Art. From the heart.

Farrukh Dhondy (Novelist, Short story writer, Screenplay writer, Journalist. ) wrote a piece in the newspaper today about Indian art where he said that that most Buyers don’t know a Matisse from a Mattress or a Chagall from a Shag-all. He said there are thousands of idiots out there with more money than taste or sense and most of them just want to boast about the price and that they will tell you what they paid as you try to take in the composition of the hung artifact. May be Dhondy is exaggerating a wee bit but yes, I hate to admit, he is right.

Most people are flummoxed when it comes to Art. I have written previously too about Surrealist and Modern Art and Niall Young, who is an amazing artist , a hyper pointillist (and a wonderful human being) agrees with me. He says “I favour the viewer/listener/reader to discern their own meanings.” If the picture ‘speaks to you’ it is Art. If it moves you in some way, if it fills you with a sense of awe, if it compels you to look at it again and again, if it beckons you, fascinates you and allures you, it is Art.

Since I paint myself, I know how much of feeling and passion goes into a piece. Like most Artists, I can paint only when I feel deeply. When mere words don’t suffice, that is when I turn to my paints. It is a compelling, driving, extremely deep and a powerful force that makes me take up my paints. I have no control over it. When it evades, it takes over me completely. The image flashes in my mind and the thoughts go round and round in my head until I must spill it on to a canvas, else I’ll burst. Once I start a picture nothing else matters till I finish it—I forget everything—I forget I am a mother, a wife, a woman, a person. I forget hunger, thirst, pain, irritation. I go into a different world. The high lasts a while and when it is over I am emotionally drained. That is how powerful Art is to me.

I don’t claim to be a great artist, but my paintings are a deep expression of something that moved me—something that affected me. I cannot paint ‘just like that’. (Unless of course they are landscapes from photos or a scene in front of me that I am depicting) Most of my pieces are bits of my pain, my joy, my sadness, my frustration, my amusement---it may not be wrong to say that they are bits of my soul.

Here is one I made a while back.

Sometimes people whom I hardly know ask me casually to paint a picture for them. I just smile and change the topic. The truth is, no matter what others say or think about my paintings, they mean the world to me and I paint for myself, not for others. There are only very very few people for whom I have painted and gifted my paintings to. Making a painting for someone is like writing a poem for somebody. It is a gift from the heart. It cannot be demanded or bought. It has to be earned.

I made another one for a good friend recently. It is a simple picture—Ink on handmade paper. It is called ‘Happy as a lark’. The photo fails to capture the beauty of the handmade paper. But he still liked it.

And I was happy.

Oh and yes, one more thing--if you liked my pics, don't forget to leave me a comment :-)

If you want to view more of my paintings click here.