Medha Online Today

Memory and Memories

2011-05-14T12:50:00.001-07:00

In the soap opera of our lives, memories are episodes. The characters who starred in them are your family and friends--parents, spouse, children, siblings, also neighbors, coworkers, community members.. a wide range of people-from soulmates to mere aquaintances... The ultimate joy is to re-run those memories with them, one scene at a time.. To remember and to remind, to laugh and to lament, to wonder where the other people are now..

Memory is the ultimate gift.. Treasure it if you still have it. Write down your moments to cherish. Returning to a journal entry after a passage of time is an unexpected experience. You get a chance to revisit places, people and moments with a new perspective.

Life and aging takes its toll. Less for some, more for others..I cannot imagine how it feels to someone who cannot remember..especially when they have lived a full life-- and have to stand at the sidelines because they cannot take part. They cannot take part because they cannot remember. They cannot understand references, they feel lost, left-out and utterly helpless.

A slow fade-out of names, faces, events, and finally relationships is a cruel loss. I hope I am able to understand.

2010-07-07T19:53:00.000-07:00

Gloating over the beauty of nature hundreds of miles away, one forgets what one has in one's own backyard.

This is a chance picture of Cherokee Lake from Panther Creek State Park, just round the corner from our house. When I lived near the ocean in my childhood, I rarely visited the beach. It was always too crowded, too dirty, too polluted, or too hot. When in my adult years I lived in a city on the coast, visits to the beach were more frequent, but now I realize: not often enough.

When you are landlocked, and the nearest beach is at least seven hours away, you long for that proximity to those vast miles of endless water..daunting, challenging, yet strangely calming.

Lakes are fine too.. even man-made ones. Who cares?

They give the same calm, the same silence, and the same awe that the mind needs to feel grateful.

"Everybody should have his personal sounds to listen for - sounds that will make him exhilarated and alive or quiet and calm” - Andre Kostelanetz

2010-07-05T18:57:00.002-07:00

Installation created by Medha Karandikar

as part of Tennessee Journey Stories : An Exhibit

by James-Ben Studio & Art Gallery

at the Niswonger Performing Arts Center in Greeneville, TN

Name: A child and his art: growing up in East Tennessee

" When we uprooted this wide-eyed eight-year old from his familiar Indian home, school, country and friends, and brought him to Morristown, he left behind his toys, gave away his beloved Lego pieces, and waited for his favorite picture encyclopedieas to be shipped. All he brought with him was this incredible talent to draw.

We had seen him draw a detailed harbor scene scene from a tiny dinghy.. from memory. Soon, he was drawing cityscapes from imagination: bridges, skyscrapers, stadiums, roads, neighborhoods..

We specially drove him through downtowns of larger cities.. but it was all there in his mind's eye..he didn't need references.

Band happened.. and the introduction to music. Before long he was writing and playing pieces to us.

Ceramics opened a third dimension. A surprise element with glazes and colors.

This is a peek into his world, and the chronicle of the kid as he grew into an adult."

2010-06-29T19:57:00.000-07:00

Have you ever seen a blue see-saw with clouds painted on it? Chances are, you have, and that it was the same one that I did, but you did not check it out. I did, on a whim, on a cold, dull day in the beginning of winter.

The playground was empty, so no fear of being seen- a forty-something woman with no visible kids to justify her presence in a playground at noon.

There was the see-saw, an impossible blue, with wispy clouds painted on it. Pulling my jacket around me, I went toward it, as if drawn. Gingerly, I lowered myself at one end, the lower end. But I had no one to lower the other side- (wrong choice when you are alone).

All of a sudden, it was as if a giant hand had pushed the other end down, jettisoning me with a deadly force and speed upwards, fast and accurate till I landed with a soft thud in a never ending cloudscape of white cotton balls on blue.

It was not cold here, and there was no one in sight. I got up and took a faltering step forward. It was like walking on a trampoline. I was afraid I would fall through that net. I stood still. The cloud began to give way. Instinctively, I took another step, and then another. I realized that I had to walk on, in order to stay safe. And walk I did – through chambers of clouds- clouds of haze and fog, of blinding light and dark gloom, clouds like flurry streaks, and clouds like plowed fields of white.

And then I was tired. It was a chamber of soft clouds, at times white, at times black. All I could feel was softness. I wished to stay, but I could walk no further, and to stay, you had to walk. If you stood, you could fall through. But my legs would not move, my feet were swollen, my ankles leaden, my soles chafing.

The cloud ground was giving way, and I could feel the speed of my fall. As I went down, I shut my eyes tight, waiting for the crash. It didn’t happen.

