Madi mami

Madi mami took a while to make, not because it was difficult, but because I was buzy doing glass painting, and this was done while I waited for the oil painting on glass to dry, before the next layer. The character and the design aremy own. My original drawing was a bit too tame, and also difficult to do with paper machi. This character is a cross between my mom and mother-in-law, on one of those festival days.

My Spring

It is spring! Though spring started earlier on in Atlanta, with trees in full bloom, it has just started for me now. The reason is that I am forced to spend the best part of the most beautiful season, with a stuffed nose and irritable eyes, thanks to the pollen in the air. Since I became pregnant, my body it seems, will not accept the fact that pollen are not dangerous, much like how fundamentalist religion views the rest of the world. They (I mean the histamines) quickly swing into action, like over protective rakhee brothers, filling my nose with mucus, and filling in more once I try to empty it. Not caring a bit that their enthusiasm may cause me to suffocate in my sleep. If I had a runny nose I would not much complain, at least even though I need a kerchief , at least I will breath, but I hate it when it feels as if there are 2 stubborn toads in each nostril, refusing to budge even at the threat of blowing up my face from the inside.

So I take my medicines, and nasal sprays, and try not to wander out too much. I watch for the pollen count, and perform my rain dances, in hope that they will ease my sufferings. So even though I love to garden, I am stuck indoor for the best months of the year, sneaking out with a mask, when I cannot bear the suspense that spring solves with its coming. Did the perennials that I grew from seed, really survive the winter, and show life. Did the stupid rabbit, destroy my new beauties before I can see them flower? Should I take my seeded tomato plants for a breath of fresh air?, or bring them back right indoor. Spring, the season that fills me with optimism and joy, finds ways to pull me down. So I decided that I would wait and celebrate spring at my own time. When the rains wash away all the pollen, and the plants have finally borne leaves it is spring for me. Till then it is season of color and life that I see through the window of my house or car. I will still sneak in for a feel of the fresh air, after every rain, but just like my adamant allergies, I will refuse to call it spring, until it has really sprung for me.

In love with Patachitra

The art of Patachitra just fascinates me. It is a folk art from Orissa, that dates back to the 5th century. The painting are made using the easily available materials in the villages. The canvas is prepared using a mixture of tamarind paste and lime stone on cloth that is let to dry. The pigments used are made from naturally available materials that is indigenous to the state. The pictures usually depict the Lord Jagannata mostly, but also are popular for their representations of the stories of lord Krishna and rama, and many other gods and godesses that Hindus worship.

The introduction alone does not justify the beauty of the paintings that can be seen. Their vibrant colors just draw you to the paintings. Though the central theme is a god or goddess, they are not represented in divine centric paintings , instead most of them are story boards of various stories of the gods and goddesses. Our eyes are not just stopped at one epic central theme, but are invited to wander all over the painting, taking in minute details, of how the artist represents the gods. The borders are equally rich, beautifully framing the theme. These paintings remind me that people don't want their gods in a pedestal, but want them to be almost human. Each character is given a personality, not just background to a theme, but with a story of their own. For now I will just satisfy my addiction, by trying and painting one.

Patachitra fire place screen

" Strange is this world of Pata paintings, a world in itself, where every article and ornament keeps its unchanging shape, its place and importance, where every animal has its own stylized features, every personality its unerring marks of identification defined by the ancient texts, religious myths and local tradition. It is a world of myths and gods, but still more it is a world of folk imagination, the reflection of thinking and of the mental scope of millions of Indian peasants, fishermen and craftsmen, their joys, their hardships, binding faith and exacting beauty. So the paintings speak the language of their creators, they give realistic expression, a clear symbol, humorous details. They are familiar to the eye, close to the heart, bringing joy and expressing life".

My first project

This metal embossed picture of the Ganesha was my first project. The picture was based of a terracotta sculpture I found as I scanned the web for ideas. The metal embossing part was easy, all I had to do was trace a predrawn image into the soft metal with a blunt wooden tool. The texture I gave it was what took a bit of effort. I had to poke a lot of holes to make the image stand out, and feel framed. The paint i applied was metallic copper which I painted and removed with a rag cloth, several times till i achieved what I liked. I mounted it on stained plywood, with a heavy glue. The trimming i added at the end is just varnished.

A world with my hands

I Started working 2 weeks after my last college days and was a workaholic. Neither marriage, or motherinlaw changed the craze or seemed to slow me down. Then one day a bundle arrived that changed every thing. I was a mom, and taking care of the little one become my job. I was home bound and baby bound. People who become mothers will tell you that baby caring will take up all your energy and attention. Yes my busy toddler had me physically exhausted, but I craved a mental challenge, that I missed from my working days. I worked in the creative field back at work, Now I touched the computer only if I had to search something i needed to know for baby care. I found myself talking to my former office colleagues about babies, and other mothers with babies about my work. Things had to stop before I lost control. So I began my journey into painting . Every day for two hours (the time my baby slept in the afternoon)I painted and painted lost in the world of colors and thoughts, all my own , full of rich stories and ideas, and suddenly the dam had burst, I have now become a paint-o-holic, unable to stop doing projects after projects. Now all my spare time(something I find is getting even more scarce as my toddler requires even less nap time)is spent on creating a world with my hands.