The night of the 29th, shot as a continuation of Abraye Noghrei 3 — the next plate in the series, not event coverage that happens to include you. Black and white. The halo backlight. You small against a big sky, the CN Tower where it already lives in your work.

Alongside it, the live vertical: gimbal from stage-side and in-pit, dragged shutter, light smeared into trails — the grammar of your Dubai film, on a King West rooftop.

The narrative piece. Twenty-seven months since PERC — and the language you built there is still yours: locked-off wides, long holds, one pale spot of colour in a black-and-white world, lyrics burned in small at the lower third. A short film about the distance between a basement and a stage, cut to land before Istanbul.

The inserts carry it, the way they always have in your edits — the watch face, the hands, the smoke, the city through glass. You direct. We build the room around the shot you already see.

The studio build. Zirzamin Ta Ershad put the type inside the photograph — a stack of Persian broadsheets doing the work a layout never could. We build that world physically: a newsprint set, a long table laid the way you laid it in Ramz, real paper, real ink, one red element in an otherwise grey room.

Shot as a batch day — enough frames and setups in one session to feed months of covers, visualisers and posts. Everything from the day is yours to own.