I was stopped mid-air. I opened my eyes. I saw a pink, pearly light around me, bathing me in a glow of supreme beauty. There was a fragrance in the air, a scent I couldn’t place. And strains of music flowed like skeins of silk.

I was not falling anymore. A pair of arms held me, enveloping me, holding me in a bear-hug.

Above me was a huge ink blue sign with a giant number nine in gold.

Now I knew where I was. On Cloud Nine, duh.

2010-06-28T20:17:00.000-07:00

A lovely day at beautiful Lake Tahoe...

On and around my birthday, I have realized that:

Health is indeed wealth. And sometimes it is NOT in your hands. But a lot of it still is, so take care of yourselves.
That includes mental health too. That is equally precious, and precarious. So take care of your minds.
Do only the things that build and sustain you, and diss the others. I now feel the passage of time the most, as if I have already lived more than half of my life (true.. for who lives to be a hundred?) so it is time to take stock. .Some things and some people you cannot change, but you can change the way you look at and deal with them.
Celebrate everything you have been blessed with: Family, friends, this day, this place, this life.

Poetry in a Signature

2009-02-21T16:48:00.000-08:00

I saw this today in the new Time magazine and realized that our President is also an artist. The lyrical B, the creative use of the line dissecting the O to start the b in Obama.. I am no handwriting expert, but I can recognize a singing line when I see one. My admiration for the man was kicked up another notch. I wonder when he perfected it, while he was a kid, a preteen, growing up in Indonesia, or in Hawaii, when? How many transformations did it go through? Lucky to be a man, and not have to change your signature along with your last name at a rite of passage.

At some time while growing up you realize that your signature is important. You see your dad signing checks, your leave-of-absence notes, your report cards.

You watch him as his pen hovers over paper, his hand trembles before the nib touches it, even though he is in his thirties, and will continue to tremble as he grows older and you grow wiser. You show your brother how you can duplicate your father's signature, flourish for flourish, underline for underline, dot for dot. Not that you ever use this skill, it's just that you have it, and you know it.

You try to develop your own signature, becaue one day you will have to use it, and it had better be good, since it is going to be on everything 'REALLY IMPORTANT'.

So you toil over it: shall I write my full name and my full last name, or my full name and the initial of my last name, or my first initial and my last name, or just my initials, or maybe my nickname? that would be neat, and pretty intriguing

Legend has it that S.H.F.J. Maneckshaw signed his name as Field Marshal, just that. He was the only Field Marshal of the Indian Army at that time, that's why.

Artist M. F. Husain signs his name in different scripts, and I loved that idea. I could read the Gujrati, the Bangla and of course the Devnagari.

Finally you settle for full first name and last name. You practise and perfect it, and distill it down to one you love: the one that starts and ends in one continuous line. The underline and two dots are for flourish and effect: like you father's signature.

You use that for a few years, on "really important" documents including opening your first bank account and signing your first check.

Like the artist you admire, you develop one more for your paintings: one that looks like sticks stacked, mimicking an oriental script.

Before long you are married and have to change it all over again, only this time your last name is really long, so you shorten your signature to two initials and last name. End of story.

The Face at the Window: A Short Story

2009-02-18T05:55:00.000-08:00

Last week we watched a Diwali magazine on DVD, the first of its kind...One of the features was a documentary on Anandvan, and Baba Amte, its founder. There are no words to describe his dedication and drive to bring meaning and worth to leprosy patients and handicapped and blind people. People who had not just lost their limbs, their faces and eyes, but their will to live.

For years, my childhood friend has bought all her greeting cards from Anandvan. I have posted this link here, for everyone to view the cards, and especially to view the work done by Baba Amte. I admit I haven't yet purchased the cards, but I am doing it.
I have memories of recoil and horror at seeing bodies and faces robbed of the familiar angles and ends. Baba Amte lifted the curtain of fear of this disease, by educating the public about it being bacterial and treatable.
This is a story I wrote years ago : it may seem familiar to some.

The Face at the Window

The bus is crawling laboriously along the road, heaving to speed, slowing down, jerking at turns, with its bursting load of people. It is Sunday, late afternoon, and there are people everywhere. On the roads, everyone seems to be going somewhere, anywhere. Inside, people squash into the aisles, between seats, women “ adjust” three seats for two, with children in laps, between knees, plastered to windows, wound around the vertical bars running from floor to ceiling. Men, their bodies flattened against one another, keep their gazes steadfastly out of the bus.

Outside, the sun is harsh and blinding, its light glaring angrily on tar roads, tin roofs, gaudy clothes. After the mild months, the heat has come to stay. It permeates everywhere, along the aisle, between bodies, through clothes, entering our very pores.

