Sculptures

Found by the wayside.

Some interesting links -
Marie-Laure de Villepin's Seed sculptures

Abhir Patwardhan's beaten metal seed pods

Homage to the Seed

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HAPPINESS

 ~ by Paisley Rekdal

I have been taught never to brag but now

I cannot help it: I keep

a beautiful garden, all abundance,

indiscriminate, pulling itself

from the stubborn earth. Does it offend you

to watch me working in it,

touching my hands to the greening tips or

tearing the yellow stalks back, so wild

the living and the dead both

snap off in my hands?

The neighbor with his stuttering

fingers, the neighbor with his broken

love: each comes up my drive

to receive his pitying,

accustomed consolations, watches me

work in silence a while, rises in anger,

walks back. Does it offend them to watch me

not mourning with them but working

fitfully, fruitlessly, working

the way the bees work, which is to say

by instinct alone, which looks

like pleasure? I can stand for hours among

the sweet narcissus, silent as a point of bone.

I can wait longer than sadness. I can wait longer

than your grief. 
It is such a small thing to be proud of this garden...

- for complete poem click here >

                         

Today's Serving

Fairing avec Charcoal

So I learned it is a law of nature in my life that everytime my head blows up to twice its size there is always an occurrence to bring it back to normal size once more.

In French class I learnt that the French ‘faire’ everything. Faire = do. So the French, they ‘faire la cuisine’, they ‘faire du velo’,  they faire un drame, they ‘faire de la natation’ in their ‘piscines’, they ‘faire’ every blessed thing. One day we were asked by our teacher what we ‘faire’ at work so that the rest of us could guess each other’s professions. In a class full of software engineers everyone said they faired with their blessed computers so there wasn’t any guessing to do; except in my case, having chosen this dratted profession as my life’s calling, I always stick out like a cabbage in a hardware store. I rather smugly said that I faire avec charcoal. Whereupon the French teacher screeched 

“You work with charcoal? You are a chef!!!!”

M****!

Non madame, je suis illustrateuse…

Routine

..........is a great calmer for bewildered pets and their over anxious servers.

Namma Chanda Lettering - Benglur Public Font Library

The other day Mr. G posted about The Open Font Library on Facebook and mentioned the quality of their typefaces. I was really mystified I tell you. Why go and look at some foreign lettering in some ice cold country somewhere when we have our Namma Lettering here. No need for computer gomputer and all. Just take a walk along any street in Bengaluru and Aiyoh illi nodu! Abbah alli nodu! Yeshtu Chanda! Yentha Kaambinashun! So much different different lettering is there. Here are just a few examples -

To read more about a Brahmin Breakfast at this place please read here >>

See? We have variety as well as quantity. And no strange names like Eadui Medium and Nova Undercut and all. We just call our fonts by what they say: Prashanth Hotel Non Veg font, Brahmin's Coffee Bar font, Pooja jewels font...you get the idea no? So much easier to remember than that Ewdi Undercut thing.
Look to your own city and namma culture is vot I say!

Slideshow here >>

Do visit this excellent site which collects our unique typography - Hand Painted type
Thank you for the link Shreyas! 

Some More Houses

More houses here >>
and lots more over here >>

A Favorite Subject

Red Rice and Fish

I love drawing fish. This one, red rice and fish, is my favourite meal.

Just for the info of some of the readers: This picture took about 8 hours to do. 6 hours non-stop last night starting at 10.30 pm and two hours this morning. That is why I work at night, no need to stop to eat lunch, wash dishes, answer the doorbell etc.
But I ate other things before drawing this picture: One package of salted peanuts, Diet Coke,  premium chocolate...all ingredients absolutely necessary to get charcoal to do my bidding.
Now I must go eat some Ritchie's biriyani to replenish my energy...and then get some sleep.

*

It seems as though Cathal and I spent that time in the shadow world, as though we were quietly lowered into the dark, everything familiar missing, and nothing we did or said could change this. Because no one harmed us or made us afraid, it did not strike us that we were in a world where no one loved us, or that such a thing might be of any significance. We did not complain. We were emptied of everything, and in the vacuum came something like silence – almost no sound at all, just some sad echoes and dim feelings.

~ Colm Tóibín
One Minus One

Magic

There is a Red Flower in my Garden...

MOTHER’S TEETH

Apparently these false teeth hampered the free flow of black bile regurgitating out of her, so when I sat pinned down on order in front of mother listening aghast once again to yet another story embellished with her twisted lies, mother would put her fingers inside her mouth, grimace and katak, she would remove a set of false teeth and casually chuck it beside the sleeping cat on the side table. The cat’s fur would jam itself to wet teeth resulting in hairy teeth. Appalled, my hand would instinctively search for car keys to scoot out of the house where upon my fingers would touch something wet. Looking down I would see four teeth snarling up at me beside an ash tray. Screaming! Commotion! Indignation! I would flee out of her house with my own curly hair standing on end. Then one day on a visit, I picked a chakkli from a plate on the table to find yet another set of teeth menacingly lying in wait for me. I stopped visiting mother.

~ Extract from a story called Mother's Teeth