A mind's war is usually fought
Between two lands, such as this;
One, where it's never enough...
and the other, where it always is.
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Thursday, May 27, 2010
One looks around...
Recently, a friend told me a story about geese. When two geese fall in love and mate, the female sings a song when they are together. When the female is no more, the gander flies to the spot where he had first met her. There, he sings his partner's song until the day he dies.
*******************
The other day, I visited Jehangir Art Gallery and NGMA. There were a few interesting exhibitions at Jehangir. One had several oil paintings on the glory of the sun. I particularly liked one of a lithe man doing the Surya Namaskar on the steps of Konarak. Against the ochre background, a round, golden sun is drawn by seven horses in rainbow colors to the earth. I found this painting really innocent - like if you didn't know any better and simply prodded it on, the Sun would come down with you.
Another exhibition of digital art on the Bhuj earthquake was pretty interesting. There was one of two metallic figures kneeling around a fraught, messed up globe. One figure, twisted and broken, is trying to help the other one up.
At the NGMA, there are a couple of sketches by MF Hussain on Indira Gandhi. There is also a photograph of Meena Kumari clicked by someone else. All three are stunning, and in an unpinnable way, similar.
I know very little about art or photography. But these three works seem to hint at something so nebulous that I can't help but imagine that it's wonderful. After all, one is usually besotted with allusion.
One knows so much about these two women. One imagines so much about them. But to see them photographed and painted, their essence interpreted and articulated...its surreal, when you think of what fragility they stood for - pain and power.
*************************************
The story of the geese, the insouciance of art...sometimes, I feel that life is so big. It's big, because when you look around, or you get to know something, you are often stumped...just trying to grasp the heart's capacity to love and endure. To cope with loss or aim for the impossible so simply. To be this notorious, ingenious inventor...the one that knows that no matter what the emotion, there is always a language.
*******************
The other day, I visited Jehangir Art Gallery and NGMA. There were a few interesting exhibitions at Jehangir. One had several oil paintings on the glory of the sun. I particularly liked one of a lithe man doing the Surya Namaskar on the steps of Konarak. Against the ochre background, a round, golden sun is drawn by seven horses in rainbow colors to the earth. I found this painting really innocent - like if you didn't know any better and simply prodded it on, the Sun would come down with you.
Another exhibition of digital art on the Bhuj earthquake was pretty interesting. There was one of two metallic figures kneeling around a fraught, messed up globe. One figure, twisted and broken, is trying to help the other one up.
At the NGMA, there are a couple of sketches by MF Hussain on Indira Gandhi. There is also a photograph of Meena Kumari clicked by someone else. All three are stunning, and in an unpinnable way, similar.
I know very little about art or photography. But these three works seem to hint at something so nebulous that I can't help but imagine that it's wonderful. After all, one is usually besotted with allusion.
One knows so much about these two women. One imagines so much about them. But to see them photographed and painted, their essence interpreted and articulated...its surreal, when you think of what fragility they stood for - pain and power.
*************************************
The story of the geese, the insouciance of art...sometimes, I feel that life is so big. It's big, because when you look around, or you get to know something, you are often stumped...just trying to grasp the heart's capacity to love and endure. To cope with loss or aim for the impossible so simply. To be this notorious, ingenious inventor...the one that knows that no matter what the emotion, there is always a language.
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