I, who am making the trip to finish an important errand, wonder why people leave the coolness of their homes at all.

A little boy is crying for a window. His harassed mother pushes him between the aisle bar and a seat. He gets stuck between a pair of knees, and then is obligingly pushed further across another pair of knees to the window; on reaching which he immediately is lost in the world of the outside.

Luckily, I am seated near a window, through which trickles in a thin current of air, and I don’t envy the passengers in the aisle seats, whose shoulders support the weight of those standing leaning against them.

A mass of humanity waits ahead at the bus stop, and the bus, leaning heavily on one side, lumbers to the edge of the road and stops. With it stops the breeze.

People attack it at both doors. Some, who go to one, not finding room enough, run to the other. Men, women, children, fall over one another to get an inch, a foothold. There is a cackling and frenzy not quite human. Concerned relative’s push them safely inside, and then come to the windows, embarking upon a long series of farewells and goodwill messages for those back home.

Someone taps urgently on the tinwork below my window. Instinctively, I look outside to see a good-looking, well-dressed young man smiling at me. His hair is well combed, his nose sharp, his moustache trimmed. His shirt is clean. But I cannot recall ever meeting him.

Albeit with a frown of mistrust, I try to place him. Quickly he raises his hands for me to see. I recoil. The remains of his fingers stare horridly at me, gaping with gray-green stubs, like inward-pointing arrows, the beginning of a journey of decay. Bodies with flattened noses and stumpy limbs dance before my eyes.

Indian Express, Madras, Wednesday, August 14, 1985

Original sketch for The Outsider

2009-02-16T12:46:00.000-08:00

"Outsider" in Stir-Fry Cafe

2009-02-16T04:45:00.000-08:00

The manager wanted me to take charge of my paintings that they brought down after the new ones went up since there wasn't a safe spot to store them. Stir-Fry cafe is an hour plus drive from home and I wanted to be there during off business hours so that the customers wouldn't be disturbed, but time was of essence, and so here I am, on Valentine's Day evening, the busiest night for the restaurant, waiting to pick up my paintings, among everyone else waiting for a table.

The wait-staff and maitre d' were extremely cooperative and took the pictures that I wanted, since I couldn't have gone inside without being obtrusive (and to add it all I was in sari and all!)

So here it is: The Outsider, looking on an outdoor cafe, while being housed in an indoor one! Wait, Stir-Fry cafe does have an outdoor section, except it's hard to think of it now when it is so cold.

Three stages of a painting and giving it a title: The Outsider

2009-02-07T12:24:00.000-08:00

The IBM doublespread ad in the Wall Street Journal had me sufficiently fascinated to want to do something.. First of all I wanted to be in that spot, Park Guell Barcelona, with a laptop, like that dude. I got my laptop, and I have now acted upon the inspiration from that picture.

Here you can see the first stage of my painting, ,when I drew just the balcony and the girl. Then I drew a pelican diagonally across from the girl, but somehow the proportions were wrong.

So I got rid of the pelican and added a dreamy seascape in the background.Again, the realistic notes of the background, and the fantasy elements of the foreground didn't match. The sea and mountains had to be changed, the background had seemed cut off from the rest of the picture, so I connected them all with the patterned river and the Arc de Triomphe-like structures across the hills.

Carried it squished in my van (the piece is 57" x 57") and hung it at Stir-Fry in Turkey Creek.

Imagine my delight to note that the distance between the crown molding and the top of the booths is exactly that much.

Will post pictures of how it looks in the restaurant soon.

Should have taken one instantly after it went up. Anyway.

Changing Light Bulbs

2009-02-03T17:27:00.001-08:00

When we were in India, most of the bulbs were energy saving, cool white, fluorescent tubes. They rarely even had covers, and we all felt bright, energetic and enthusiastic even when evening came and night fell soon after. For the few months that we lived in Veraval, I felt dull and depressed in the evenings for no reason at all, apparently, till I realized that the kitchen and living room didn't have any "tubelights" but "yellow" bulbs. When we were kids, my brother and I had hated those things, and when we would visit homes of people who burned them instead of tubelights, we got headaches and eye pain.
After moving to the US I observed that yellow bulbs were in fact the norm, and not the exception, like the sole one I had at home inside a Pondicherry paper shade. In fact here in the US, tubelights were supposed to be industrial lighting, and in homes I saw them very rarely, and only in kitchens. Needless to say, I have been dull and depressed for eleven years. ELEVEN years! Till the new president came along and made tubelights seem cool. By the way, he also carries a Hanuman amulet, which probably endeared him a lot to many fellow Indians or fellows of Indian origin, and has also picked out a guy named Rahm whose name can be pronounced as Ram.
Back to the tubelights: After several trials with various fluorescent bulbs, some of which "burned the corneas" of our son, and some of which only lit up the space directly below them, we found the ones which may work. They come in packs of two, so dear hubby changed only two out of three on the island fixture till I was completely sure...
I am now, and our kitchen glows in the dark, literally.
I can now paint till midnight, and not have to guess at the colors.

