Pre Quarter Century Prose

Theres a ticking bomb before turning 25
It's not the fear of growing older less marriageable more cynical less understanding more closeminded less fresh more jaded 

Its more about the less is more worry

that i wont know enough

that i have to know everything

that there is a growing gnawing craving animal within me

with sharp teeth and furtive, restless claws

tucked inside a warm snug cavity with rock

and dirt and mud and gravelly gravel all around

dying to get out,

to escape,

to jump around and split some skin and taste something new

to absorb it all through newly pinked raw skin and breathe through enlarged pores

alive and fully aware that there this isn't enough,

no its not,

theres a whole world out there that i have to devour whole

but actually swallow in parts

chewing up the nubbly bits

i don't know enough and i need to know everything and 

keep feeling like everyone i meet knows something

knows nothing

that i already know feel think and need to share question and understand faster better clearer.

(Please don't squirrel at me for the dotted 'i'. I know my grammar. I also know Emily Dickinson.)

Home Truths

Apparently,

I write better than I draw.

Thats the ultimate compliment,

 the overpoweringly orangely garishly pungent marigold garland of policitian fame,

for a writer.

No problem.

Very flattered, thenks.

Except that I'm supposed to well

be a designer

an artist

sometimes a lost cause

other times just a visual person.

Apparently,

I can draw better pictures with words.

It's on Loop.

I'm so lost that it's wonderful and not asking to be found.

Lost like

Songs on loop about the sea and and finding the stairway to higher hopes.
Finding a way to the ocean after wanting it for a year.
Air travelling into one ear and out another one.
Burrowing into comfort.
A lot of chai all at once.
A really long movie that felt less like a speech and more like a lyric.
People appearing like a cloud of smoke and dis-apparating right before brain freeze.
A line of books ready to be drank into skin,lined up on a clean shelf.
Consumerism over comedy.
Foolish frivolous talk without the alcohol kick.
Headphones is ignorance is bliss.
Treetops over very deep blue brightening skies.
Eyeball seeking dark room in bright house windows closed.
Writing today because inkpot is brimming.

So lost that I dont ask you to find me with a blissful smile.

A 4 letter word.

http://what-kaveri-seas.blogspot.com.
Thats my new,renamed domain.
For the art that I do,the scribbles I scan,explorations Im lucky to get myself into.
Its still called Sea of Inky toes,but the earlier http://moonskulled-sea.blogspot.com has died a premature death. I let out a silent sigh of relief.

Why the sudden change? No,its not the jibes at my poetical nonsense.(Ok I just added the poetical bit,certain fellow illustrators/batchmates giggle at the randomness!)
I appreciate poetical nonsense,why,Ogden Nash thrived on it like a glorious,absurd little hog-rose.
See,hog-roses dont even exist and yet a Nash fan could agree with me.

Ive been doing some thinking lately,as a student of design(yes,im embracing it) and loyal practitioner of the intangible nuances of WhatTheyCallArt. Conversations with Prof Ranjan (http://design-for-india.blogspot.com) have also lent me a certain amount of understanding regarding the clash of great minds between aesthetics and functionality, in the process of creating something.
Im all for 'art for arts sake',hell,Im a good example of someone who toes the line by doing a lot of work 'because I feel like it/it looks pleasing/I love blue',etc etc.And Im definitly not product inclined,viewing the act of creating as fulfilling the needs of the masses or redesigning for better functionality.

However,when does your work become faff?
Its four letters,and can be as dirty as you want to be.

Im coming across a lot of similes in my contemporaries' work these days. The overuseage of death,of so-called morbidity which means repeated usage of the words 'alone', 'depression', 'pain', 'black+(add another word)', all disastrously in the same context.
Paisleys.God save me.Please look up the usage of the symbol in fashion today.
Hindu Gods.I find this extraordinary. If one does not follow/believe in a part of what they are promoting in their work, then how is it personal?How can you call upon the bad girl sex appeal of Kali or the boy-next-door charm of Krishna to sell yourself?

For it IS selling yourself.
Indian street graphics. Its a category of its own, I love the way people celebrate it in posters and coasters and ove toasters.But there's Autooverload. Bad imitatons of Sabyasachi's bindified and goggle-eyed ramp models. Truck art to shame all trucks.Gods with blue eyes.Blinded by this blasphemy of 'culture'.
And then theres the genre of individuals who freely place copyrights on the lyrics of The Beatles ,Floyd,The Doors,I dont know,choose your poison.
The Blogsphere is scarily full of it.

For it IS selling yourself.
Faff.
In this whole struggle to be noticed, no one seems to notice that the limelight's turned a rather unpleasant shade of red. A virtual bloodbath, with schools of fish trying to be individuals.
Its a troubling question,for who wants to be caught in the trap?
I find myself hesitating to illustrate songs I like,for fear of pretentious dragonflies omshantioms and washes of colour that will drown whatever Im trying to say.
Do I dare?
Do I dare disturb the universe,after all?
The sacred order of things that makes cash flow and the world grind to a screeching halt every once in a while?
Faff.
Precisely why I am no more http://moonskulled-sea.blogspot.com,
I'm joining the squad of sheep grazing on yonder side of the hedge.
Wish me luck.

Dear Reader,your comments and criticism will be appreciated greatly.I place my words on the table and invite you to a pleasant debate, over one of my more opinionated posts.

Entre of a working woman

That title sounds so good.
Todays the 1st day of my internship at a graphic design company.
Its website design time,for a rally racing company. me-the technologically ignorant creature,who manages to work her way through designery stuffs via a trial and error process with illustrator and photoshop-is currently enjoying the benefits of a mac.just dont tell all those mac-obsessed creatures on campus(who actually keep those free ipod apple logo stickers!)
so far,im LOVING these ComputerArts UK works,theyre so inspiring I could spend hours and hours and HOURS on them.
Above are some images of peoples work..
2 and a half weeks is going to fly by.
OH,and the people seem nice...If i open my mouth(still mouse in the house corner for me,squeaking questions earnestly and tripping over more than one wire!)
I think my ideas are good,but they never feel professional enough when you look at sites like Red Bull and all...do a bit of snip and cut here and there,play with images on illustrator and maybe SOME hand work...hopes hopes hopes.
so far so good.
:DDDD
*grins with anticipation*

Chitron ka Bandhan

Coming soon.
A blog with less words and more pictures,so rejoice,ye who bore of my tireless ranting!
For over a year now,Ive left a hundred stories untold between the pages of my sketchbooks.Now,its time to let those little critters out for a breath of fresh air.
The second blogs already got one post-but alas,I dont know how to un-do the 'private' setting listed so friends can see whats up...oh well,till then!
ps-Im aware the title is hypocritcal,as Im still struggling with my Hindi skills..give me strength and creativity people..:D