Gaia |
Monday, November 29, 2010
A Spirit in my Bubble...?? o.o
Gleam? Sparkle? Wonder? Reason? Choice?
Sparkly Reason |
"Like a little child
With a sparkle in her eye
Her mind's window opened
To this crimson world's gleam.
Choice she heard, in one ear
Must be your own cheer.
Yet a craving she felt each night
To voice what she feared.
Then it was revealed
Wonder and reason must combine
For she would gain from it,
Something divine."
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Expanding the Bubble...
Finding the Centre... |
Friday, November 26, 2010
Finding a Bigger Bubble...
More than two months passed before I picked up the paints again. The urge to paint was incredibly overwhelming but there was always something or the other standing in my way. I felt like I had regressed and needed a pick me up. I delved off the inspiration of my first monochrome painting, 'Touch' and the fact that the second one 'When Green turns out to be True Blue' was actually that I emptied out most of my poster green paint onto the canvas board. Working with my hands and poster paints with the music on sent me into a trance like state which even had me jump out of my skin when my dad came to speak to me. :) An hour and forty five minutes later, I had this.
From the Rushes... |
Every time I look at this piece, it gives me a sense of renewal, like a phoenix rising from the ashes or a child peeping from behind the rushes with a sparkle in his eye.
For the fascination that I had like the little child that appeared to me in my mind, when I did this, it just wasn't enough. I wanted to add more colour, I felt the need to intensify the next one. But one thing that stuck in my mind were the words 'Flow' and 'Fluidity'. It became my expression of how I have come to sense everything around me blended with the peace of mind I feel inside.
Finding the Flow... |
While the big bold textures and hues of From the Rushes brought out one side of me Finding the Flow allowed to me to delve deeper. And more of the urge to be bold again was to spill over derived from the queer sensation that a purple sunrise instigated in me.
Midnight Blue in Purple Sunrise |
When one medium isn't enough...
Thoughts, patterns and motions embed themselves in the back of my mind constantly. Although I never know what they would emerge as, everything I sensed i.e. heard, saw, smelled, touched, tasted and felt always influenced the outcome. I found a friend in oil paints, its stifling smell of linseed oil and turpentine and all. The paintings that followed my textured paintings had all that I sensed, from listening to Paddy talk about water habitats to the way I felt conflicted and safe at the same time to watching the sun trying to peek out at down from behind the cumulonimbus at dawn. Colour has become my language and the brush strokes my words but the intensity of the unknown that lies beneath the surface has baffled me.
Fire and Ice?? |
Fishy Business |
The Morning's here... |
And the winds of change blend the windmill of colour...
Paper wasn't enough anymore... I needed more. Brushes were no longer enough. Patterns emerged in my mind and they wanted to be spilled out onto something more. Something that would endure longer than just sketch pad paper.
What got me to these textures and hues? Its been the constant movement of my mind in rhythm with the music that floats in the room while I indulge myself in the gooey texture of poster paints. Over the next few months, shades, tints, pattern, texture became all that mattered to me.
The layers and layers in each painting revealed more and more of myself and dared me to move beyond what I knew how to do.
What got me to these textures and hues? Its been the constant movement of my mind in rhythm with the music that floats in the room while I indulge myself in the gooey texture of poster paints. Over the next few months, shades, tints, pattern, texture became all that mattered to me.
The layers and layers in each painting revealed more and more of myself and dared me to move beyond what I knew how to do.
Safe and Sound |
Touch |
Sunset Breeze |
When Green Turns into True Blue |
Bubble Bubble...
A trip down memory lane always brings to light a new beginning. Way back when (that would be about 12 years ago) I sat in the doorway to a grill enclosed tiny balcony and painting quite a realistic hornbill. Where the painting has gone... God alone knows. It isn't the painting itself that brings me back to this memory...but the urge inside of me that burns to smear paint on my hands or pick up a brush or sponge and create fine strokes or dab in circular motions or simply feel the coolness of the paint on my hand when its mixed with water. Although the urge to continue to create was constant and the medium changed over the years several times, it is the combination of the media that has led me to be able to use colour as a form of expression.
What words cannot do, the language of colour does far more.
Painting itself was tucked far behind at the back of mind for quite sometime but it never stopped me from using words to express myself or keep the juices flowing by sketching in every book and in every corner. Over a year ago, I was at a desk job craving for a catharsis and definitely a deep need for a creative outburst. The catharsis I'm not so sure about but the creative outburst was a definite yes.
Hence I commenced once again, brush to paper, to find my centre and to feel the rhythm flowing through my mind, flow through my fingers and show itself in colour, texture and pattern.
What words cannot do, the language of colour does far more.
Painting itself was tucked far behind at the back of mind for quite sometime but it never stopped me from using words to express myself or keep the juices flowing by sketching in every book and in every corner. Over a year ago, I was at a desk job craving for a catharsis and definitely a deep need for a creative outburst. The catharsis I'm not so sure about but the creative outburst was a definite yes.
Hence I commenced once again, brush to paper, to find my centre and to feel the rhythm flowing through my mind, flow through my fingers and show itself in colour, texture and pattern.
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