What's new now: Making books and journals!

2009-01-23T18:57:00.001-08:00

These are the books and journals I have been making, or trying my hand at, these last few days.

This one I had seen at an exhibition, and was intrigued by the way it folded into a small square. (See second picture).
I wanted to buy the book to figure out how it was folded, but my problem-solving husband assured me that he'd "got it" and in fact he had. So now I have got it too.

This one I learned online. It's a book you make with a post-it pad. It looks very cute, and you don't feel like using those post-it's.

This one was before I "got"the first one, and it turned out to look intriguing itself! In fact I now like it more than the other one, so I have named it Diamond Surprise! It can be hung up like an ornament.

You can use anything you find around the house to make your book cover. Then add a few blank pages and you have a unique book. I made this one using found objects. A pair of handles from a paper bag, the backing from a picture frame, a trinket, gold wire, and left over paper from the class.

This one I made at a bookmaking class I took. I wonder if I will be able to recreate that binding, but if I stare at it long enough, it will surely come back to me. Otherwise, there is always the problem-solver!

Another one from the class, I put a twist on the binding by adding some glass beads.

More to follow, as I keep trying!

2 new paintings in progress and 1 to stay halfway

2009-01-13T16:57:00.000-08:00

This is a long canvas I am working on at home. 24" tall x 72" wide. It started rather dull (see below), but the blue and the rickety rope-bridge have tied it together somewhat.

Once I add my little white people it will begin to speak, tell a story....

Then there is this one, a huge canvas we built at the studio. I am glad the way this one is turning out, though at this point I have no clue where it is going. But I have faith in the fact that it will all come together in an interesting way. I have combined Park Guel and the courtyard cafe of my mind's eye....
And then there is this pelican.. Don't know what to do with him! So he will stay that way, between the daytime scene of a seaside town, and the night sky of an island country.

Keeping my promise, one day later.

2009-01-10T21:29:00.001-08:00

I came across an interesting book about Hex designs, the geometrical and freehand designs found on barns in Pennsylvania. The designs were fascinatingly similar to many motifs found in India. The geometrical designs were almost identical to Rangoli designs, and the birds and flowers were very similar to traditional Indian embroidery motifs.

Conclusion: It's a global village, has always been.
Images: Wooden painted sign from my workshop, Indian Kutchi embroidery taken from www.indianetzone.com

Happy New Year!

2009-01-02T20:21:00.000-08:00

Another year has rolled out before us. It's now or never. I will update my blog once a week. This year promises to be even better, busier and more blissful.

A little about what's been going on with my art:

Last year got me more showings and exposure than ever before. Starting with the Morristown Library show, there was the one month solo at The Spot in Newport and All Celebrity Travels in Morristown, followed by Three Flights Up, Dentalworks, Bliss Home & Art, Stir Fry Cafe and Belleza (all in Knoxville). The HIGHLIGHT was getting an entire wall at JamesBen Studio and Art Center in Greeneville (JamesBen has been representing my art for the last four years and has a large part in my progress!)

The trip to California resulted in an entry into a juried show at Barton Gallery. Two pieces showed for a month at Helen Jones Gallery, two pieces are in a holiday group show, and I have a booking for a solo show in May 2010 (all in Sacramento). My studio (more in the next post about that one) and Classes are going steady, and now I am venturing in Indian cooking demonstrations , the first one was at JamesBen's cooking stadium(more later).

Folks: Please help me keep up with this blog. I need your suggestions. I don't want this to be about me and my world. It's about us all. I will share my thoughts, and urge you to share yours with me.

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The double yellow line means DO NOT CROSS. It's a metaphor I am using for some of my paintings now. These pictures are of the pieces before they got all the little people put in. I forgot to take pictures of the finished ones, which now hang at Stir Fry Cafe in Turkey Creek.

I meant to show that there is a better, more colorful, more serene world beyond the barrier.

All it takes is the will to cross it. And when it is a double yellow line, it may even be a risk, and may result in a price to be paid.

