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 Café….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

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!

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

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

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

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.

Entry 5 - A little more or less

And exactly how much more is less, or how less is more?
Somewhere it struck me over a random dinner conversation with a couple friends. Sometimes it so happens,that we miss out on or maybe never get to know little details of closest of people in our lives.
Just thinking of a string of fictional incidents
The drunken calls after spicy soup
The fish on the footwear
Or the retaining the symmetry behind upside down

Feels weird to start with but true, we do take things for granted and not know favourite colors or films or whatever. Takes me back to college when the quantity of sugar for that cup of coffee still remains intact in memory but not the persons existence, or the Lebanese non veg platter with Kalhua shots at Pebble Street, or brunch menu at 32 milestone or chicken cartilage at 26 AG or Keema Ghotala at Mocha has people associated with it. I know the kind of coffee that’s Sedas alarm or the yummy eggs and sausages roger cooks on a wasted day or the cold coffee at manis jus when u are ready to storm out for conquer another long day or the crabs that light up Irenes eyes.

What does it mean? Knowing these details definitely means you care, but is the perfect judge for setting the chart-topper. Don’t know,but ya, with some people it makes all the difference,like the little princess knows everything I like or don’t like and vice-versa. Thank god for some people like that….knowing that you are sharing them with other people but what you share with them is copyrights reserved, and is an extremely limited edition.

2nd Sept 2011

Entry 4 - Chor Baazari

One of those monsoon mornings where u sulk to have woken up at 5 in the morning but still have the butterfly in the stomach to go explore, first of its kind in this stint of Bombay and the agenda was to experience it. Google came handy in trying to discover the feel of it, and then it happened…the Friday clothes bazaar,midst small galis and hundreds of people in motion. They all looked focused about their destination though it was the human sea that kept them moving through spaces.

The architecture was tactile, old mossy houses…dented walls and broken window panes. And one could also get a peek into some houses, rusty grills and old, greasy ceiling fans…blue or dead yellow walls adorned with tacky wall hangings and bright frames. And some of them like almost all Bombay houses, did have a string of clothes desperately trying to dry themselves. But one frame that remains in my head after all these days, is that freshly painted Mughal archetype building on both sides if the little lane and they are joining hands with the help of the tin sheet roof and tattered tarpaulin, its so old that that there are fully grown plants on it. It feels like a living time travel static on your face.

Since it was a Friday the other artifact shops remains closed but what one could see through the glass openings and making efforts to catch a glimpse was old lamp shades and wooden chairs and it did smell of antique stuff one could afford  I am very hopeful about the chest. There was this shop called Bollywood bazaar, can’t wait to lay my hands on it.

However the paya was disappointing to the extent I wanted to throw up, and knowing that I can eat anything, please imagine how bad!! And there was the chai stop, in the butcher hall, and the kid with the tattered t-shirt smeared with meat blood. Something stung me, its not always by choice…..often by compulsion. Not so nice,but true. Did we ever know there was second hand, fourth hand spare parts of Bentleys and Mercs . This country in the most familiar spaces doesn’t fail to surprise me.
Oh before I sign off, was there for a friends quest to find miniature insects, but we came back empty handed but hearts hankering for more, just that someone zoomed into work at 8 am in the morning while the other bindass, didn’t get to work till 2 in the afternoon.

30th August 2011

ENTRY 3....Subtitle

Yes I felt I enjoy titling posts, like its almost like the kickstart
The rains here have started getting under control.
But the buzz in the head is more of Test 1, Test 2, Test Signal,This is test Signal
Its a good high, and madness. My threshold of patience has gone up,its almost like after a point of being crazy you say to yourself.....let it flow.

And currently its almost a mad house, the inhabitants here are all basking in the mad-test disease. Varying degrees, so its a very at home feeling. But personally would have preferred a nicer,defined cliche as creative madness over random-ness.
Yes random is a quirky,but not whimsical,n not often fueled by negative emotions.

Lost teh zeal,basically got bored trying to recreate emotions!

