Lost Shadow Even after I left Granada, it continued to haunt me, as if it were a city clinging to my memories forever. I still remember its beauty, the buildings, the gardens, and the inscriptions casting their shadows and changing paths every other second, by disappearing and reappearing once again. I began to contemplate the evidence of time to recapture the shadows that I lost there. And despite the distance, I still reflect on what is lost among its shadows, images that I replay over and over in my head, along with the poetry that narrates the story of the loss in the inscriptions in the form of a letter fragment missed by a researcher's translation of a manuscript written by a lover at some point. The beauty of Granada’s Andalusian buildings captures my interest through their use of shadows, which decorate buildings and protect their elements. The clay walls are formed in a fashion that brings out their maximum beauty, with indents and protrusions that reflect their images all around through the daily journey of the sun. This is as the artist had intended it, an Andalusian architect who engraved decorative and calligraphic units, embedding poems on the facades of the walls using shadows and shades of light in every text of this poetry, leading up to what has been lost and depleted from the architectural creation by time or a letter that escaped the body of the form to become a soul of the shadows, where shadows and forms become equal, like content and margins are equal in a manuscript. For me, the shadow has an independent and unique value because it is a self-standing form, a mirror created by light, a change in the form and rebellion against it, and a distant interpretation of the imagination. The shadow of the vocabulary continued to intrigue me in a dialogue that has not ended yet. Granada is the same sacred pomegranate that appears in my work and turns into a symbol of beauty and femininity. Sometimes it is next to the woman who gazes at it silently and sometimes it moves to the empty tables and chairs. The pomegranate, which is closely associated with the city of Granada, in a color that is a symbol of the city, led me to the journey of this plant travelling from the Levant to Andalusia, and there I found beauty in the form of a heart full of red rubies, like fragments of light that beat with life. As the Andalusian poet, Lorca, says: The fragrant pomegranate A crystal sky Each seed A star. And each peel A sunset. From there, I began weaving my works, intertwined and intersecting with those melting shadows on the walls of memory. The shadows of Granada and the refraction of light on its buildings remained a dream residing in me, in my thoughts, my imagination and in my memories. A dream that weaves itself in the fabric of my artworks. It is the eternal pleasure that has no end.