Nov
That black kurta speaks of the pain I endured. This next one I hope to be of healing.
This olive green kurta is also about five years old now. It has seen me through many days and nights of painting. Every splatter is a subconscious mark or gesture of joy or frustration. There are deliberate wipes across shoulders and sleeves when I could not bother to find a wash cloth. There are slashes of paint wiped across my upper torso. It is another in the series of portraits and self-portraits I talked about in a previous post about narrative story telling. It shows you the other side to the story that is my life.
It is full of colour and unexpected splashes of unrestrained joy. To any one else it will appear dirty. To me it is me. And here I begin the healing process. I am going to take this kurta apart completely and then start to patch and applique new, found and definitely old material. And put more paint on it!
I am going to create a new tapestry of deliberate colour and form. I am going to re-invent myself to a happier me 🙂
You can read the various posts about my journey thus far here or just go through these four links that I think will give you some context of where I hope to take this series.
- I love my life which culminated in this post – Equanimity was MIA
- One word
- The lines on my face
- X – Marks the spot