Lake Tahoe sunset

2008-09-21T13:14:00.001-07:00

Hello all,
Just back from a fabulous week in California.
The weather was perfect, the people (of course) perfect, everything was just that: PERFECT
Images are just jostling with each other to occupy my mind: too many to dwell on..
This one is Lake Tahoe at sunset, different colors of the water at different times and different spots, from grey to emerald, and shades of cobalt in between.
I will post more soon.. I promise

Three Flights Up!

2008-03-19T14:49:00.000-07:00

This is me obviously happy to be at Three Flights Up gallery in Knoxville.

The space is open, bright and elegant. The partners display the work to the best advantage to ALL artists. It was a nice evening of impromptu music, interested viewers and no rain or snow!!

2007-09-17T19:28:00.001-07:00

What is creativity? I hear people say that someone is "SO" creative, when all they mean is that the person can draw and paint.
To me creativity is how you live your life. Whether you treat it as ART or as CRAFT.
If your life is CRAFT, you will strive to do the right thing at all times to all people in all ways. You will pull yourself in all different directions to be the perfect picture, to say the right words, and to live up to the image people have created for you.
You may earn kudos for it, but you know that it is not the real you, but a cardboard cutout.

But if you live your life as ART, you will live each moment in thought, thoughtfulness and joy.
Never mind that at times you may forget to do what was expected of you, or chose not to do it because your mind and your heart told you that it was not important, and you decided to listen to your inner voice. You will feel one with yourself and nothing else will matter.

This does not mean rudeness, neglect or cruelty, but just a slow, sure carving out of your own path, the one "less traveled".

Trust me, once you start bringing Art into your life, you will experience an uplifting.

2007-09-05T19:04:00.000-07:00

From now on I will post pictures of places I would love to find myself in.

2007-08-28T14:49:00.000-07:00

I found this image on the Web, and if someone owns the copyright to it, I hereby ask permission to use it here.
There is a doublespread in OPRAH magazine which is called Breathing Spaces, and this image fits that title perfetly.
A quiet space and fragrant white flowers.

It takes three weeks to get rid of a habit, good or bad.

2007-08-15T20:58:00.000-07:00

These were the lovely thumbnails to which the folks at Three Flights Up cropped my paintings, making them intriguing and inviting to see.
http://www.threeflightsup.com
I heard a very useful comment today:
IT BECOMES EASIER WHEN YOU TAKE THE EMOTION OUT OF IT.
How true, and really, how useful.
NO EMOTION=NO TIME WASTED.
Become more productive, more efficient, more professional.
Easier said than done.
But at least it has been said, first step taken.

Medha Online Today

2007-08-08T13:26:00.000-07:00

Medha Online Today

2007-08-06T20:20:00.000-07:00

A lot of things got done today. Following my own advice, I put one foot in front of the other, and walked. Not literally, actually, I swam, 40 laps to be precise.
It took a lot from me to get to the pool: I had to buy the goggles on the way; it was too hot; i had too much work to do; we had stayed up late last night watching a movie, we have 40 people coming over for dinner this saturday.. one excuse after the other.
finally i said to heck with it, just do it, as ROWHANN says.
and it got done. not just the swimming but all the other errands and chores.

2007-08-04T12:15:00.000-07:00

Am now Featured Artist for the month of August at Abode.

The folks at Abode were friendly, and I made it a point to self publicize. Lots of new ideans floating in my mind now. Look at the lizard.

Now you see it, now you don't - this was the lizard I taught at Junior Art Camp:
I realize now that I really enjoy drawing creatures. After the fish and bird series, it's now time to do a "lizard" and "dragonfly" series.

Red Dot

2007-06-02T21:55:00.000-07:00

This was at Three Flights Up gallery on First Friday (June)
I was very pleased with the interest shown, and also with that little red dot on the left!

A! Magazine for the Arts

2007-05-30T19:51:00.000-07:00

A! Magazine for the Arts

2007-05-08T20:25:00.000-07:00

I've had my share of success at a plant or two in the past! This was one of my favorites...

Anyway, to continue on the Person of the Year : You.

You live in the midst of others, in relevance to several, especially those whom you relate to, whether in spirit or literally.

Those whom you relate to in spirit, you keep returning, time and again, by design or happenchance. Those with whom you are related, you are bound by stronger strings, like it or not. Sometimes those strings are comfortable and assuring, and sometimes a burdensome maze.

You try to live the best you can, amid this intriguing tangle of relationships. After a point you find yourself: your voice, your vocation, your passion. And that's when it strikes you loud and clear: The Person of the Year, this Year and every Year, is You-and you walk alone.

You walk alone and strike your own path, still managing that tangle and that maze, not really bothering to unravel or sort it, but slinging it on your back, focusing instead on the clear light breaking at the horizon.

