Wisdom is no more relegated to the places we desginate them from. You know, sometimes, wise words would overpour from unexpected placed, like a toddler’s scroll book. Moments to cherish whirl away like scattering baloons in the blink of an eye before it metamorphoses into a memory. As Antione de Saint-Exupery put it, ” It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye. “ You might already would have deciphered that I’m trying to brew some philosophy through the title of this post while Ehanu is looking at a chapter in his mickey story book with the same title. We are all kids disguised as adults at the end of the day. Aren’t you : ) If you’re reading this, you are.
My mind these days typically revolve around the lil one and the experiences to be kindled. If he’s the earth, I’m the satellite of moon around him. Often as we grow older, the beautiful soul of a child with fierce demeanor and curiosity to explore dwindle away in the chaotic flood of normalcy, notions and routines. The round pegs in the square holes are always cast away. Curiosity is the arsenal of discovery and learning. Rose Wilder Lane once told that curiosity is the hunger of the human mind. In my vision of this initiative, I had expounded that one of the salient aspects of this corpus of writings has always been to kindle this childish curiosity we are born with. As I pen these words, that’s telling that I yearn for that inquisitiveness. I’m writing and working on art to keep the fire and flame afloat. Boundless curiosity and open minds are doors to a sea of depth, broadness and reason. One way of staying alive is to ensure that this is not being robbed off our souls. God bless.
..“Don’t let anyone rob you of your imagination, your creativity, or your curiosity. It’s your place in the world; it’s your life. Go on and do all you can with it, and make it the life you want to live.”
23 Apr 2022 – Time flies. It’s been one year. The little one who used to lie down with a smile on the craddle is now crawling and moving around. The year that passed has been one of trials and the little one really has been a hope, direction and solace for us. The clock of one year came about fast as we count the little milestones and look at awe on how he’s exploring the world around him. I fondly remember the day when I held him near the window and he was wrapped in a blanket sleeping most of the time and with ocassionaly priceless teethless smiles and glances and the lovely fossette on his cheeks when he smiles. So much development is packed into the last year as I write this. Ehan is now tinkering and exploring the details of the toys around at a much more deeper level now. He’s much more attentive towards the birds at the balcony. His little teeths are propping up. His little brain inside his fluffly hair is growing and his personality and emotions are slowly taking shape. With the will of God, as he grows up and blossom, and we celebrate each momentous milestone in awe and gratitude, this note would serve as a memory of my thoughts in this transitory phase. We love you, Ehan. Ever grateful to Almighty for all the blessings. Thank you Just Bakes by Parvathy Gosh for the beautiful artistic cake.
Right in the periphery of where I’m staying currently, there’re a lot of new buildings propping up every other month. Recollecting Peter Zumthor‘s words from his book Thinking Architecture,
“Architecture has its own realm. It has a special physical relationship with life. I do not think of it primarily as either a message or a symbol, but as an envelope and background for life which goes on in and around it, a sensitive container for the rhythm of footsteps on the floor, for the concentration of work, for the silence of sleep.”
Delving deep into the inner depths of a creative process has always been my piece of cake. I get thoroughly excited by souls who put that extra effort to have a signature in everything they do. They have that inner enticement of fulfilling and perfecting their craft. In my view which could be limited, I personally believe technology blended with liberal arts has been the most path breaking combination that has had an enduring ascendancy on most creatives & the creative process. It’s said that in art, the creative process generally include stages of inspiration leading to percolation which paves the way for the preparation which eventually culminates to the creation and eventually the period of reflection. I have always felt that such stages are applicable for any sort of creative process. It could be a painter working on a thoughtful abstract, an engineer working on a technical solution to a structural impasse, a poet making finishing touches to a sagacious prose, a dancer choreographing a graceful slide, a sculptor chiseling an authentic portrait. It could be anyone. It could be you.
I’ve been flicking through some of the excerpts from the book ” The Meaning in the Making ” by the renowned photographer Sean Tucker. In it he outlines a philosophy for a creative life. I like his laser focus on the creative process. He writes:
“When we pick up a paintbrush, or compose elements through our camera viewfinders, or press fingers into wet clay to wrestle form from a shapeless lump, we are bending things back toward Order and wrestling them from Chaos. But making things is often not enough.
We also want the things we make to be filled with meaning. We’re each trying to describe what we know about life, to create a collective sense of “safety in numbers.” When we reach the end of our traditional descriptive powers, it’s time to weave collective meaning from poetry, painting, writing, dancing, photographing, filmmaking, storytelling, singing, animating, designing, performing, carving, sculpting, and a million other ways we daily create Order out of the Chaos and share it with each other for comfort.
Lately, I have been thoroughly pondering on the aspect of irrigating the mind. Experiences and my reads have encompassed me with the discernment that the soul has to be irrigated for consistency and to be filled with life. Our faith, trust, passions, love and life as a whole needs to be irrigated. The passions are to be fuelled to keep them from dying how dwarfed it might be in the rush of our lives. We’ve to hold to that rope and do our best in a positive sense within our individual means and situations to kindle the fire of aspects and things we are passionate about. Don’t leave them away. Don’t let the chores and events crush your passions and dreams. The border of a mindis a signature that I’m endeavoring with the limited time I’ve to candle a flame I’ve for art, visual imagery and a positive vibe in general. With you, I’m trying to remember that even though data has a decisive role on much of life’s decision making, it’s truly passion that provides purpose and an organic direction of where we’re heading to. We’ve to rewind that in our mind in channeling time.
Here’s a decor slice with a pinch of photo edit powered by artificial intelligence and with some shadow art. I’ve been tinkering around with Luminar AI, which is an AI-powered photo manipulation software. Love such beautiful blends achieved by the poetic sync of technology and liberal arts.
“It is in moments of shadow that illumination happens.” ― Cheyanne Ratnam
Had an interesting trail in Khorfakkan and in the vicinity of Hajar mountains. Planning to craft a video soon on this endevaour.
..“We are now in the mountains and they are in us, kindling enthusiasm, making every nerve quiver, filling every pore and cell of us.”
― John Muir
My First Summer in the Sierra
“Did I live? The human world is like a vast musical instrument on which we play our individual parts while simultaneously listening to the compositions of others in an effort to contribute to the whole. We don't choose whether to engage, only how to; we either harmonize or create dissonance. Our words, our deeds, our very presence create and leave impressions in the minds of others just as a writer makes impressions with their words. Who you are is an unfolding narrative. You came from nothing and will return there eventually. Instead of taking ourselves so seriously all the time, we can discover the playful irony of a story that has never been told in quite this way before.― Stephen Batchelor