Showing posts with label women. Show all posts
Showing posts with label women. Show all posts
Village
പ്രപഞ്ചമേ, നീ പല ദുഃഖജാലം
നിറഞ്ഞതാണെങ്കിലുമിത്രമാത്രം ചേതോഹരക്കാഴ്ചകള് നിങ്കലുള്ള കാലത്തു നിന് പേരിലെവന് വെറുക്കും? -- വള്ളത്തോള്  |
| Indian Village |
Women
“every portrait that is painted with feeling is a portrait of the artist, not of the sitter. The sitter is merely the accident, the occasion. It is not he who is revealed by the painter; it is rather the painter who, on the coloured canvas, reveals himself.”
Oscar Wilde
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| portrait |
“When you lose reasoning you forget humanity,When you forget laughter you lose Divinity. Munindra Misra”
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| Devi |
And now I see with eye serene, The very pulse of the machine; A being breathing thoughtful breath, A traveller between life and death: The reason firm, the temperate will, Endurance, foresight, strength, and skill; A perfect Woman, nobly plann'd To warn, to comfort, and command; And yet a Spirit still, and brightWith something of an angel light.-- William Wordsworth
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| Krishna |
Your body is my prison, Krishna,
I cannot see beyond it.
Your darkness blinds me,
Your love words shut out the wise world's din.
Kamala Das - Only The Soul Knows How To Sing
Flower seller
"At first thy little being came:If nothing once, you nothing lose, For when you die you are the same;The space between, is but an hour, The frail duration of a flower" -- Philip Freneau
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| Flower seller |
"Women with flower" -- Naomi Long Madgett
I wouldn't coax the plant if I were you. Such watchful nurturing may do it harm. Let the soil rest from so much digging And wait until it's dry before you water it. The leaf's inclined to find its own direction; Give it a chance to seek the sunlight for itself.Much growth is stunted by too careful prodding,Too eager tenderness. The things we love we have to learn to leave alone.
Works of my School days
“Every child is an artist. The problem is how to remain an artist once he grows up.” -- Pablo Picasso
In my Kindergarten, I happend to win a 4th prize for a painting competition. It inspired my mother to buy paint and other articles for me. She asked the drawing teacher of the school where she was working, to give me some guidance. Luckily, then onwards, I won prizes in various painting competitions conducted in Kerala.
Since I am not a patient perfectionist, I was more comfortable with watercolour. You decide what to draw and just do it. No scope for retouch and no need for spending too much time on one picture. Just enjoy the soothing serenity of the painting... I love this pleasure.
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| Here comes Mom |
"Here comes Mom" (1997) -- I was 14 years old. An attempt to try out Monochrome imagery in watercolour.
"If art is to nourish the roots of our culture, society must set the artist free to follow his vision wherever it takes him" -- John F kennedy  |
| Ariyidikkunna Sthree |
"Ariyidikkunna sthree"- women pounding rice (2001) : A common sight of the afternoons in the village houses of Kerala during my childhood - women pounding rice in to flour for the next day's breakfast; mostly to make puttu, idiyappam, pathiri etc. The equipment is called 'Ural and ulakka' a bigger version of mortar and pezzle made of wood and stone.
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| Village well |
"Village well" (1997) - women carrying water from the communal well : a forgotten system of drinking water facility in Kerala villages, public wells built and maintained by the local government. These water wells are dug manually with shovels. Water is drawn using a small bucket tied to a long coconut coir cord, pulled of by a pulley fixed to a log on the top of the well. Women used to share gossips and stories with her friends while filling their water pots. It was her 'social media' of the time.
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| Water carrier
"Water carrier"(2001) - Girl carrying water from the village well
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| Fisher woman |
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| Fisher woman |
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| It's planting time |
"It's planting time" (1999) - Wayanad is the land of paddy fields. I have been seeing different stages of paddy cultivation which inspired my works during my childhood.
"The creative act lasts but a brief moment, a lightning instant of give-and-take, just long enough for you to level the camera and to trap the fleeting prey in your little box." - Henri Cartier-Bresso
Song of the Village
VILLAGE SONG by Sarojini Naidu
Full are my pitchers and far to carry,
Lone is the way and long,
Why, O why was I tempted to tarry
Lured by the boatmen’s song?
Swiftly the shadows of night are falling,
Hear, O hear, is the white crane calling,
Is it the wild owl’s cry?
There are no tender moonbeams to light me,
If in the darkness a serpent should bite me,
Or if an evil spirit should smite me,
Ram Re Ram! I shall die.
My brother will murmur, ‘Why doth she linger?’
My mother will wait and weep,
Saying, ‘O safe may the great gods bring her,
The Jamuna’s waters are deep…’
The Jamuna’s waters rush by so quickly,
The shadows of evening gather so thickly,
Like black birds in the sky…
O! if the storm breaks, what will betide me?
Safe from the lightning where shall I hide me?
Unless Thou succor my footsteps and guide me,
Ram Re Ram! I shall die.
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