Sunday, September 09, 2012

In love with the Artiste


This was hovering in my mind for a few months, since Promax. This was the first one in India that I attended. Well three years and first one….most of them had a surprised look, but when in Delhi there were more important people to be sent.

It was a great experience, and helped me to declutter, like what the hell it is to complain about systems and processes, let’s turn on to the creative process, meeting Rob Middleton and Justin Cone was the best of it all. And Petes CafĂ©….the wonder of the different kind of work happening all over.  Its not mundane, its different….and one of my favourite things, keep doing some thing constantly.
And then I met an old colleague who’s been around for a while. Even that felt good, the fresh perspective always helps and how veterans still are enthused with a lot of passion. And the negativity also goes out of the way. So therefore the story takes a different turn.

Someone told me long time ago, if there’s pain, do things you like and it will be different, not conventional, then that pain can create wonders! It’s about time maybe.
To start off with, let’s not romantize with the artiste within. It’s difficult to come in terms with the odd, not pleasant side of an artiste, a creator. The problem within me became clearer, trying to merge the regular and the non regular worlds. That man was very quirky, but his percentage of the regular world took a better of him. I just wish the love for the quirky bit doesn’t die. But there is no point being judgmental about the artist. That might end up clouding the verdict about what they create, thus being unjustified about the piece of art. Well, I can’t hate the art, because the artist in his/her persona evokes not positive emotions. All the abuses I think are manifestations of the whirlwind of emotions.

The conflict thus reaches the next layer. So is the emotional or the physical trauma inflicted on the other party, here partner, is that justified? Do we artistes get a levy, as Andy Warhol says art is what you can get away with. The trigger point personally that helped me to get over the never ending unhappiness was the trauma of the abuse. After all these months I am thinking objectively. Did I also somewhere inflict emotional abuse of any sort? No….not even at the cost of my creations being compromised on. And that’s why it was important to breakout. I was compromising on my art, not that I have achieved anything except what my profession entails me to. But I was losing the quest. I had stopped getting enthralled at the world of creations. I had stopped looking out for inspiration, I was getting stale.

Coming back to the layer, being twisted, defying norms is one thing, but what my observation tells  me is that we are at a point of transition. As independent creators and also as a race, we cannot figure what is it that puts our mind at rest. It takes a lot of self awareness and training to rise above the obvious. There is beauty in everything we say and see. But what happens to it when reality takes over. Why do we lose track of the basics?  What happens to true art, of the intricacy of creation, the turbulence of trial and error? It is a personal journey, often lonely, then why do we end up making the memory of creating that piece of art so painful for the other person, who is trying to support us through the quest? If we only pain ourselves why is it not enough? That means the whole expression of being liberated as an artiste is just to sound cool. We have not really evolved to be by ourselves and the creation.

The realization and the experience helped me for one thing, I have stopped expecting and looking for  artistic inspiration from the “significant other”. Its as personal as it gets between the creator and the created. If we both love each other, being in love with the artiste will be as romantic and thrilling as I always envisioned it to be. The times that are rough in the pathway to create, you will always have like minded artistes or experiential personas who will walk that patch with you. Art is personal, art is a reflection of my inner self, it cant be abusive to others in any way. Yes for those of us we do some form of commercial creation, we never raise our voices against commoditization of our sensibilities. We know it’s a cruel world and we despise it. Why then bring out the cruelty onto people who mean something to us, to the extent that we could walk miles with them.
From the time we write the first letter, to draw the first line, to splash the first stroke, creation is beautiful and constructive. Lets not use that to hide our own devils.
I don’t know if I will succeed. As of now its the Sunday tea and breakfast spread and being honest to what I create each day.

Salt Pepper and Crowded Lanes

I am alone,but not alone enough
I am terribly lonely but loneliness doesn't befriend me
I don't understand the politics of relationships
And the relationship of convenience
The economics of care makes no sense
Neither the geography of silence
The history is too heavy to carry,but too hard to let go
Abused in every little ways,every day
I fool myself with a mind of my own

I am homeless
But cant turn and scream at the heartless dog
I am lying to myself and crushing something like respect they say
I am pretending every smile
I have nowhere to go, while an open world ticket lies on the desk
Nowhere do I have a shoulder to rest on
Coz I always am on the go
I am urban, educated, apparently independent woman
But I live in the anticipation of the darkest hour
Midst millions of faces
I often find teary eyes
And I am waiting for someone to trigger the gun

I am alone
But I am not alone enough

Saturday, June 16, 2012

Swinging between Planets

It feels like living the life of an alien. Swinging between planets.
It makes no sense to me how and why the already complex things need to be layered?
And why do I have not been able to keep my cool!
Just yesterday and till the afternoon today I was happy as a wild flower and then came in memories and then trouble with folks....

Need the holiday
Till then,Saturday Nite time....a midnight in paris kinda film with some fresh fruity cocktail or maybe wine!

