The Portrait Exchange

Exchanged portraits with Andy DiConti. In my room after a long movie so here’s a crude photograph version of my

 drawing of him.

I’m getting braver with my drawings (was always brave with my mixed media but my drawing skills are raw, see, so it takes a lot of inner pushes to actually get myself to draw outside or when people are watching over my shoulder).

 Share the journey.

This is the building opposite where I live. Mybus stop is just under this. Drew this early in the morning while waiting for my bus to uni.

 I expected to go back home onmy in November and last week it all changed! Now I’m going home in two weeks time and I’m just back from a spectacular weekend in Newcastle with ‘A’. Suddenly, March has become The Month of the Year. Kathmandu, here I come! This is Boudha, its one of the last places I went to in Kathmandu before leaving for London. You have to see this one large and in landscape.

I can’t deny that I’ll miss this city. I won’t even try. I love its charm and the lights around the cathedral at night and the brief (very brief!) periods of sunshine and it small hidden art treasures…I could use some serious summer, though!

If you happen to come to Glasgow you CANNOT leave without walking the following route and visiting all the places marked there. These are not the only places you should go but they’ll d for a start.

 Drew this portrait in the library while reading a book of his poems. I always like to have a face to a name. However, to be 100% honest, I have to admit, what made me drew this man was the pronounced curve of his upper lip.

And here’s a message to leave you with. Drawn in Starbucks.

What have you been doing?

Have been obsessively watching CSI NY.

Scanned in the top of the inside of my scanner for interest.

Page from my square journal used to draw in while watching TV.

 In love at present with: sunshine, prawn stirfrys, and my ticket home.

Fall in Love

28.01.2008

2:58 pm

Weather report says rain starts at 3pm today. so I am parked inside Caffe Nero with my toasted ham and cheese sandwich and my notebook for the next few hours to watch the rain, smell the coffee, hear the whirr of machines, listen to Tracy Chapman and write.

I love this particular table in this particular cafe because it has all the ingredients of a moving, stimulating place- the mood and vibe of a coffee shop and a straight view of Queen Street Station- farewells and welcomes are always moving and always endlessly watchable.

Nothing ordinary ever happens in Queen Street Station. Every look, every hug, every touch is heightened by the significance of the moment of meeting or leaving.

The writers life is a good one. Long hours in long polished-wood cafes. Slow strolls around cities discovering places beyond maps. Succulent ham and cheese. The constantly floating aroma of coffee beans. Wet scrawls made with a fountain pen full of deep purple ink. Cravings for lemon cheesecake and writing prompts. Fragments of dreams that find their way into odd poems.

Passion in any one thing in life can spill over into all other areas of life. Drenching everything in its vibrant sweetness. You only have to let it.

The playfulness of approach that began in my art journals has found its way to my writing, to my adventures with cooking, to saying ‘yes’ to creating an arts group in a strange new city, to sipping French Martini while we discuss next month’s issue of the magazine.

Taste. Savour. Celebrate.

Whatever (or whoever) you love, you can carry that depth and joy into everything else.

Find a muse.

Fall in love.

Smile at the sky

STOP

what you are doing and slow down for a minute.

Put down the mobile phone, stop the power walk; shift into a slow, comfortable amble and a deep, long breath.

Tilt your face away from the book, the screen, the floor and throw your head back to face the sky.

Look at its enormous blue. Grey. Black. Twinkle. Breathe it in. Wherever you are, there is a sky above you. Look up. I cannot say this enough-

L.O.O.K. U.P.

There is a kind of kindness that can only exist in a heart that smiles at the sky.

Glasgow, Caffe Nero

Watching the world go by. Heads down, walking fast, in a hurry to get somewhere; always in a hurry to get someplace other than where you are. Not enough time spend looking at the sky, into children’s eyes, listening to heartbeats.

P.S. WordPress is a royal pain in the arse for not letting me put a paragraph spacing before Glasgow, Caffe Nero. So know it’s there…and for not letting me change the font size of bits of the sentence. Blogger allows so much for flexibility! GRRR

I feel

Go watch this talk today.

http://www.ted.com/index.php/talks/view/id/144

And then write a post on how you feel today.

I feel inspired by the sea of orange lights outside my window today.

SHARE THE LOVE

There’s not a Shakespeare sonnet

Or a Beethoven quartet

That’s easier to like than you

Or harder to forget.

 

You think that sounds extravagant?

I haven’t finished yet-

I like you more than I would like

To have a cigarette.

Giving Up Smoking, Wendy Cope

 

Share the love. Give someone a poem. Give up smoking.

