The title of this album my attempt at translating the Farsi phrase قارچ‌های غربت to English. It comes from the poem "The Sound of Water's Footsteps" by Iranian poet Sohrab Sepehri. 

A more literal translation of the phrase would be Mushrooms of "Ghurba", an originally Arabic word that has several meanings, including senses of estrangement, alienation, loneliness, being away for home, and longing.

I composed many of these pieces during and after Israel's 12 day war on Iran in the summer of 2025. Being  an Iranian living abroad for 15 years, I had never felt Ghurba the way I felt it this summer, as I realized more and more that Iranian lives matter to exactly no one.
Ghurba and all its meanings overshadow most of the pieces in this album. 

The music heard on this post is the final track, which is an improv piece with the same title as the album.

In the album art, I tried to depict a mycelial network creeping up the piano and my body, and expanding into the ground, maybe a thread or two reaching the other side of the world where home is.

As Sepehri's poem says "Who cares if sometimes the mushrooms of ghurba start to grow?" 

You are right Sohrab, nobody does...

Thimbles, Pencils, and Pomegranate Paste

Forgot10