A4 hand signed reproduction C-type Print Matt.

These are my arms. The photo shows the strange way I hold my anxious hands, which are genuinely laid on Freud’s couch. My ex partner, Kaveh, took the image I had set up. I then printed it in the darkroom and hand-painted it in my small studio. I kept all the brush marks and dust from the process, preserving its natural texture and fidelity.

This is one of those sought-after situations when a dream job comes up. I was applying for a PhD; I knew what my subject was to be; it was about melancholia in fashion photography. Just as I started my application, I received an email from Smithsonian Magazine; one of the magazine editors had liked my work via various social media platforms for some years. They asked that I employ my much-neglected hand-colouring method in Freud’s former office space in London.

The space is electric, and you can feel every object, including his coach. It’s a deeply rich and strange multi-coloured object, a couch covered in Persian rugs, shaped and moulded around his patients over the years.

Freud didn’t coin the term melancholia; it was a medieval medical term, but he gave it a new, although borrowed, meaning. According to Freud, melancholia centres on a lost love object the patient will never know. The object or feeling must be a mystery for one to long for it. We are no longer melancholic once we know what we have lost and discover what causes such longing. We then begin a healthy mourning process once we know what we have lost.

So, this image holds personal significance for me. It reminds me that certain themes remain with an artist throughout their life, recurring and evolving in ways we may not always recognise. It also encourages me to remain committed to my work, staying tender and open to the creative process.