by Dennis Augustine
As a human being, as the husband of a Jewish spouse and as someone with both Persian, Jewish and Israeli friends I’m moved by the beauty of this imagined world: two citizens, not governments, sitting on carpets, trading recipes, drawing postcards instead of drawing blood.
But I must be honest. I wrestle with my own anger. How can peace take root when the ruling regime in Iran leads with “Death to Israel, Death to America”? That chant isn’t just noise—it’s apocalyptic. It’s hard to imagine coexistence when that’s the starting point.
And yet… this postcard stops me in my tracks. Because despite rockets overhead, these two artists dream:
“Let us meet again, not in fear—but in art.
You’ll draw cacti in swimsuits, I’ll sketch Iranians playing matkot. We’ll sip mint tea, trade our grandmothers’ recipes—Polo with dried hilba for you, gefilte fish with sleepy carrots from me.”
They write to each other, not as enemies, but as humans. They speak about children, comics, embroidered postcards as intricate as Persian carpets. About peace not born of Iron Domes or Shahab rockets, but of open hearts and shared laughter.
In a world of shouting, they whispered with ink. In a time of war, they reached for watercolor. Maybe this is where healing begins—not in treaties, but in quiet acts of creation.
As John Lennon sang; “You can say I’m a Dreamer, but I’m not the only one.”
Artwork by Zoya Cherkassky
Postcard narrative by Zoe Engelmeier (Postcard Painter)
