Gardener

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Dammit

...and all that Jazz..

I'm plagiarising my own work. Since I don't think anyone has read my first few posts, here's a copy pasted something. Old wine in older bottles is what I like.

I'm listening to Charles Mingus belting out 'Take the train'. Wonderful wonderful jazz, you make a great accompaniment on the silentest day. You mesmerise my night. You make me want to get up and dance, oh you wonderful crooner! I step on it, in my tap dance shoes and fading tutu. I am a dancer again! I swish and baloosh and swing in the air, I jump high and what's more...I begin to fly...

Anyone got an image (photograph, drawing, painting, doodle, or any other sort of visual,even a lithograph will do), please send it and I'll put it up with this bit on jazz.

picture courtesy avalonian

picture courtesy 4th dwarf

About drawing from experience and drawing experience, itself..

Being content with oneself, on closer thought, is a different thing. I am talking about a different room, here. In this room, I feel, if there is some sort of pain, it leads me to think wider about other things, not just outside this room and in another, but outside the very box, if I may say.

In the absence of all pain, I fumble and draw compromises with cheese and bread, in contoured lines.
The experiences are utterly different. Much like being in different rooms in an art gallery...one, holding up paintings of Shergil, and another, empty, only with sparse pigeon droppings on windowpanes. These contrasts can perhaps both be classified as art of one sort or the other. However, the experience one draws from them, is what is and makes a world of difference.








(Having said this, how would I explain this drawing I made, it wasn't in happier times and yet, it is only an array of coffee mugs. I've called it 'Meloncholy', for now.)

Ode to a lost love

Interview

This could either be called a phantom interview or just a tete-a-tete I had with myself. You can decide whatever you'd like to call it. I'm just getting on with it.

- What's the colour for this season?
~ Fuschia

_ Why fuschia?
~ It's bright, that's why

_ What season is it?
~ Dull burnt sienna

_ Do you always think and talk in colours? (how boring)
~ Not always, sometimes I talk in patterns and nexuses too

_ Describe the moon, right now
~ It's the same, each night.
Some days back
I ate a slice ofwatermelon.
My secret lover stashed away that slice of melon,
batik painted over it
with stardust and put it up
outside
my secret window.
Now
my moonshines bright.

- I've run out of questions. Your answers are stupefying me.
~ Aye aye, ask me some more, I'm just warming up now

- When was the last time you did something really important?
~ T'was the day I decided
to make Oskar Kokoschka
my warm and lovely
flaming babushka.
it was the day
I knew
Gunter Grass
does never, ever go to
sunday mass.
I left
my burning afternoon siesta
in search of that
gushing truth.
The hot hornet's nest of honesty
that had hitherto evaded me.

- This is getting a bit too much for me now. One last question. What will life be like, for you,
a few years from now?
~ I will be a girl-woman
living on the fringes
with half dirty brushes
and half written verses.

- Goodbye!
~ Ta daa!

,,,,,,

Not my shadow

A needle deep under my skin
it doesn't stick out any more
embedded,
it hurts.
I'm sore.

When I stand
it rises
when i walk
it matches it's steps
when I sit it apes me
when I lie down
it makes me
want to crawl on all fours

I'm frowning wrinkles
bitter and sour

Everything's hurting
inside and out
upside and down
this way and that
every angle
hurts.


Slice by slice,
Slab by slab
Sliver by sliver

dust

pound by pound

pain.

We are all thingamajigs

Run run run
run
run
hurry
rush up
climb
that wall
and
this one here

don't!
look
down
look
up
up
up
up

and when you reach
where you're

headed

wherever
that is,
don't look back
keep going
going
going

tell yourself
time will heal
everything

but
keep running
don't stop
don't look back

run

numb
ness
se
ts
in?

sowhat!!

keep going
run
run
runrunrun