MOODY

Sometimes I'm so angry I keep quiet only because I think I'd spew flames and not words.

Some days I look at people I see everyday and I notice the worry lines on their faces so clearly, it is all I can do to stop myself from reaching out to touch them and offer comfort.
Other days I wish I could zap them into a black hole.

There are times I feel so unbearably, hungrily, gnawingly empty I wonder why I don't vanish into the vaccuum myself.
And yet again, I feel like I'm overflowing with every emotion and sensation ever known to humankind.

Some nights I go to sleep feeling complete and that all's okay with the world. And then I wake up with the unbearable thought that I'm still alive in this same world.

Everyone has days that sound like this. The only difference is that my days are series of moments like these.
I admit to having doubts right upto the last minute. I am not one of those poeple who is scared of needles but the thought of being etched for the good part of an hour is not particularly pleasing. Then I saw the colours....red, yellow, blue, black. And I thought of how they would look against my skin. I thought of art that would live as long as I would. And I took a deep breath and said, "Okay, lets do it"


Filling in the colours was excruciating. I paint and I can now appreciate, what a marvelous tool the brush is. I imagine if every single spot had to be painted individually, I'd lose my interest for good. The artist didn't waver for a minute though and not one spot of colour landed where it wasn't supposed to.

My expression throgh words.

I like to bring in 'art' as a tool to experience the aesthetics of this long journey of the life. 'Art' not only as a skill as the 'art of living' in the present-day context, but as an 'act of transforming', where culture and ecology are relevant. I introduce 'art' not merely as a tool giving rise to consumer products but one which opens up the gates of a wider vision, a supramental consciousness of beauty and inner perception of a world order.