2007-05-08T20:07:00.000-07:00

It's outdoors time again! Whites, brights, sunshine and fun. I am going to pack away all my art supplies (well, almost all) and take a break from serious painting.

This summer I intend to stop to smell the roses. Somewhat literally too. I haven't even once really enjoyed the red roses that clamour to climb up to the patio from the ground below.

I have assigned myself the tiny mint patch that revives itself miraculously every spring, but by mid summer gets hopelessly overwhelmed by weeds. I will be the guardian of the mint this year.

Start small, and maybe next year I will actually plant the entire row of flowers leading up to our front porch.

2007-05-05T08:03:00.000-07:00

These are size double zero.
The shoes, after they are bought, are painstakingly cured with a mixture of cooking oil and kerosene, to soften them like butter and make them weatherproof.They command respect and a certain awe when the wearer of that size, who is usually of an imposing stature walks along: they creak with the rhythm of his step due to certain seeds that have been put inside the heels.

2007-04-24T15:06:00.000-07:00

Everytime I posted something on my blog, I would check back to see if anyone had left a comment. I did get some comments but after that nothing.
So I visited my own blog as an outsider who would want to leave a comment or two.
Guess what, no comment box.
I think I have fixed it now.
Comments welcome, folks.

2007-04-23T18:42:00.000-07:00

At the very beginning of this blog I wrote that the person of the year this year is You.
You can do it, (we can help!)
Now I am having second thoughts, especially after the senseless incident at VTech.

The person of the year is You, in context with the rest of the world, in co-ordination, cohesion and co-relation with the people around you.

People matter. Your family, your friends, your neighbors, co-workers, teachers, students, classmates, everyone matters. You cannot live alone, whether physically or in spirit.

Nor can you have the world, your world, revolve around you. You matter to others just as you do to yourself.

Journal Gift

2007-04-20T12:44:00.000-07:00

This is the updated version of the journal now on sale.
The green dancers' graphic fit beautifully on the dimensions of the book.

2007-04-18T17:45:00.000-07:00

One more product that I plan to bring out as a gift article. This is going to be my theme image for a long time. Soon this will be printed on coffee mugs. Watch this space!
If you would like to have this box, please let me know.

2007-04-17T11:41:00.000-07:00

आज की ताज़ा खबर!
अब यह ब्लोग हिंदी में भी आ सकता है।
गूगल वालों की मेहेर्बानी से अब हम लोग राष्ट्रीय भाषा में लिख सकते हैं
गूगल दा जवाब नही!

2007-04-16T13:46:00.000-07:00

You win some, you lose some.

After agonizing about merchandizing my artmyself, I have decided to give the matter a rest and let the website do the selling.

So if you like my work, and would like to see it on tile coasters, framed tiles, tile boxes, journals, bags, wall clocks, mugs and mousepads, do visit www.cafepress.com/medhaonline and take your pick.

I will be very happy to know that you got something for yourself, or as gifts for your friends.

Feedback absolutely welcome!

2007-04-15T14:26:00.000-07:00

This is my latest work, three orientations in a triptych.

These were done very fast, in the course of one evening, a welcome respite from my ethnic work, which is done with a very restricted palette, mostly white on darks.

This exercise was liberating and energizing.

The PROMENADE in Greeneville was very enlightening too. Mostly I got important advice from fellow artists to stick to smooth substrates like paper and board and steer away from canvas while doing my fine line work.

2007-04-11T11:43:00.000-07:00

Fish Face

Music and Dance

Two more to be added to my collection for the upcoming exhibits, not decided whether they will go to the May one, or the June one.
working on a collection of 9 square ones.
Comments welcome!

2007-04-09T19:25:00.000-07:00

Hands Positive

Hands Negative

Here is my Hands series in continuation, this time there are less images, and more background.

Thanks to computers and their immense capabilities in showing how an image will look in negative with just the click of a button, I could see how the original image would look in reverse.

The first one is how I painted it, the second one is reverse by computer.

Let's have your opinion on which one you like.

2007-03-07T20:54:00.000-08:00

Some more good news over the end of last week. This one is sold, and so is the first of the Hands.
And ten pieces shipped to another show, this time in a restaurant. More people seeing my work everyday, hopefully it is well liked.

2007-02-28T18:44:00.000-08:00

This is number two in my series "She lives in three houses" (reclining figure) which was up for silent auction at the Heart Gala on Saturday. I was very happy to know that it was much in demand.

A woman truly lives in three houses, the one that has her head (intellect) the one that has her body (presence in her home), and the one that has her feet (in which she is revered and respected)

I have explored this theme in several paintings, and some of the women are in a standing pose, but in each one, I have the three houses.

