Of A Collaboration: Rose Gold Skies, Jacaranda Trees, and Dreams - Part 1

I have always loved the idea of collaborations: multitude of ideas mashing and meshing together, divergent skills and perspectives merging into a hugely textured confluence. Even though I don't know that much about Hindustani classical music, what I am familiar with is the notion of jugalbandi. I had always sought to perform an artistic jugalbandi of my own, what with my writing and someone's art. I was curious to see how someone would respond to my work and vice versa and what new doors of thought and looking would the jugal-bandi open into my work and hopefully, their own too.

When I initially started following Vidya Gopal's Instagram account, she was @spink_bottle for me for the longest time; however, we soon began exchanging comments, notes on IG, and emails, seguing into food for thought conversations about creativity, productivity, what we were reading, and whatnot and - it all recently and happily reached a 'shall we collaborate?' moment.

But first, a word about Vidya's truly beautiful water-color and ink illustrations; if you cast even a mere glimpse, you will find yourself swimming through thoughtful, whimsical, colorful painting studies about flowering fuchsia bougainvilleas, dreaming, eccentric women, budding Tendulkars, coffee drinkers in a cafe, gulmohar petals migrating from hand to paper and so much more. These paintings collectively could form a lovely painting novel of sorts, as we encounter a brilliant school of characters and their environments, becoming familiar and fond of their quirks and foibles, all expressed through the medium of illustration. For so long, I must confess that visual art had been purely about the dramatics and technique of aesthetics for me; however, Vidya's story paintings have compelled me to much more strongly consider the sheer story-telling element as well.

Our collaboration therefore resulted in us responding to each other's work through our respective modes of expression. This is the first part of our collaboration and Vidya chose to depict a jacaranda tree I had photographed few months ago silhouetted against a rose gold sunset sky, interpreting both the photograph and the text which I wrote to accompany it. I will leave for you to think what you will of this superlative work of hers below; as for me, it simply made me very happy to look at a painting which gorgeously captured in essence both the sky and the jacaranda tree as well as the addition of the dreaming, langurous girl (me?!), which so powerfully marries my words and image. 

 My image and words

I dreamt of a jacaranda tee last night; it was blooming in a planet galaxies away, in a world where the color of the night was the palest, softest rose-gold. I stood on my tip-toes to touch the velvety mauve blooms but before I could do it, the dream evanescenced and I was left with nothing but the memory of a sky and purple on my finger-tips. 

Vidya's response

Thank you so so much, Vidya and in the meantime, here's hoping that I will do justice to your lovely paintings!

Watch this space for the second part of our collaboration:)

The Stream of Consciousness/Poetry: Boxing Memories via Instagram

Multiple Memories, Pittsburgh

On a recent long-haul flight, I ended up re-watching the Hindi film, 'Yeh Jawaani Hai Deewani' and something about the opening scenes snagged my attention. The leading lady, Naina (Deepika Padukone) is reminscing about a life-changing trip to Manali she took several years ago and once she eventually finishes flash-backing and drifts back into the present, we find her surrounded by keepsakes she has preserved from that trip. It got me thinking then about how I too once upon a time used to similarly and carefully preserve objects - notes, cards, gifts, trinkets - which had great sentimental importance and store them in pretty boxes...and more importantly, why I no longer do so anymore. Coincidentally, soon after I landed home, I received a message from friend and fellow blogger, Khadija, telling me how many things she had recently donated and how she finds that she doesn't seem to attach importance to these objects anymore. "I don't want things anymore," she told me. "Suddenly, they have no meaning and are just taking up space."

Leafing Through, Pittsburgh

I was quite a bit of a collector during my childhood and teenage days and I must say that the habit still persists; I continue to collect fallen leaves or feathers and will often place them in bowls or dress up my coffee-table with these found treasures. Yet, these objects increasingly hold ephemeral significance for me; as soon as they cease to fascinate me, I do not have any compunctions in bidding them farewell. Unlike earlier times, when I would bring back home a pinecone or a pebble or a shell as a physical, tangible reminder of a holiday or experience and steadfastly hold onto them, I am now finding myself shoeboxing memories, so to speak, in written/visual form. An object can easily shatter or be misplaced or simply disappear...a visual and written record is more durable and permanent, and ultimately, much more effectively bottle the mood and spirit of a moment or a journey. Suffice to say, I would prefer to photograph the object and memorialise in it in that fashion, rather than keeping the physical object itself!

