Shedding season

Notes to self

On crappy days like this, once you're done with the rant of how it is all unfair, do this: distance yourself, take a deep breath and look around. See the unfairness around you, the daily injustices that you pass.

Unfair is - a family of five living in a four by six room, and a family of two sleeping upstairs with a bedroom to spare.

Unfair is - a dog getting a tumor and maggots, and no-one helping for three years.

Unfair is - when flood washes away whatever the terrorists left.

Unfair is - those chickens crammed together in a tiny cage, knowing their lives are wasted and death is around the corner, and you just walk past them on my daily commute.

Unfair is - that sweet lady who smiles and cleans toilets, but no-one knows her name.

Unfair is - the labourer you pass on the way to work, wears his one torn shirt, and you're late because you couldn't decide what to wear.

Unfair is - the middle aged store worker has to call you 'sir' or 'ma'am' even though you're half his age.

And you know what else is unfair?

Vegetating in front of the TV every night as your drawing skills fade away.

Forgetting how to sing when you are lucky enough to be born with the gift.

Straining your eyes on a bright screen when you know how precious your delicate eyes are.

Giving this body an accelerated decay, because you are too tired to use it for anything else, after sitting on it the whole day.

Unfair is - giving up a little bit everyday just so you don't have to face yourself.

Does all this make you want to count your blessings? Would you ever want to switch your life with someone else now?

Trends

Are we as a generation so scared / unhappy with the present that we want to regress to our childhoods? What's with the current obsession with 80's blast from the past (fashion, music) and fantasy (game of thrones, superheroes, gaming etc)..?
Just a thought.

This is why I studied design.

During the time of the Buddha, a wealthy king gave 500 new robes to the monks. The cost was nothing to him yet he was attached to his wealth, so he questioned Ananda, the private secretary of the Buddha, "I have given 500 new robes to the Sangha, what will you do with them?"

Ananda replied, "I will keep them in storage."

"Why?"

"Only when I find that a monk's robes are worn out I will give him one of these new robes. This is how we use the donations we receive."

"And what will you do with the old, torn robes?" asked the king.

"From the worn robes I cut out some portions and make bed sheets."

"Good. But when these bed covers are worn out, what do you do?"

"Again I cut out pieces, and make towels", replied Ananda.

"Good! But when these towels wear out, what do you do then with the cloth?"

"I cut out small pieces and make small hand towels."

"These will also wear out; then what will you do?"

"I will take small pieces, join them, and make some washing rags for those who arrive with muddy feet."

"Wonderful! When those also wear out what will you do?"

"I beat them, pulp them, and make something useful from the pulp."

"Wonderful!"

No excuses

I believe

that

Seed of doubt

..that once takes its roots..

....

Monsoon

Unending Rain

Grey, cold...

Separation

Old friends, mellow songs

Nostalgia...

Lost in the future

Uncomfortable goodbyes

Avoiding conversations

Guilt, love and hope

There will be sunshine tomorrow.

Why I have so many empty notebooks

Dear Diary,

What should I tell your empty pages?

Those creamy textured sheets, untouched… yet.

Should I wait for an inspiration…

To have beautiful flowers grow on you

Soft animals running around

Playing peek-a-boo

Tall buildings with firefly lights

Pretty people walking by

In fabulous clothes and high heels

Childhood memories of the games I played

Summer holidays and paper planes

Making rainbows with prisms

Or should I fill you up with

Word upon word of angst and resentment

Of fading dreams and emerging fears

Should I soil your pages with these dirty thoughts

Just so I could have a clean mind?

It is for this, dear diary,

You still sleep in the blanket of dust…

I’ll wake you with colours someday.

Illustration Friday - Bottled

It's not really a good idea to keep things bottled up for a long time... :-/

I am

i'm the magician, turning gravel into potpourri
i'm the concoctionist, mixing fallen leaves together to make a tree
i'm the chameleon, tossing along a rainbow
i'm the soil, beneath moving leaves and falling shadows
i'm the dormant volcano, that may or may not have its day
i'm the south pole, waiting for a summer
i'm the percussionist, posing for a solo
i'm the lone butterfly, living in the belly
i'm the new crayon, itching to draw
i'm the grass at the far edge of a forest fire
i'm the tea, simmering and bitter
i'm the prose, between hand and paper

Illustration Friday - Stir

Stir, stir.. and soon enough, you have a whirlpool

Stir…. Stir

As the coffee goes cold

While you

Think…. Think

Of stuff new and mostly old

Stir…. Stir

The past and the future

And then

Jumble and join

All the pieces together

Stir…. Stir

Dig deeper and deeper

Just

Break through

A layer and another

Stir…. Stir

Till a whirlpool you fake

And so

Breathe…. Breathe

As you lie awake…

Ha!

Cul de Sac by Richard Thompson

Blah

Twitter is the new blog, Facebook is the new Portfolio site.
Wonder what bloggers will do...
:-/

One of the broken resolutions..

... to sketch everyday...

2011

should be the year of creating order out of chaos
.... the year of restarting old projects
.... and finishing some...
.... of sunshine, positive thinking and a good posture :P

Season's Greetings!

I printed greeting cards out of my illustrations. It's like a funny cycle of going from paper to digital and back to paper.. and now these photographs..! :)

So true!

Late night Friday, passive conversations.... and wondering what the hell am I doing here.... :-/

I've been featured! :)

At...

http://ofindianorigin.wordpress.com/2010/07/22/bags-of-colour/

and...

http://popserial.tumblr.com/search/shivani+gakhar

yay! :)