I became obsessed with understanding the Islamic Revolution, what had transpired in the country, and how women fit in. I took it upon myself to make a grand project of exploring militant women who were faithful to the revolution and fundamentalism. I was like a person who wants to write a book, then finds a premise. I just created a body of work that raised questions. It was like a sociological study, looking at interesting, contradictory viewpoints.
I never thought of art as a career and a way to make money. At Storefront, we never made any money. My husband and I were the only staff members, and we and our son were living hand to mouth on a shoestring budget. Sometimes there was a struggle to pay bills. I gave up a job at a textile company, making stupid things, for living this way—on the edge, making something out of nothing. Art was an extension of life: a set of questions and circumstances that you experience. We struggled in New York, but we lived richly, meeting the most fantastic artists and architects. Eventually, I made a little money from my artwork, and I couldn’t believe that I had a little bit of luxury. Struggling was an important experience for me.