“Rainy days should be spent at home with a cup of tea and a good book.”
― The Calvin and Hobbes Tenth Anniversary Book
Or in my case, a sketchbook and watercolours.
But I must admit that I’m not a huge fan of the rains, especially in Delhi-NCR, and particularly on week days. Because when it rains, the roads invariably get flooded, and new potholes appear miraculously and there’s no way of knowing where they may have decided to spring up.Continue reading
When you take on a big project, accountability and tracking your progress – both the successes and the failures – is important to not only see how far you have come, but also to see what is working and what isn’t. As I approach the half-way mark of my 100 day project – 100 days of painting intuitively, which I started back in April, I figure the time is ripe for an update.
As motivational quotes go, bloom where you are planted is one of the most ubiquitous phrases. But what does it mean? And more importantly, how does one know that they have it in them to bloom where they are planted?
The phrase stems from the natural world, where you can find plants, flowers, and trees blooming wild and free, often times in areas where you would least expect them. Like the Ginko trees in Hiroshima, Japan, which survived the nuclear blasts. Or the deodar trees that grow at the Tarkeshwar Mahadev temple near Lancedown, but are not found anywhere else in the area, because they actually grow at higher altitudes.
What this seems to symbolize is that with the right attitude and resilience of spirit, we can find within us the strength to survive almost any adversity.Continue reading
I’ve been spending some time at the painty table almost every day since last month, when I started my 100 day project. This immersion in painting intuitively has been a learning experience in more ways than one.
One the art front, I’ve found new supplies that I enjoy using; experimented with different tools for mark making; embraced art as process rather than product; and understood how to combine a variety of mediums. I’ve surprised myself with the ways in which my paintings have evolved and with the themes that have appeared on the page. And each of the paintings has brought forth something from deep within my soul, each of them with lessons of their own – on life, on love, on being.Continue reading
melancholia
/ˌmɛlənˈkəʊlɪə/
1: severe depression characterized especially by profound sadness and despair
Tense, irritable, I crashed into a fit of melancholia and found myself crying over inconsequential problems.— Susan Wood
2: a sad quality or mood
There’s a touching melancholia to his voice …— Ralph Novak
Like Wallace’s breakthrough novel, “Infinite Jest,” “The Pale King” is pervaded by an air of melancholia, an acute sense of loss.— Tom McCarthy
I’ve been experimenting with abstract art recently, and it has been fun – challenging too, but fun. I find that I tend to slip back into slightly familiar territory when I am painting abstracts – adding in leaves, plants, flowers, or figures as a focal point and to try and bring everything together.
In this latest piece that I did, I was determined to keep it completely abstract, using only lines and shapes and color to tell a story. And what a story it turned out to be!Continue reading
When I’m lost in the painting process,
there are impulses that arise,
dictating my color choices.
Ideas bubble up to the surface,
changing the direction of my painting.
Symbols appear between layers of paint and under my fingertips, Continue reading
“That’s your solution? Have a cookie?’ Astrid asked. ‘No, my solution is to run down to the beach and hide out until this is all over,’ Sam said. ‘But a cookie never hurts.” ― Michael Grant, Gone
It is no secret that most of us are suffering from information overload these days. From constant social media updates, the latest science and history lessons courtesy the University of What’s App, 24×7 news channels, to thought leadership articles and even humble blogs – content has exploded, and we are bombarded with opinions and views no matter which way we turn.
As with most things in life, this content explosion can be both good and bad. Continue reading
I spent May immersed in the 31 days of painting project. This wasn’t about creating 31 paintings {I’m crazy, just not that crazy!}; rather, it was about spending 31 days painting a single canvas. It also wasn’t about how much or how little you painted on a particular day; rather, the only rule, per se, was that you had to alter the canvas in some way. That could be the addition of a ton of paint or the making of a few simple marks.
The entire process is a meditation on painting, and life. About releasing attachment and being open to the process. Of enquiry and allowing instead of forcing and imposing your will. And as expected, a process like this one, can teach you a lot - about painting and about life.
So without further ado, here are my lessons from 31 days of painting.
Sometimes, I come to the painty table to play; at others, to relieve stress. Sometimes, I approach my art practice as therapy; at other times, I allow my emotions to direct my colour choices and mark making. And sometimes, I come to the page with deep reverence and to give gratitude for the many blessings in my life.
This was one of those times.
I’ve long wanted to paint a Buddha, but I didn’t want to paint Him with the usual peaceful face and closed eyes - you know the kind of Buddha painting I’m talking about, right? The ones that you find hanging in most home interior stores - pale blues and calm yellow tones, with a huge Buddha face, eyes closed, a serene look on His face.