![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFrfXwO1YKw203e6Yk0Bi-kTNifYTbsuQj37vhjlY9YXeeV2eUo93Q-45Koc8J-NFl2pXFupbCelFpobwalWAt0fTPo5qaa3Vlt0psu1FaE-_iiZj2NV5caR79cpzImu4pvLTwCcclsh3k/s640/04+21+lariha+house+reflections.jpg)
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG8pRVERWrQ_6Rm8zOlbs7LGfk9v9HXs5xkANxXR4FmewMYpGEIPJ1e9gEx4ar1y2ET57J6sSHGdzsdJefOF2kdRAKjy-64KO6QIN6ARuBoDaCNlAShDh27kzkkjbdsaW7e-0rAWwsLs87/s640/04+21+mosque.jpg)
Yarn in soft colors, waiting to be woven into carpets; shoes made from the traditional Yazdi cloth in a store window; an old wavy window in the Lariha House complex reflecting the pomegranate trees in the garden; looking up, up, up at a squinch at the mosque.
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