Nima was a skinny boy with long curly hair sheltering his shoulders in tight 70s frocks (once his trousers slipt at the arse hole when he bent down! ha!) and his Middle Eastern cute smile would win the hearts of men and women, girls and boys (even animals). You can certainly forgive him for anything for that contagious giggle and I adored him. Still do.
I was a skinny oriental girl, size zero, with a strange schkizzy style-trying to figure out whom the heck I was supposed to be. Nima would pick me up like a bat and swing me around the room, twisting me into all sorts of shapes like he were a ballon master at a kids party.
Partying turned out to be Nima’s forte, from this graduation film to his brilliant celebrity extravaganza Adidas commercials to his first feature. The Jesus boy from the 70s stole my dream of a career in the film business and took off to Hollywood! (In all fairness, it was his dream too – he just accomplished it sooner than I)!
Being in Hollywood is surreal. Its like being on another planet, one of dreams and stardust. From Jaws to The Goonies and ET – its a place of stories and visions of far far away lands. It made me smile, being there and standing on Dolly Parton and wishing on a star for graces of miracles and serendipity but all I got was a wack around the head by a random tramp with a newspaper – ! The same thing happened to me when I was walking down Fifth Avenue once in Manhattan! Why?! It was as if someone was pulling me down off the fluffy clouds.
After a dirty In-N-Out Burger and a walk of fame, I turned up at Nima’s quiet, green and floral street, in Hollywood. I hadn’t seen him in about 3 years and I kid you not, he squeezed all the calories from that burger out of me. From the moment I stepped into his door till I left the next afternoon, our mouths were in constant natter about this that and the other. But I am here left with so many unanswered questions, because we didn’t even touch upon matters and subjects, we just talked like old friends about our friends, about our love, about our life, about our feelings and what had been happening.
It was so goddam nice! Nima suggested he would take me downtown to see night markets and food stalls but that was out of the question – here I was with my friend, in Hollywood – all I wanted to do was see him and be with him. We called a cab at midnight and went to a bar, just-to-get-out, it was next to a “gas station” and we could’ve danced to the fantastic tunes but instead, we shouted into each other’s ears about love and stuff to do with love.
What can you do about love when you are standing at the greatest opportunities of your life (inside the doors of Hollywood) to achieve all your dreams and ambitions. Where does the priority lie with so much pressure on your hands, not just from yourself but from the demands of “the studio” and all that surrounds this life.
Can you be a great artist as well as a great lover – fulfilling the needs of your loved one? As an artist, a creative, can you truly love someone or do you just consume them with your own need of creation and expression? And at the end of the day, who do you love more? Them or us… or you?
Love seems to be an affliction on some people – certainly, I, am addicted to it, yet can’t really control it because like all afflictions there is a source and that comes from within ourselves: the maladies of life that we have accumulated with history. Wouldn’t it be nice to bring home someone and they stuck? That would make mamas happy…
Old friends, I treasure old friends, the ones who’ve shared yesteryear and still remain your friend even though you’ve worn some ridiculous things and said some stupid things!
We used to dance and party hard with our friends in London, the days when our skin was less flawed and our hands were less worked, Nima had a studio near The Marquis Of Landsdown in Dalston – these are perhaps the days he gets all his inspirations for party shots and scenarios. I want to dance with you girl, says a boy with his nose in her ear, whilst another is break dancing on the floor and we all jump and yell and drink and touch the roof of our youth, peaking in happiness.
I’ve never laughed so much, to the edges of my lips bordering onto my ears, my belly panging and me, I just relate to him, we eat cereals at night and have the exact same vibrating tooth brush.
We stopped talking at 530am whilst watching CSI in bed. Mid laugh, he fell asleep with his mouth wide open and snored like a donkey. Same here probably.