My visual diary

 A rainy day stimulating memories of paper boats, a recipe gone horrible wrong, an uncanny dream, a joint conspiracy by my pillow and uncompliant hair to stir a bad hair day. These are some of the things that manage to slip into that little corner in my head space. A gentle push by the rabid mind with a little help from the hand and....there they perch themselves on my sketchbook. Here is a peek into my visual diary. These were done in 2011 when I use to live in Bangalore. Going through my visual diary is a trip down the memory lane....

And this is where it starts

A trip to Mangalore with Renu and Neetha. Stayed at Neetha's and her parents were adorable hosts. Every element in this sketch has some memory associated to it which we all three shared

after a nap on a saturday afternoon

On a rainy day in Bangalore when I had pizza and thought about paper boats made of newspaper which me and my cousin use to float

the terrace ...few months back when I use to live in Bangalore

my balcony

I had a shopaholic phase too

My virtual fantasia

Invigoratingly spontaneous and delectably self-indulgent... I always wanted to kick-start something on these lines. Starting a blog was my second option, the first being grabbing a box of mint chocolates. I had this sentiment smoldering somewhere in me a few months back while sipping chai on my desk in the faculty room and contemplating, as I inserted that obscure formula on excel sheets, how  grades are as awry a reflection of a student as my pay checks are of me. A few days later, peeking into my feedback sheets(where the students evaluate me on a scale where at one end is the devil and on the other a lesser devil) I remembered reading somewhere a Picasso quote, “I am my sketchbook.” I wondered  what am I. I had hoped not these feedback sheets.

Now that after a considerable period of unemployment in a new city and my aim of waking up and reaching on time to catch a 356a  for a long slow bumper to bumper ride to a class of dopey eyed teenagers being no longer there (at least till I take the bait of another 9 to 6'er), this self- considerative cerebration to do something  has started to brew and steam from within the confines of an empty mind, which they say is a dangerous thing.  So here I am today, deciding to give it an outlet that I can channelize and orchestrate

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As I embark upon this synchronous journey of moving ahead and deeper, I also wait to see what springs from here. It may or may not be all rainbows and cup cakes that tug at your heart strings or tickle your ribs, but what I can see clearly is my arthritic fingers reaching for the keyboard a few decades from now for that little trip down the memory lane.For now I am in love with the idea of owning this space where people can tell me they don’t like the fact I draw my lines crooked but cannot make me straighten them up.