Summer Blues

 The beginnings of summer, Benglurians sluggish due to the heat. We become lethargic, we vegetate, we scuttle towards fans and air-conditioners. I avoid work at my desk by sitting at M’s desk in his studio. He avoids work by sitting in front of his comp, Facebook . I flip through a large book of Picasso’s work. Outside, the sun beats down on the terrace forming blocks of colour against the branches of a mango tree. I feel a surge of guilt. I am doing nothing! I grab an old invitation card and draw the scene in front of me with some graphite lying around. Then I colour it up with M’s expensive Senelier oil pastel. He sprays half a can of imported fixative over it for me.  I feel righteous.

 This is that temple at Ramanagaram. It was afternoon when this was done. P, S and I were sitting in front of the temple in the shade of trees drawing this. We spoke about how happy we felt to get away from the city and sit in the middle of nowhere to draw. We decided that we needed to do one more thing to complete our happiness. We phoned A, who was unable to come with us that day. P spent 10 entire minutes eulogizing our wonderful time to A. Our happiness was complete.

Since we didn’t want to roast in the heat of a village during the month of March, we sketched within the city last week. Some place with a fountain and moth eaten ducks. Too many conversations with P and S about abstract theories.  Lucky for me, S’s wife happened to accompany him. She had been given strict instructions not to disturb us, but she waited  while I finished drawing this ugly mall opposite. I quickly drew, ditched the guys and scooted off with her to shop for girlie things. Wonderful time. “Don’t listen to boys and their bulls*** ” said S’s wife, “they are just showing off”.

This, a lovely fig tree growing inside ITC (Indian Tobacco Company). Thanks to C, whose husband and sister work there, I got a guided tour inside the beautiful green environmentally friendly campus. 

The drawing above and below from my giant Moleskine sketchbook. Playing with organic forms. What is a sketchbook for if it isn't for experimentation?

And this last one above, blue sky against the beautiful red of the State Central Library. 

In the end, nothing matters, and no one.