So it’s a new year- this is always a time I wait for…not for anything as much as the writing and art inspiration it gives me. In reality, it’s no different from any other day of a year..except, as I said, in inspiration. I think, it’s a whole new year-imagine the promise! And that immediately opens me up to imagining the promise in so much else that I run away from otherwise.

The pressure is big sometimes to wish for the biggest things, see the most dramatic results, receive the best.

Perhaps it helps if we think of it this way- what do you have in store for this new year rather than what does this new year have in store for you. If you see the new year as newly born, precious and vulnerable, and impressionable; like holding the wrinkled, soft body of a new born child in your arms.

2008 is here and it will forever be remembered by what we do in its lifetime. Like 1945-forever remembered for the horror and pain it saw, impressioned forever by us.

What do you want to imprint of the history of this year?

My friend and flatmate, Maryam, are taking our slow baby steps into the world of cooking. We made noodle soup the day before and cream chicken with mushroom last night. Teach us more. Tell us what you know. Tell us what you learnt from that lasagne you tried to make. Share a favourite recipe.

Share the love.

  

Sharing the Magic

I’m just back home after a while of travel and as always, travelling opens me up and expands my mind in a new way. A little bit of travelling whether to another city, a continent halfway across the globe, my own city, even just in my mind bends my mind in ways nothing else can. And so, I’m back from a little holiday with my favourite friend and full of fresh ideas and a new drive.

So, this is to share the magic.

Go travel.

Leave home with your camera, a notebook, some cash (or none), walking shoes and wide open senses. Walk slowly. Look at the people- the look on their faces, the slant of their eyes, the charm in their smiles. Take photographs of buildings you like and people who smile at you and anybody with green hair. Make maps by hand of places you went to today. List names of shops and cafes and museums and train stations and street names along the way. come back home with a camera full of inspiration and a notebook full of observations and a brain full of ideas (street photography projects, a mini book of this lovely city, a blog post on travelling, a wishlist…) and a heart full of… just full- a heart that’s full.

Then tell me how it was.

What a year!

I’ve turned 22. 

What a year 21 was!

Born on a humid Bombay night within the pale green walls of Room #2 in Sophia College, welcomed by the hushed singing of people I absolutely adore. The soft conversation with A full of love and memories- oh what a year 21 was for us! A thoughtful, unexpected gift from Pallavi and Surabhi and the long friendship that grew from there.

The discovery of Chamki and the many days and nights of art and inspiration and stationery shopping and soul baring and note giving that followed. And our week long vacation in Nepal full of art and learning and hugs and a volatile, evolving friendship between us. More than anything, I think that trip taught us generosity.

The arrival of the magnificent Bhots in Bombay, changing the face of Bombay life as I knew it- unavoidable Chinese restaurants and exquisite desserts and long conversations by the sea and merged friends and lots of laughter and bad jokes.

And a surprise, fleeting lover- an unexpected, delicious time of long drives, nights in a plush apartment, double dates, playful intimacy, sparks.

And of course, I came here to Glasgow at 21.

Meeting A for the first time since we broke up- the first night spent in Glasgow in the room next to mom and dad crying softly, trying not to be heard, hugging tightly, unwinding the knotted cord from a year ago.

The slow ride from strange names, unfamiliar street maps and lone walks to entering a place where known faces wait for me, nights are busy with versatile company and bank balance is settled.

And Aleah Chapin was at 21. The result of a chance email from a Seattle artist and four soulful meetings in cafes and tea houses in Glasgow. Four meetings in her last month as an exchange student at the school of art led to long walks to the West End, the discovery of new and exotic tea houses, a journal collaboration, a photography project idea, an introduction to the Power of Hope organisation and an email from them about their training program in London next year. A burst of ideas and company and inspiration.

And the long 5 month stay in Nepal full of art making in my own studio, meeting and rebuilding family bonds, lounging around in my pajamas all day, long drives with the excuse of a coffee, exposure to realities that are easier to ignore when I live outside, cars with drivers, homemade sushi, family drama- things that remoulded me in some way after spending years and years away from home. These were months to fill with whatever I wanted and what I wanted then was quiet and rest and art and exploration and time with my beautiful puppy Pepper and my little cousin Asmi and getting to know mom and dad more and letting them know me more (this almost happened… a little bit. As much as is possible to happen at 21 I guess.).

And Maddie- the friendship that began with a commitment to an email a day for a year and unfolded into pure magic. In her I found a friend, a mentor, a charm and constant love… and possibly the one who understands A and me in a way that is true.

All this, right up to the time A kissed me Happy Birthday at 11:59pm on December 19^th 2007 was 21.

Now its 22 and so far, it has already seen incredible kindness, a fresh drive, a change in perspective, and, possibly, new love.

 

TELL ME WHAT YOU KNOW ABOUT LOVE