Since 2012, I have been collecting strands of my own hair. Over the years, the colour, texture, and volume have shifted, tracing the physical passage of time and the evolving stages of my life. This piece presents a decade-long archive of my hair, woven with personal and cultural meaning.

Alongside this visual diary is a written reflection on my relationship with hair, identity, and womanhood as a Kurdish woman.

For you, hair is just hair, but for me, hair is also women, pain, invisibility, destruction, silence, shatter, beat, hide, demolish, voiceless, fear, punishment, brutal, and at the end revolution, protest, solidarity and freedom.  In memory of Jina Amini.