Raspberry-Lime, Pittsburgh

Looking Up, Warwick Art Centre

And so I have taken to recording my experiences - whether its daily quotidian (eccentric flower-bouquets, garlic bulbs, a lady bug) or preserved-in-amber worthy (dramatic sunsets, clear, jade Puerto Rican seas) - in a daily diary and for the past one year, particularly via Instagram. What with my phone being my third-eye, constantly observing and documenting whatever catches my fancy, Instagram allows me to specifically curate these moments. If my phone camera roll is a stream of consciousness, Instagram becomes poetry, streamlining and condensing these moments into intense, singular experiences.

In addition, it has made me even more sharply and vividly aware of the river of sights that streams past me every day; what I earlier may have been oblivious to re-presents itself in form of quirky visual messages instead. I am learning to distil beauty from the mundane and create dream-like stories from a family of otherwise merely sundry individual objects.

Chopsticks, Pittsburgh

Morjis, Muscat

When I cast an eye on my feed for the past eleven months, moments brilliantly leap out to me, like a fish arcing from water at dawn. They are safely stored away in this virtual chocolate box of memories, allowing me to re-experience nuances of these special coordinates of time as if they happened just yesterday, rather than long ago...

How do you preserve your memories? I would love to hear!

June Instagrammed

I mentioned earlier about my new-found obsession for Instagram - and suffice to say, it is probably the form of social media that I enjoy the most at the moment. I post there much more frequently than say, twitter or blogging, finding it more effective to communicate a mood, a moment, or simply an arresting visual through a picture. Or perhaps, it would be more accurate to say that when your mind temporarily experiences a word-desert, then the visuals can take over and do the talking:)

Here is June instagrammed below (by the way, is anyone else also feeling surprised that the year is already half over? I mean, didn't it just begin?! Or maybe it's because the days simply seem to whoosh by in the summeriness?:)

Upside Down Twilight

Apart from an occasional theatrical summer storm or two, June largely consisted of clear, bright sunny days and plenty of opportunities to indulge in gorgeous sunset-watching from the comforts of my balcony, a quiet field or driving in the car. Doesn't twilight look as beautiful even when turned upside down?

Ethiopian Supper

Not being a particular foodie, my husband had to coax me into trying out Ethiopian food for the very first time and I can't say I was disappointed. Knowing little about the cuisine, I was fascinated to discover that there were plenty of vegetarian options available and of course, I was most drawn by the injera, whose appearance, texture, and even slightly sour, tangy taste resembled the South-Indian dosa. I loved how it functioned both as a plate, utensil to scoop up the various portions, and a filling meal on its own. (Also, testament to its impact: this is only my second foodgram!)

In Repose

I attended the Roads of Arabia exhibition at the Carnegie Museum, which provides a profound insight into Saudi Arabia's archaeological wealth; above, a funerary mask abstracted from gold. 

The Unbearable Beauty of a Rose in Full Bloom

Roses. Summer. Phone-camera.  Can a girl help it?:) I have endlessly taken numerous pictures of roses of all sizes, shapes, textures, and colors in the last month or so but this one is clearly my favorite. Such a rose appears to be at its most redolent and beautiful when sprouting from its parent plant; clipped and stuffed in a vase, it will quickly lose its charm, becoming diminished and lesser work of beauty altogether. 

When Mirror Became a Door

Walking back home from a street party held in a popular neighborhood shopping area, I discovered this triad of abandoned sofa, mirror, and mattress outside a house. I scarcely write poetry these days but somehow, this sight inspired me to write a poem about it; here are a few lines below:


A mirror becoming a door,
a sofa a wall
and the mattress a gate
and they said hello
and we said hello
Walking away,
we heard them laugh and sing along to the unmusical music,
reveling performing as actors
after months of being themselves.

How did your June treat you? Any exciting plans for July?