In September 2022, amidst the unfolding revolution in Iran, I observed the events from Dubai, illuminated only by the flickering light of phone screens. Daily, unfiltered videos emerged, only to vanish during internet outages: women discarding their hijabs, young men injured by projectiles, and teenagers being forcibly taken away in unmarked vehicles.

With no safe way to return to Iran, where I had dedicated six years to documenting life under oppression, I felt a profound sense of helplessness. This work arose from that anguish, serving as both a record of public violence enacted by the state and my personal, remote witnessing of these events.

Utilizing publicly available protest footage, I began to extract still frames from videos shared on social media and capture them directly from my screen using a Fujifilm Instax camera, which produces instant prints. My goal was to disrupt the ceaseless stream of digital imagery, transforming fleeting pixels into tangible objects.

This approach evolved from my earlier experiences in Iran, where I used an Instax camera to create portraits for strangers, offering them as yadegari, or “something to remember me by.” These small mementos served as both gifts and records, imbued with a sense of intimacy and caution. During the uprising, this same principle gained new significance, turning the medium into a means of addressing rebellion and suppression.

One notable image originates from a protest video in Tehran, depicting crowds gathered around a bonfire in the street, joining hands and chanting, “You’re the pervert. You’re the whore. I’m a free woman.” This moment transformed derogatory terms into a powerful act of resistance against the regime. In the face of fear and oppression, the human body became the primary site of struggle, rejecting the previous status quo.

I captured the silhouette of a young girl, likely a teenager, with a high ponytail, set against a backdrop of smoke and neon light. The grainy, pixelated quality of the image conveys the urgency of the testimony over technical perfection. It marks a departure from my traditionally composed, high-resolution documentary style, embracing what German artist Hito Steyerl refers to as the “poor image,” recognizing it as a politically impactful form of testimony.

This photograph is part of a broader collection derived from fragments of protests. In January 2026, following state-sanctioned massacres and executions, I began to burn the Instax prints as an expression of mourning. The fire left scars on the images, mirroring the violence they portray. This act was not about erasure; rather, it was a means to counteract the stillness of the images, allowing them to embody and express rage, sorrow, and resistance.

For me, this photograph embodies both rebellion and change. It continues a practice rooted in care and observation while adopting precarious, low-tech methods to respond to a movement that demands bodily autonomy. It resonates with acts of rebellion both public and private—on the streets, within homes, and across generations—and contributes to an ongoing, evolving narrative of resistance.

Parisa Azadi is a visual journalist and artist of Iranian-Canadian descent. For more information, visit parisaphotography.com.