Also happy to note that the Hands painting was sold.

2007-02-24T14:59:00.000-08:00

Two new paintings, as I build up an inventory for my June show. It is a group show, in a real art gallery.

The emphasis will be on my "ethnic" style paintings.

These are loosely based on the Warli grammar, but with my own subjects, backgrounds and treatment.

Welcome views and comments.

2007-02-18T19:41:00.000-08:00

This fifth grader was sure, determined and dexterous. As Community Artist in Elementary Schools I got a chance to meet several such fifth graders in my Paper Sculpture class. It was just a two-hour long project, and though some of the time was taken with the Lesson in the Art Book, once they got down to the actual creation, the results were astoundingly original.

2007-02-14T19:28:00.000-08:00

Photo: C.V. Subrahmanyam

Work is Worship.

Work is your best friend.

When in doubt, work. Even when you are surefooted and focused, work.

When you need money, work. Even when you don't need it, work.

When you have work to do, you don't need anyone to talk to, to go with, to think of.

Work is your spouse ,your friend, your child.

Work fills the days of your life, the spaces of your mind, even your pocketbook and bank account!

I love work.

2007-02-08T15:42:00.000-08:00

Hey what's this! TWO posts in one day? Well, here is my new Santorini.(actually improved Santorini). Compare it with the earlier one. (the one above is the earlier version.. each one to his liking)

2007-02-08T15:35:00.000-08:00

Just completed this one. It is a small canvas, about 10" x 10" gallery wrap, and my first one to get included in future inventories.
The color scheme is a bit bold, but it seems to work for now. I have toned down my colors considerably for the next one. Canvas is fun!
First Friday at Market Square was bitter cold. It was great to have a reception as Featured Artist for the month.

2007-02-07T12:59:00.000-08:00

These are the two paintings of hands that I recently finished. They have been on the back burner for a very long time, but they are done now, and I am moving on to other things.

One new one soon to be completed will have a lot of fish(es) swirling about in different directions. Although it may end up looking okay, for now it send my head spinning...

2007-01-28T18:35:00.000-08:00

Sorry friends, I have been slacking off.
First, one more jolt after stepping on the scales and taking one hard look at self in the mirror. Add to that bad numbers on the annual physical charts.
So my priorities have changed.
A healthy body first.
Next, a professional approach to my art.
Everything else has begun to fall in place.

The adjoining piece is one of my favorites.
It started during the classes at H & R Block leading to Tax Season 2003. A classmate had requested a painting of Masks Re: drama class.

I came up with this one. She didn't like it, she said her colors were silver and black. Duh. I should have asked before even starting.

However, I had the good sense to take a picture of it before marching it off to Atlanta, to try my luck there. A frame shop/art gallery(store) took it, with the added bonus of matting and framing it for free.

Wrong thing to do.
It meant that I had to buy it back if I wanted it, since it was framed and custom-matted, with special mat cutting (read windows in the mat) and a brass label with title, artist etc. on the frame. Not sure if I like it much.

In the meantime, a prospective buyer has liked the photo and commissioned another piece along the same lines, and the said frame shop has been kind enough to let me have the original and attempt to sell it, with the understanding that I pay them for the framing when it is sold.

Fair and nice.

2007-01-18T19:12:00.000-08:00

Finally I am done with the painting of Santorini island.

And free to turn to another one. This one is being color corrected a little bit though, with more blues added to make it look hazy.

Pongal was celebrated at the Temple this Sunday. We attended, and it was like going home to Chennai, or Madras as we are used to referring to it. The references to Makara Jyothi over the hills of Sabarimalai, the call to Swamiyai... Sharanamaiyyappa, the pongal, vadais, and the shakre pongal, all brought sweet memories.

We were a transplanted lot, all of us Marathi speaking people in Madras, but we made it our home, and, although Makar Sankrant is a festival in Maharashtra, it is not major as Pongal at the same time in Madras. We gladly and totally adopted all the rituals and food and fun that go along with it, with no conscious thougts of "when in Rome..."

The same in our adopted country now for the past ten years. Thanksgiving and Christmas, why even Valentine's Day! Looking at us now, you may think we have been celebrating these holidays (not festivals, now, holidays) forever. But then again, there is fun to do the things that people around you do and enjoy (clean fun, of course) rather than dance to your own stubborn beat.

Anyway, so much to do, and so little time as always.

