Secret Beneath the Veil

by Laurie Blum

It is universally accepted that there is a mystique surrounding the land called Persia. I had no idea when I first set foot in Iran that a paradise, profoundly rich and satisfying, was waiting for me. All the suspicions I had about the country and people had to be allayed. After I surrendered these false impressions one by one, I was literally rebuilt, from the ground up. My own character needed to be solid, generous and open, only then could I hope to accurately assess another. I had to trust myself and summon the courage to do the things I wanted to do. Once this happened, the world I needed to create for myself manifested. The confidence I needed appeared naturally and I was able to draw from a great unknown reserve within myself. I had but to sit in the gardens and paint and the magical transformation occurred. Whether I painted in The Garden of Paradise or Hafez and Sa’adi’s Tombs in Shiraz, the onlookers appreciatively approved of my efforts. I think it was a strange and rare occurrence, but a happy one for the people to behold an American painting from the beauty of their land!

I was treated with great respect and welcomed by a very friendly people. I don’t remember having ever witnessed this kind of loving treatment of a foreign guest where I am from. My lessons continued as I noted how Persians greet one another profusely with the kindest words of affection by telephone, and face to face by kissing each other on both cheeks. Some of their customs awakened in me a sense of what I had missed or lost somewhere in my youth. Lost feelings and emotions surfaced in me and eventually were integrated into my emerging new self. I felt here in Iran was the missing link from the American experience. In America, I feel there’s a lost sense of self stemming from the lack of appreciation for some of our most precious gifts. Certain fundamental values I rediscovered in Iran included: magnificent architecture which takes Nature into consideration, appreciation for the natural beauty of the land, excellent medical care with doctors taking the time to listen to the patient, and social activity built around the family circle. Iran is a country with deep reverence for family structure and other structure as well.

Because the Iranian people have lived without many of the luxuries that we as Americans enjoy, they have learned great restraint. This restraint is a key ingredient to understanding the mystery inherent in this Culture. Because of their ancient history the people have vast reservoirs of knowledge from which to draw upon in order to perform the simplest to the most complex activity. Restraint means to think before one acts. It can be likened to the art of cooking, where one uses just the right seasonings to take one on a subtle journey of the senses, bringing one into an inner harmony and naturally slows one down.

The Iranian People are very polite and reserved. They seem to intuitively know just what is needed to say or do. Because they don’t like to offend anyone they often say less, but what they are communicating eventually is understood. That which is not spoken in Iran is far more important than what is spoken. I wondered why it was that since I always spoke my mind openly, why these people couldn’t do the same. I had to learn patience before I would be able to understand exactly what they meant.

Speech is an element in this Culture that is used in a vastly different way than I was accustomed to. In many of the ancient writings of the Masters of Persian Poetry and Literature one learns that out of the necessity to protect ones life and honor, one had to keep a strict vigil over what was spoken or written. Historically, a language evolved with hidden innuendos that disguised the exact meaning of the poet’s intent. Out of a desperate need to understand the people and a desire to communicate, I allowed myself to be threaded through a massive mechanism that demolished and crushed my hopes, fears and naivety and fed me into the Iranian life-stream. Not only did I get a deeper understanding of my own self, but it also worked to integrate me with the land, the culture and my art.

I found myself in the Garden of Paradise in Shiraz, Iran. The discovery of the garden I had sought all my life served to unveil my own self to me. Its silent beauty helped me to go deep within and hear the inner voice speaking to me of that which I had always longed to hear which created a profound turnaround in my work. In this environment, I found I could reach effortlessly for the color that matched the outward expression of The Inner Heavens I was experiencing and apply it. I realized the perfection in the gentle subtle beauty of the choir of colors that exploded before me. As I listened to tapes of the ecstatic classical singers of Iran: Ali Reza Eftekhari, Shadjarian, Shahram Nazeri, and Aiine Mastan, I felt myself suspended above the garden in Shangri-La. It was easy here, where Heaven meets Earth, to paint from my highest aspirations and to forget the cares of the world.

I had longed to find my Inner Garden of Paradise all my life and now I had found that garden outside my self which mirrored the one within me. All of a sudden there existed an inner clarity I hadn’t known before which manifested in my new paintings of the Cypress Tree with a Raven and Cypress Tree with Raven and Crow and then Heart of the Cypress Tree. While I was painting the Mulberry Tree in Hafez’s Tomb and Garden, a Dervish came in and sat in the middle of the square on the ground. I became frozen, stopped painting and was unable to do anything. When he stood up and walked over to the Mulberry Tree and placed his hand on it, the intoxicating radiance of God’s presence tunneled towards me underground through the grass, past the Mulberry trees and entered into my heart and soul, filling me and the painting with the wine of God’s divine light and love.

I have always loved Persian literature. One of my favorite Persian poets, Nizami, wrote the tragic tale of Layla and Majnun. It is a story of human love that became divine love. Majnun is the tortured figure wailing in the wilderness, amidst wild beasts, crying out for his Beloved Layla. He shares his lament, each a magnificent poem, with the wind, a passerby, or his loyal animal-friends, begging them to carry these messages of his longing to his love. This story along with the ghazals written by the famous Persian poets Hafez and Sa’adi have inspired my work because this most melodious Persian language of love summons the most magnificent imagery of the heart and is useful in fanning the flames of inspiration. I find respite in gardens and in animals where naturalness prevails in an Age where modern man has progressed so far that he has misplaced the keys to the door to a natural life with beauty and simplicity. The animals and the other symbols in the Persian miniature paintings meant something secret to the Old Masters and now I was learning what they meant for me...

In Iran I experienced Noruz, the celebration of The New Year and heralding in of the spring. The extended families rejoice in Nature by camping in tents in the gardens, mountains, jungles and by the sea. During this month-long celebration, they picnic, play musical instruments, and just commune in the glory of Nature. In America, we seldom take a trip to the country or sea. It is an integral part of an Iranian’s lifestyle to take pride in the beauty of their land. There is a profound and fundamental connection between the people and their ancient land which makes one realize that the complexity of this people stems from their ancient heritage. One of the oldest civilizations on earth contains many secrets, from the exotic flavor and rich tastes to the language of the heart, expressed in the poetry of the greatest poets that ever lived. The world is waiting to be allowed to discover the abundant secret knowledge behind the veil of Persia which beckons us to awaken the beautiful nobility hidden deep within our soul.