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Between Sketch, Colours, Paint and Grief.
Seven years ago, during an intensive expressive writing session, my mentor and coach asked me to go back further in time, and as I drifted back, I came upon something that stopped me for quite some time. The Past It was a memory of my teenage years, and in the vision I saw my first…
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Grief & Old Crockery
I have a corner wooden shelf in our house that stores cutlery for ages. It’s modestly built, and for some weird reason, it is coloured rusted orange on the outside with wooden varnish inside. My mother is very emotional about it, as it holds the remnant pieces of the dinner set her mother gave her…
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The Story of My House.
This house holds within itself stories of 24 people who used to live here. Some of them passed away peacefully in different continents, some in the same premises breathed their last, and the ones alive, which makes the majority of the next generation, left it, to pursue and explore their destinies elsewhere. I tried to…