The Spark:
A Story of Voice, Art, & Iran
One artist’s response to silence, exile, and the need to speak when it matters most.
| nami’s art
The Spark:
In 2022, during the Mahsa Amini protests and the rise of the Woman, Life, Freedom movement, I found myself in a creative and emotional state I hadn’t felt in years.
At the time, AI art was new. Still raw. Still underground. Social media platforms hadn’t yet begun shadowbanning or suppressing it. I realized I had a tool, not just to create, but to communicate. To say something that mattered.
As a first-generation Iranian American who fled Iran as a child after the Iran–Iraq War, I had seen the cruelty of that regime up close. I carried with me the weight of exile, the loss of homeland, and the ongoing ache of watching a people suffocate under systems meant to crush their spirit.
When the protests began, I couldn’t stay silent. I couldn’t pretend art didn’t have a role. So I made a choice. I created a series of AI-generated images. Visual representations of power and oppression within the regime. These weren’t just outputs. I used AI only as the raw foundation. Every piece was then manipulated, edited, and reshaped in Photoshop, with intent, with voice, with purpose. I wasn’t just creating images. I was channeling a people.
The response was overwhelming. These images were printed and held as protest signs in cities around the world. A young boy in Melbourne, Australia held one of them high. Protesters in Berlin carried them through the streets. My digital work crossed into the physical world and became part of the movement. A visual voice for those who had been silenced.
Later, several galleries in Europe featured the series. Each piece was heavily customized, refined, and intentionally crafted to reflect both the rage and the hope of a people demanding change.
Eventually, the work became part of Princeton University’s digital archive, as a contribution to the documentation of the Woman, Life, Freedom movement.
You can view the collection here: Princeton Digital PUL – Nicolas Nami
That series wasn’t just art. It was my attempt to turn pain into voice. To use the only tool I had at the time and aim it toward something real. For a brief moment, social media became the only place Iranians had to be heard. And I tried to help them be heard.
Later, I came to terms with a more complex truth. The path to democracy in Iran is longer, deeper, and more conflicted than I had hoped. The regime still holds power, in part, because of complex social and cultural realities. But that is not the point of this story.
The point is this: that moment was Purposeful Creation.
It was using every skill I had to say something.
To reach someone.
To try to make a difference.
That moment became a turning point. I realized what I had done for others, I could help others do for themselves. For artists who struggle to express what is in their heart. For creatives who feel lost in the process. For people who have something urgent to say, but don’t yet have the tools or clarity to say it.
This is why I do what I do now.
Not for applause. Not for aesthetics.
But to help others speak. Clearly. Courageously. With intention.
That is the work. That is the path. That is the voice.
