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Drawing from Life

I was only awkward until the robe came down; once it was down I was bare and felt liberated. In my head, it all sounded poetic, like there were gongs of freedom chiming in the background. But when I took a quick look at the faces around me, it brought me back to think how normal it actually is to pose nude for drawing. All artists in their own rights, going about drawing me like they would draw any other model, learning and practicing how the light played on the contours of my body. Not to say that the sense of liberation I felt was not legitimate. 
It all boils down to the aspect of where I come from. If and when my parents or the extended family back in India comes to know that I pose nude, I wouldn't know how they would react. They maybe okay with it or taken aback by the very act. It wouldn't change my view or decision in any way, but still I just indulged in these thoughts, like trying to interview myself in my head.
I recently came across this article from a few months ago…
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In a nutshell...

It was only a couple of months ago that I turned thirty. And despite myself I couldn't help but feel that I have tipped myself over the peak and now it's a down-slope, and that suddenly I am bestowed with the secrets of intellectual enlightenment. That feeling of overwhelming clarity lasted for a few days post my birthday; and then I was back to what I was doing in reality - painting, reading, watching movies in abundance, filling my head with ideas from the chaos around me and reclining back to my solitude to execute them. But something stayed back from those few days of 'overwhelming clarity'. No philosophy, just experiences.
So, in a nutshell, it goes something like this: There are far more important things in life to think about than security and stability.That one impulsive step needs to be taken to see how capable you are and how infinitely your boundaries stretch.You may have a number of dreams to follow, but until and unless you step out to give wings to at least…

Van Gogh's lust for life

I had the pleasure of watching the movie, Lust for Life, recently. Vincent Van Gogh's life rolls in front of our eyes with crisp colours and sharp chiaroscuro all around. I was just amazed that the filmmakers actually managed to bring out the characteristics of Van Gogh's painting into the movie itself, and this was back in 1956. The entire movie is weighed on the dialogues that flow quite poetically, and Kirk Douglas's Vincent Van Gogh, Anthony Quinn's Paul Gauguin, and James Donald's Theo Van Gogh are apt and convincing in their roles.
The warmth and love between the brothers, Vincent Van Gogh and Theo Van Gogh, the conversations and conflicts between Vincent Van Gogh and all other real-life  characters (Paul Gauguin in particular), the narration of the letters from Vincent to Theo in the background, the representation of Van Gogh's real paintings and more, everything adds to a delightful experience. 

Paul Gauguin's sarcasm and quick mockery of Symbolism ad…

A little something about my upcoming painting - 'Mi Guernica'

During my contextual studies in art, the one painting that stayed back on my mind even after the lectures got over is Guernica by Pablo Picasso. An anti-war statement, it portrayed in abstract form the tragedies and horrors war inflicts upon innocent civilians, and to this date it holds a monumental status among the masterpieces depicting war and its aftermath.
It was hard to not get engulfed by the painting's grandness. And, thus started my own rendition of Guernica. Even as our nation reels back from severe blows of corruption, war, terrorism, domestic violence, rape, it's equally dismaying to see that nothing majorly happens to prevent them. There is an uproar, then debates, then discussions, then mentioning, then whispers, and then people forget and move on. I'm no saint either, for I have my share of drawbacks. But, I believe there is a great deal of power in a piece of art to change the course of history. I remember a quote by Picasso I recently read. He said - Painti…

Do you still read comics?

I've often met with derisive sighs when they find me reading a graphic novel. It can be credited to the fact that in India graphic novels are not generally excepted as a literary piece or even a piece of art for that matter; but the bigger reason is the lack of knowledge about what goes behind the conjuring of a good graphic novel.
Let me not use a fancy term as Graphic Novel. Let me just call it a comic book.
So, what's not to like in a good comic book? The artwork is amazing, the literary material top-notch, the story a thoughtful experience! So, why is it that generally it's labelled to be read only by kids? Why not adults? I attribute it to the perception that adults (as opposed to children) know better. I believe as we grow we start compartmentalizing our experiences - these are childish, these are immoral, these are stupid, these are bad, these are good; all categorized in that invisible shelf inside our head. It's not our fault; it is because of the regular condit…

The muse named INSPIRATION

I'm sure every artist, every writer faces a slope down to rock bottom where it seems that the creative mind has gone AWOL. I can say this for I have faced it during my relentless quest to write a series of short stories. It doesn't give you any clue, but this total lack of inspiration just hits you home when you least expect. So, what was I supposed to do? Sit back and wait until my muse shows up? Well, that's what I thought I would do, and that's what I did.
Only two days later it started to grow on me that my muse, my inspiration, was not going to show up. All I had was two unproductive days. My guilt having half-eaten me by then, the third day I took the sheets of paper and pen, and rode down to the place where I always wrote my stories. That day I sat with the blank sheets of paper staring back at me with indifference. My muse didn't come. But, there was a sense of satisfaction nonetheless. The fourth day I went again, and again it was the same story. The fifth …

Art Hop and the people in it

The weather in Bombay (I still prefer calling it 'Bombay') was as searing as a frying pan this Sunday (Oct 27th, 2013), but somehow it only mattered for a small stretch of time as I settled myself around my paintings to display at Art Hop in Bandra in that late October morning. The excitement was building up inside me minute after minute. Technically it was the third time I was displaying my artwork to public. But, for me, it was first such display where people came only to take a look at artwork and nothing else. I wouldn't want to talk about the first two times now. You and I are going to have a long journey together, and that is when I'll slowly tell you the side-stories. For now, lets talk about what I felt at Art Hop.
It was only a day before the actual event that I realized how big a deal it was. People from various parts of the city hopped from one venue to another to witness and revel in the sea of artworks that consisted of paintings, photographs, installations…