ENTRY 2

I am hoping to carry on with Bombay dairies for a while...
Damn I can whine right now,but honestly,I am not worked up...and that tactic feels good :), one guru taught me so.....
What else....rains practically drained the city and then what happened....one random encounter,like do what you want to do phase,hoping across to some good conversations and colored liquid

The rush gets higher....touch,feel,believe ;)

BOMBAY DAIRY

ENTRY 1


It feels great to be back, specially that day when I was waiting for r for roger by the sea and the long drive to nariman point, serene…..if I could change anything, subject of conversations. The sea looks amazing and so does the salty taste in the mouth but then the mundane took over, battling freaking daily lives and people with inability to find happiness in the smaller nuisances, like flowers or rain clad kali-peeli taxis or just waltzing across roads. Found an antidote to that – smoke, and not coloured smoke!

What’s with the attitude?
I mean this is not what/where I left. Yet another blast, and taking it as if it’s the way of life, being numb about it and saying back with a vengeance.

Chaos is the way of life, but what happened to the rhythm to madness

Tantrums has a new meaning, like the Bollywood dream is full of it, is that survival or sheer boredom?. How fast are we running that the whole deal of waiting to smile has disappeared? Haven’t stopped to say hello to the rains or say hi to the sudden sun burst, or just being temperamental because it frees the captured soul

However textures feel nice…something that was so tactile was created on a big canvas.
And then the lights and the sound and the camera angles
The best part however was of the zillion characters on which one could write a story, and make films on them or the thesis about the disorganized labor in the industry.

Its buzzing,and whatever is negative is just fad,and not real except for spaces
And it just takes an imagination to bungee jump from the top of the sea-link straight into the sea

Till next time

Product Benefit

Walked in through that door
Feeling vague
Its one term that could be the middle name
Trash all around
Along with the scattered brain,mind and heart

One part of the deal is a blank sheet
The other jumbled
Normal,it looks from a distance
Detached it feels from within
And starts the 3 month trial period

Is it convenience or has it gone numb
or is it one of those things called
This too shall pass
In the city of dreams
Wanna be in love
With r for roger
And in here, forever
(If there is one)

Yet Again over juvenile discrepencies

For Judas and the mood she is in :)
By the Selfish Giant


Love on the rocks
Ain't no surprise
Pour me a drink
And I'll tell you some lies
Got nothing to lose
So you just sing the blues all the time

Gave you my heart
Gave you my soul
You left me alone here
With nothing to hold
Yesterday's gone
Now all I want is a smile

First, they say they want you
How they really need you
Suddenly you find you're out there
Walking in the storm
When they know they have you
Then they really have you
Nothing you can do or say
You've got to leave, just get away
We all know the song

You need what you need
You can say what you want
Not much you can do
When the feeling is gone
May be blue skies above
But it's cold when you're love's on the rocks

First, they say they want you
How they really need you
Suddenly you find you're out there
Walking in the storm
When they know they have you
Then they really have you
Nothing you can do or say
You've got to leave, just get away
We all know the song

Love on the rocks
Ain't no surprise
Pour me a drink
And I'll tell you some lies
Yesterday's gone
And now all I want is a smile

Martini

Tiny small olives
Three,actually one of three
Two sleepless nights
One edgy couple
Thin crust pizzas

And this is just the prelude

The alcohol is hand made
But not the wit
The paws on the neck are too on the face
So is the bling of "I play car race"

Eyes drowning in sleep
But not the mind
Text-pectations to be set or surprise has a better shock value
Is not really the question

The question is
what was I talking about again?
Oh yes,
Three,Tiny small olives
Three? Actually one of three

Means Everything

It doesnt mean a thing
Highly over-rated
And picking up pieces is not met under deadlines,not even without deadlines
Television makes no sense,nor does meat
Not even cigarettes....
I think I am suffering from caffeine and alien deficiency
I need to be abducted by aliens or meet Captain Hook or exchange lives with Peter Pan
But Peter Pan is stubborn and he hates grown ups, so maybe he will understand.
And together we will banish Captain Hook and I will keep his red hat and the tool box.
I need to dirty my hands with turpentine and lightners, but the black buck needs to fly in before that.

