to street fight,
Face the wild,
Hear the yelling,
Witness the beating,

When a princess
Has to live the vagabond
With no house,
Men and women
With no faces,

The street fighter
Philosopher,
The princess vagabond,
The growth of a soul,
The expansion of a spirit,
To cross the oceans;

The oceans of life
For a life of beauty
Bears the infinite,
Of souls belonging to all,
Dissolves through the surface,
Back to the core
Of a force unknown
But powerful in delight,
Immense in colour,
A love supreme
For a mundane mind.

Crossing the oceans,
For a life of beauty…
Immense in colour,
Powerful in delight,
Supreme in love…

Raining Drops of Love…

At midday, the sun went dark,
Dark, dark, dark,
Like it was midnight,
What was it?
An unannounced sun eclipse?
The day finished,
The morning came,
Black drops of rain came down
From the sky,
They covered the grass, the floor,
The cars, everywhere,
Was it a black rain?!

The 1991 Gulf War,
They bombed the oil refineries,
The oil and gas caught fire
So high to cross borders
From Kuwait, to Iraq, to Iran,
It rained black capturing burnt oil,
Smoke in the air,

But that black rain…
The black rain today,
Decades after still,
Same region, same arms, same anger,
Same fight;
Boredom to the souls,
That black rain
Boredom to life I cannot paint…

I see a heat of
A river of fire,
A delicious heat,
With a warm caress,
A dancing flow
It’s a rain of love,
Showering tenderly,
Shimmering with light,
Like the stars in the sky,
Like the ripples in the sea
At night,
Pulses of life passion which rain,
That rain I paint,
For the eyes to witness
The colours of a rain,
Dropping drops of love…

The eyes have already seen
A black rain…
The boredom of a black rain,
Dried souls, lifeless shimmers…

It’s the rain of love I want to witness,
Raining drops of love…

Raining drops of love…

Raining drops of love…

© Lida Sherafatmand
December 2014

Italiano