Lines- straight,
curved, zig-zag...Colors- light,
dark, tones...And a Canvas to convey these strokes in its truest
of emotional hues. This echoes the start to the recent dreams of mine.
Me, on a trail to the world of Art. Unaware of what it holds
for me and how I'd fit in, I continue to explore among the entwined strokes and
the mesh of colors. "I like it sans colors," I whisper to myself. And
I see a sketch appear before me. Just a few lines and more of intense strokes,
I involve myself in a rigorous session. I try to read a story out of the art
that is growing before me. Am I only a part of it or is it a part of me? Before
I knew how I'd answer that...I'm awake!
Art is a beautiful story when you identify the process
evolving its creation. But I did not know when the process began to take its
effect on me. I remember as a 5 year old, I had received my first appreciation for
my very amateur artwork. I still have it in my collection; it was a fruit
basket where all the fruits are hanging in the air. But I had clearly
identified each of the right colors for the respective fruits and also colored
it neatly without lines running out…And so the teacher awarded me a proud “A”
grade. I felt over the top.
And my artwork was displayed on the notice-board.
But my eyes went over to the other examples of the same kind of work displayed
along. They were done by students of higher classes and I knew that they were
bound to do better work. But the 5 year old in me was, then also the very ambitious
Capricorn. I stashed my drawing away with a clear aim to only exhibit my work after
improving to a level I saw in the other works of seniors. (Yes, I was being
uneasy to myself)
It was a long while after that I got back to world of colors
and pencils in the same pensive mood. Some died along while some won little
appreciation. But again I had n’t instilled in the confidence to exhibit any, even
to my kinfolk. Later at school, during the art classes I started discovering
the various mediums of work. Discovering them was fun, but yet I had n’t found
my strong foothold in any. And that bothered me because I knew then that I
wanted to make my living out of a creative
medium… “Will I have to change my perspective?,” I thought worried.
But fate and perseverance brought me to a track. A track
that conveyed art through a sense of calculated process- Design. I learnt to
develop, mould, form, generate and convey design. Each of the steps had a
specific medium. And each of the medium helped me realize a certain strength or
weakness in me. And moreover it also evolved the play of words which I was
always in love with. I set off too many conclusions to my final true calling to
the career I wanted to finally end up with…Immensely, all I wanted was to be
known for my work.
But it is in the last two years of intense and concentrated
study of design that has brought about a change in the scene. I was exposed to
the process itself more than the execution. And this brought me closer to “art”.
I became the kid again, picking up a brush and a palette of colors to paint my
heart out on a canvas. I was no longer apprehensive of any work produced by me.
Whether it were just a line, a group of lines or a more complex one; all of
them took a strong expression because I was able to identify myself with it.
Now I know what that 5 year old was doing in her first piece of artwork, she
just listened to her heart. Sensitivity has aroused in me again. I take effort
to care and look for things that interest around. I read, imbibe, write (Read
the restart to the blog itself), talk and observe…. I knew it was all in me or
rather this is what I always was. “Art Effect” was just an excuse to get back
to the life I’m identified with not for the fame but for the love of art in any
form.
........Time to chase my dreams back and answer them through the art I identify with... And I began with my roots....