Sunday, May 20, 2012

Before the blues set in

So, I am in the next 30 mins going to wash clothes....
Didnt do the complaince training, was just toooo bored even thinking of it.
I did manage to do the opening of the wound and will dress it after I take a shower...sunday,I am allowed to not be clean....but the best part is....I broke the kitchen jinx and went out there....hash omlette and then the chinese sausage nonsense....with vodka.

It did hit me back a little again when Dadai called to say hello and then Dad called,but guess gradually I need to put myself back together. So the more I acknowledge, the better it will be.
For starters....Whatever you think,think the opposite is helping and planing the Goa trip in August.

And a little overwhelmed by these two friends I found in this stint.....it feels I was here all my life.
Stoney conversations,lazy afternoons and random musings.
For the rest, the mind travelled a little off the ground.
I thought of Ray a few times today and smirked at myself,I was just stupid to think of it as something meaningful.....I have cried there too, so what was the difference...not the men but what I was looking for in them. I guess a friend said it right, for some men its difficult to handle these women who are just so clear about somethings and so smoky about most of the others.

As of now, Bandra Boy saying...Move in, so that we can cook good bong food or just waking up to say...Abhish,my love...the question mark was gone today,brings a smile.
For the rest of the story, lets go with the flow.

And I said I would come back in the evening which is what I did.
So lets tick the rest off the list then...What say?

Sunday Morning

I woke up to a friends BBM alluring me to hot shot bengali food. Thanks to toe and a few other things cant do that.
The weekend has been laziness personified,but then I needed to rest, the toe..
Almost sounds like I am cooking excuses.
But the good part was,I switched the comp on and decided to not visit social networking sites....ok except for Mark Zuckerberg's timeline and went to check some print stuff on desi creative....havent done madness with fonts for a while...must do...the Stars @ 12 promo has all the opportunities...what say?

Anyways currently its the Star Plus show about which I am in two minds,in principle and in reality.
And then hit the doctor and do the washing clothes thing as well. And damn the compliance training.
Looks like a busy sunday, but what the heck?? All of Saturday I refused to leave the bed!

And maybe I will comeback here in the evening, if I finish the book m reading,lotza thots on that one

Thursday, May 17, 2012

Pledge


Here and there,quite all over the place. So time to get some good and not so good pledges to be made -

I pledge

1. to live well,from within
2. tell myself its OK to feel low,after all when was it love enough if it didn't pain enough
3. write more regularly  and finish reading books
4. work, a lot smarter and not let people command my head space
5. travel to new places
6. get up and go for my jog (but the toe has to be fine,cant start before)
7. be smart about my finances, save some money....keep tab of expenses
8. laugh more often and feel it
9. watch more films and less tv
10.not be lazy,get disciplined about life
11.not be afraid to acknowledge that sometimes it will hurt beyond belief,it doesnt mean I escape
12. not make life like instant coffee,buy a coffee machine instead :)
13.cook for myself and have a glass of wine with it
14.listen to old hindi songs and rabindrasangeet and watch a lot of rom-coms
15.meditate and find peace within myself

The universe is as quirky as I am, and this time as well, it will still keep conspiring
To life....with love

Monday, April 30, 2012


Mom turned 50 yesterday,seems like time is on a mission! I am glad I came back home. It feels good to be somewhere, where fears are protected. I slept without the need of noises and woke up, sometimes with a sinking feeling,sometimes normally. Spoke to Blue and Mom, they seem to be in conversation with my inner calling..... 90% I am prepared to let go of it, the 10% is just remnants of long summer evenings and stories of half a decade fleeting love and nameless things. Just tried calling,don't know why but letting go is my biggest weakness. But like we learn everything, this is something I have vowed to learn, since it will be a source of survival. The man from villages around the capital has been around, rather weirdly, its almost like two leaches needed one another to sing the night away. Strange ways we have! But yes no one can take away the Cinderella story from me, I am a director after all,I will make it come alive :) To long woeful nights and lost in translation days, bye broken promises, welcome new dreams

Wednesday, April 25, 2012

The Bat-tered story

They killed the bat, and I stood there midst the chaos.

Wondered how would the bat must be feeling.....but it had attacked us, and refused to go out and someone had to die in the struggle to survive!

Yes I witnessed the death and celebrated the victory, till I realized that life is just a matter of that moment.


In the memory of the bat, who would have either killed or died.....The Battered Story


This is a veryyyy old post - which was an experience in Delhi in 2009,Novemeber

What happened then?


I was wondering what happened? There's so much to write, I am writing notes on my phone,scribbling on my notepad. Kept everything stored, like the shots and short notes of the trips in October and December but have done nothing about it. I am guessing its gotta do with my lack of initiative and attention When there is time the easiest thing to do seems to be switching on the tv and watching that, what I watch is also not something that I know because its mindless and just keeps my screams inside my head at bay The best way to describe,thanks to Damon Albarn (songwriter for Blur)sings: sorry but I'm not really listening, I've got my mind on something. He adds: the whole world could have passed through me but I don't know that it means much to me. This is a transformation of sorts, I don't know if anything is genuine, not even pretension. Anyways, off to the city of joy for a few days, I hope to be at peace with myself.