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Priya Sebastian
#priyasebastian
This was a rush job for a newspaper. I would have like to fine-tune it further, but the deadline was very tight so that I had to get up early, photograph it and email it immediately.
After I did my first picture-book about a Kashmiri girl, I got several jobs associated with Kashmir or involving women wearing headscarves. Because of this, I sometimes get a neighbourhood woman to model for me by wrapping a bedsheet over her head and shoulders. In this picture, the group of women are startled at something, I forget what, so I made my model pose for every one of them. In the figures of the two women in the foreground, one is applying henna on the hands of the other.
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priya sebastian, the hindu
I've drawn this Silk Cotton tree in Lalbagh several times over the years, but the one above is the first one that I have attempted in colour. I like the way the curve of the huge tree-trunk dwarfs the earthy little red structure below it. Also, I read somewhere that the trunk of this tree isn't actually the trunk but the roots that have grown up above the ground. It's a bit hard to fathom. I'll have to read up further.
Here below are some of the black and white studies I made sitting in front of the tree. No sketchbook is large enough for me to do justice to the gorgeous textures on the trunk.
If you didn't know this drawing was one of a giant tree-trunk, you would only see it as a textured abstract drawing.
I am back to blogging. I am done with scrolling through stamp-sized images on Instagram. I dread how much it dilutes the reality and essence of interesting images and how much it cannibalizes time. Also, every now and then, a complete stranger will come up to me and ask me, "Are you Priya Sebastian? I have been reading your blog for ages!" That is yet another reason for me to return once more to this blog and renew my ritual here. In the next few posts, I might put up some of my old work which was lost to Instagram and Facebook, in order to have a record of them just for myself.
In the old posts, I have gone on about life coming to a full-circle and closing a chapter and indeed that is what has happened. I find that the older I get, I cannot take the pressure of deadlines anymore. That anxiety which fueled most of my earlier years and gave me so much pleasure in solving a problem within a limited amount of time now only serves to paralyze and exhaust me. However, I do get much pleasure in drawing for its own sake. I still go out and sketch. Life is good when I do these things.
Please read this excellent essay about the language of lines written by Carol Blaizy D'Souza.
I am honored that it features so much of my work.
Read the essay HERE
"In the pastel drawings that serve as illustrations for the book, Sebastian uses colour, light and shadow to such great effect that one is moved beyond words at the tenderness a body can evoke. In one illustration where a young girl’s bare body is depicted—only her right breast, its mauve nipple and parts of her right palm lit, the rest of her body in shadow, a suggestion—the command the artist exerts on her craft is fully evident."
Sometime in April 2025, Richa Jha, publisher, Pickle Yolk Books , curated a massive exhibition of Indian Children's Illustrators at India International Centre in Delhi. This exhibition, titled BECOMING, was created to celebrate 130 years of Indian illustration. What was so joyful and heartening to me was that my first book Is It The Same For You? written by Neha Singh, illustrated by me, Priya Sebastian, and published by Seagull Books, got the much overdue attention it deserved, a kind of resurrection after getting published just before the pandemic in 2020 after which the world came to a standstill. Illustrations from this book were blown up into huge installation pages and placed in the centre of the exhibition resulting in a renewed interest in the book.
Here is Richa talking about this book. Her wonderful words about my illustrations truly warms my heart.
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When I was around 5 years old and in Class 1 at school, it
was Open Day, when classes were decorated nicely and people came to see what
the students had put on display. When I climbed up the steps to enter my class, several
of my classmates rushed up to me, “Priya! 3 boards full of your drawings have
been displayed in class!” And indeed, when I walked towards my classroom, right at the
entrance, I saw 3 boards full of my drawings pinned up on them. The teacher had
taken the drawings from my drawing books and pinned them
up for all to see.
I’ve tried to remember how I felt back then. What I do
recall was that I was rather confused at the excitement of my classmates around me. I remember being somewhat surprised that their drawings had been grouped together on a couple of other boards, while my drawings had 3 boards all to themselves. I had no idea why. Drawing was
simply something that I did spontaneously and naturally, like eating or sleeping.
Now, so many years later, there seems to be a repetition of what happened long ago when my publisher
decided to blow-up my work giant-size for the exhibition of illustrators and eulogized my work with so much enthusiasm. I am happy.