Falling in Love with the Unknown
- Loli Lanas
- Mar 9
- 5 min read
This video was taken ten years ago and were emailed to me by a wonderful teacher named Shirin, whose students participated in my Projekt Postcard project.
Watching these videos today feels different. The children in them are all grown now.
Ten years ago, children from Croatia, Tehran, Arlington, VA- US, Ecuador, and Uganda participated in my Projekt Postcard project, creating artwork that later became part of my One World Installation at Dulles Airport.
My connection to Iran began long before that project.
It started in my art history class, when I first learned about the magnificent Ishtar Gate. Years later, when I saw it in person at the Pergamon Museum in Berlin, I was left in awe.
There is no greater feeling than studying a work of art in a book and then standing in front of it in real life. For me, it is one of those moments when you have to pinch yourself — a reminder of the extraordinary beauty human beings are capable of creating.
Later came the poetry of Hafez, whose words about love and the human spirit stayed with me.
After discovering those poems, I met Majid. Being with him made me even more curious about his culture and his country. I often wondered why we felt so similar, even though we came from different parts of the world.
He taught me how to eat pomegranates, and I taught him about granadillas — two different fruits, yet so similar inside.
In that small moment, I realized that cultures can be like fruits from different trees — unique on the outside, yet filled with the same sweetness inside.
I would often take Majid to museums, where together we explored and rediscovered the beauty of Persian history and culture.
During another visit to the Freer Gallery, we saw the Cyrus Cylinder. Until that moment, I had always been incredibly proud of the richness of Ecuadorian history. But when I learned about the history behind the Cyrus Cylinder, I was deeply impressed.
I turned to Majid, bowed my head playfully, and said, “You win.”My respect to your people and your history.
In that moment I realized that the ideas of dignity, respect, and humanity written thousands of years ago are the same values we still hope to pass on to our children today.
One day I discovered a book about the Shahnameh. After just a quick glance, I knew I had to have it, so I bought it immediately. I wanted to learn everything about Rostam — my new favorite warrior.
Through the stories of Rostam, I began to understand the deep wisdom behind them — lessons about courage, honor, and responsibility that have been passed from generation to generation.
In many ways, these stories help shape the imagination and values of children who grow up hearing them.
In a way, the children in my project were doing something similar — telling their own stories through drawings, sharing their cities and their cultures with children in other parts of the world.
My love for Persian culture continued through food as well. I discovered the beautiful cookbook Food of Life by Najmieh Batmanglij, and I enjoyed cooking many of the recipes.
That book is fascinating. It is not just a cookbook — it is filled with history, humor, poetry, and beautiful artwork.
Persian cooking is taken very seriously. Every ingredient is intentional, carefully chosen for both good health and incredible flavor.
And through those recipes I began to understand something deeper — that Persian food, like its poetry and stories, is meant to be shared, bringing people together around a table with warmth, generosity, and respect.
Even during my visits to Ecuador, I would notice Iranian restaurants and immediately walk in. My love for Persian food would take me there, where I would meet the owners and tell them how much I loved their cuisine — especially the desserts with their delicate scent of saffron, cardamom, and rosewater.
As I began remembering and writing these moments, I realized how many experiences and how much knowledge about Iran had quietly become part of my life.
Over the years, I had turned those discoveries into my own personal story — almost like a relationship I built with a culture that fascinated me.
I fell in love with the wisdom, the beauty, the poetry, the history, and the generosity it carries.
It became a relationship I created through curiosity and learning — and one that I now share with others.
When my Projekt Postcard initiative began to grow, I became determined to find a school in Iran that would participate in the project. And eventually, I did find a willing and brave teacher who agreed to work with me.
I will always be grateful to that teacher for trusting a stranger from across the world and opening the door for their students to share their voices through art.
I wanted the children in my projects to discover the same beautiful Persian culture that I had come to admire.
I wanted them to learn about the beauty of Iranian culture and its people — beyond politics and headlines.
The children in these videos were drawing postcards of their cities — the monuments and places that made them proud of where they came from.
In Tehran, the children carefully drew the Azadi Tower, their national flag, and scenes from their city. At minute 2:50, a little girl can be seen concentrating as she draws the Azadi Tower.
Each drawing became a small window into their world.
Later, when the postcards were displayed together in my One World Installation at Dulles Airport, those small windows came together to form something larger — a mosaic of children’s voices, cities, and cultures from around the world.
And as I watch these videos now, I realize how much I loved doing this project. The real heroes in this story were not the warriors of ancient epics, but the children who proudly shared their cities, their cultures, and their hopes with the world.
It is impossible to harm something you have fallen in love with. And when that love is harmed, the heart cannot help but break into a million pieces.
Watching these videos today is emotional.
The children in these videos are all grown now. But when I see news about children killed in bombings, my heart goes back to those classrooms, those drawings, and those hopeful faces.
My heart breaks for every child whose life ends too soon and for every mother who loses a child to violence that should never exist.
Sometimes moments like this make me wonder if projects like mine matter.
But when I look at these videos, I remember something important:
Curiosity builds bridges.
Art builds bridges.
Children build bridges.
And maybe that is exactly why we must keep building them.
Looking at their drawings now, I am reminded that the same human spirit that once built great gates, wrote beautiful poetry, and told stories of heroes still lives in the small hands of children as they create their own visions of the world.
Life has taught me to stay curious and to step gently into the beautiful and mysterious unknown. Often it begins like a small bulb hidden beneath the soil, and with time and care, it rises and blossoms into a fragrant rose.
Perhaps the lesson is this: stay curious, and learn to fall in love with the unknown.
❤️
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