Of Cowards and Emotional Gibber.....

Something that was left as a draft way back in 2009...left it like tht,couldn't remember state of affairs,though the state hasn't changed too much,except that I am writing :)

Whenever someone asks me what I think he should do with his life, I always say, First, leave home. Get out there, where if you care to listen, you will find many other people dreaming of making connections and changing the world, just like you. The only mistake is in thinking that you will make an important difference in the lives of the people you're among. The profound difference will be in you.

I read this and it seemed the question I was pondering with is headed somewhere.
I try and do care to listen, I don't have a home for a while now, and after I thought I knew a little about who and what I am,they said intensity was a problem,emotions are a problem,and to top it all,the buck has turned to me.
I don't care about losing anything anymore, atleast conceptually.
I need to think more, a lot more than I do, and yes get so deep into the thought that I can't find myself anymore.

The sky last night was way too dark. The bright stars also seemed afraid to shine,but it still wanted to be seen,wanted to be somebody....
Sometimes I can scream my lungs at pretentions,but then as I take that one step back and think, I feel like a coward.
I want to do what I want to do. I mean go bagpack,hike across continents,live anywhere,love everything.....not think about money.
But the rebel seems to be dying a death,quicker than I thought and I feel perturbed that I have not explored enough. I do not have the guts to do so.
Read madly,watch rentlessly,create a cinema paradiso everytime with anything around.
I don't want this state of existence, where measurement is a way of life.....
Saw Kate,she inspired me.
Theres so much to do and I am not doing it....blaming it on things that I despise.
Just being an escapist.

My Speech over the Kings Speech

So this was intended to be the review of the two films that I saw back to back yesterday ie Sunday however, a lot more has happened in between for this to be only the reviews. And it scares me that to get back to the discipline to write reviews I would need dedicated time...by the way found a new inspiration,a friend,named Uddhav Ghosh...his zeal was something to look upto. I don't know why I am not consistent about things.

Anyways so The Kings speech...hero of the film Geoffrey Rush...and it tells me have to have to watch Mad Men,yes that doesn't take away the great performance of Colin Firth, specially in the crass brit humour and sense of disgust when he initially meets Lionel, or thinks about giving speeches and most definitely in the final speech to the nation when its out to go for a war, but must say all said the writer of the film,actually the screenwriter did a great job....some of the lines that stayed on -

Lionel Logue: Do you know any jokes?
King George VI: ...Timing isn't my strong suit.

Queen Elizabeth: [Using the name "Mrs. Johnson"] My husband's work involves a great deal of public speaking.
Lionel Logue: Then he should change jobs.
Queen Elizabeth: He can't.
Lionel Logue: What is he, an indentured servant?
Queen Elizabeth: Something like that.

King George VI: In this grave hour fuck fuck fuck perhaps the most fateful in our history bugger shit shit.
[singing]
King George VI: I send to every household of my p-p-peoples... The letter'P' is always difficult.

The storytelling is classic. Getting into technicalities,it was classic editing,cinematography, the art direction takes the trophy away along with lighting....and the Tim Burton-ish touch Helena Carter brings in....the slight quirk of a so called conservative dutchess of England. But the best part is the humane bit of the stiff uplipped brit shit....the rhythm of the curse...the fucks,the shits.

There was more but need a calmer mind to write it....and ofcourse not keep drafts for months. The date at the end of the post must say when I started it
And then there was No Strings Attached... Rom-Coms make me go weak in the knees,yes it does. But as the film it was nothing extraordinary except for performance of Lucy,Lake Bell,I liked the character, of a director and different as a woman, a pyscho perfectionist. I loved the script,some smart one liners and tons of mush at times, to an extent you wanna go aawwwhh. But somehow the lead pair's (Aston Kutcher and Natalia Portman) talent hasnt been exploited well.
As far as the story goes,the problem is that it reinforces my belief that 'friends with benefits' deal always leaves someone hurt; the joy was to see how all this lust did make so called not emotionally vulnerable people fall in love.

I came back home happy, with both the films,cinematic-ally quenched and thoroughly entertained.

April 3rd 2011