Here are a few things that have happened over the last few weeks.
A and I drove to Bhimashankar a couple of days ago. The trip seemed to have been written on the trills of a bird song. It was that perfect, carefree, sudden, and meant to be. The world was new and green. There were places where the road seemed unending and empty, yet ‘full’, somehow. You could sense thickets of mist, rain and travelers thoughts. You could imagine shrubs of hope, freedom, and travelers’ tales. And you could feel the mussed up dance to travelers’ music. Rain …it’s what the soul feels like.
A also bought me a pretty box of paint. I have wanted to paint glass for a while now. There isn’t any formal training or great skill. Except that some days I’ll shake an empty jar of coffee and imagine purple swans and a red moon on it. So, I’m really happy with the paint-box now. (They are lovely little tubes and when you squeeze them, thick lush color oozes out. My favorite is the cobalt blue.) This morning, as my cook made poha, I painted a few swirly lines on the border of a picture frame. Looks infantile but I like it.
Ma had earlier bought a few house plants and I’m taking care of them now. I haven’t exactly converted to gardening yet but I absolutely love watering plants in the morning. There’s a steel glass I use to water the plants. Sometimes I water them late at night too. Just as a way of finishing up the day, maybe checking in to see how the leafy friends are doing. One night, I had hunched over to pour a little extra water over a tulsi leaf that had turned the colour of desert. It was a very pretty leaf. As I watered it, I saw a small spot of shine on my foot. The moon was getting reflected off the glass and landed playfully in my balcony. When it glinted off my nails, I thought how lovely the word ‘Twinkletoes’ was.
As of now, the house is messy but after visits from the art muse and the moonbeam, it’s squelching with well-being.
A and I drove to Bhimashankar a couple of days ago. The trip seemed to have been written on the trills of a bird song. It was that perfect, carefree, sudden, and meant to be. The world was new and green. There were places where the road seemed unending and empty, yet ‘full’, somehow. You could sense thickets of mist, rain and travelers thoughts. You could imagine shrubs of hope, freedom, and travelers’ tales. And you could feel the mussed up dance to travelers’ music. Rain …it’s what the soul feels like.
A also bought me a pretty box of paint. I have wanted to paint glass for a while now. There isn’t any formal training or great skill. Except that some days I’ll shake an empty jar of coffee and imagine purple swans and a red moon on it. So, I’m really happy with the paint-box now. (They are lovely little tubes and when you squeeze them, thick lush color oozes out. My favorite is the cobalt blue.) This morning, as my cook made poha, I painted a few swirly lines on the border of a picture frame. Looks infantile but I like it.
Ma had earlier bought a few house plants and I’m taking care of them now. I haven’t exactly converted to gardening yet but I absolutely love watering plants in the morning. There’s a steel glass I use to water the plants. Sometimes I water them late at night too. Just as a way of finishing up the day, maybe checking in to see how the leafy friends are doing. One night, I had hunched over to pour a little extra water over a tulsi leaf that had turned the colour of desert. It was a very pretty leaf. As I watered it, I saw a small spot of shine on my foot. The moon was getting reflected off the glass and landed playfully in my balcony. When it glinted off my nails, I thought how lovely the word ‘Twinkletoes’ was.
As of now, the house is messy but after visits from the art muse and the moonbeam, it’s squelching with well-being.
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