2007-01-10T20:18:00.000-08:00

Watching "Teesri Manzil" has become a ritual. At least once every summer, and every Christmas holiday season, Mr. ShamsherRaj Kapoor enlivens the television screen, hopping pigeon toed, shaking every conceivable muscle, feigning anger, proclaiming his love to the lovely lady, and endearing himself to two generations at the same time. actually three if you count my mother. but she is more partial to Mr. RanbirRaj Kapoor. None of us agree with her. Luckily my daughter is in my camp, that of the eternal fans of Mr. ShamsherRaj Kapoor. This holiday season we watched his hit songs on dvd instead of the Teesri Manzil "suspense". What a treat!

Think "Yalla yalla dil le gaya", "Tumsa nahin dekha" and "ai Gulbadan"

By the way, if you didn't know it, read ShamsherRaj as Shammi and RanbirRaj as Raj and everything will fall in place.

If you want to see rare photographs and read a true love story, go to www.junglee.org.in

Shammi Kapoor's own website.

2007-01-08T20:29:00.000-08:00

Carmel Mission next painting reference photograph:

Common thread: the rugged wall, the bougainvillea,
the tiles on the left.

However this one will be vertical.

2007-01-07T10:26:00.000-08:00

Greece.

Fairy tale island of Santorini.

Planning on painting the scene. Ever since I have turned to painting landscapes, I seem to notice places and pictures that beg to be painted.

2007-01-04T10:01:00.000-08:00

These are bedsheets from India. The fabric is real fine cotton, and the print is timeless black on white.
They are held up using clips and rings from IKEA.
Love my curtains, love IKEA.

Finally got an authentic sounding recipe for fruitcake that does NOT use rum.
Mine turned out pretty good, the steeping in fruit juice every other day helps to keep the cake moist.

2007-01-03T18:45:00.000-08:00

The entire family (well, almost) was into beading this holiday season. Several items were created, and now I am into it, at least mentally. If you like jewelry, and can appreciate the unique and the precious-because-it-is-rare, you can have endless treats, since the sky is the limit where raw materials for jewelry go.

One has worn rock and stone, bone and wood, plastic and metal, precious and not so precious, even feathers. But porcupine quills??

I chanced upon a beautiful, simply made necklace using natural porcupine quill beads and black round beads, and hence started researching porcupine quills. That will probably be our next project.

(Images courtesy organicjewelry.com and ebay)

2006-12-28T21:05:00.000-08:00

Our trip to IKEA gave me these beautiful curtains. Ivory linen panels with black embroidery across the width. tiny stars all over. natural fabrics are my all time favorites.

2006-12-22T21:51:00.000-08:00

These are the famous raised sidewalks of Morristown. (photo courtesy www.lesjones.com )

Quite a landmark.

I had a chance to walk up and about the sidewalks a few years ago, when all the hanging flowerpots were in full bloom with vivid pink flowers. The view from above the street is quite remarkable. Stephen had got a camera from his dad who lived in Florida, and his mom promised him a trip about town to take pictures and we were invited, my son and I, to go along. I was a bit apprehensive, never having done things like that before. She brought grapes and some punch and we even had a mini picnic. Stephen must have got some good pictures, somewhat like the one above, with flowers of course.

I am not familiar with the history of Morristown, but this downtown must have been quite busy, with the two tiers of stores, somewhat like the shophouses of Singapore.

It is a unique feature, these raised sidewalks, and I am told that only three places in the world are fortunate to have these, one of them being ours.

2006-12-21T15:01:00.000-08:00

Everyone has their favorite cake or memories of their favorite cake, or favorite memories of their favorite cake.

Mine are associated with this plum cake from Marosa Bakery in Bombay. Does anyone remember?

My uncle got us this cake (he was a foodie extreme), all the way from Flora Fountain when we were kids. At that time I didn't know how far he drove to get it, who or what was Marosa, or what went into this cake. All I knew was that it looked ugly, but tasted divine, every morsel a juicy surprise: a raisin, a cherry, a walnut.

Fast forward to my first day at my first job. Central Bank Main Office, Flora Fountain. As I began to climb the ancient marble steps, I smelt that aroma again. Someone was baking that same spicy rich cake somewhere.

Marosa Bakery was right next to where I stood.

As I was abosorbed into the Parsi culture of Central Bank, Marosa became a part of our lives.

Any and every occasion had to be celebrated by a cake from that hallowed institution.

2006-12-20T19:40:00.000-08:00

Life will certainly become easier if it becomes simple.

Less is more for me in 2007- less stuff to manage, more to do and enjoy.

One really good suggestion I came across today is: "Don't spend time to save money, spend money to save time."

How true. One wastes the most important commodity there is: our valuable time.

Talking, repeating, discussing, dissecting.

Buying, collecting, storing, preserving.

Let's value our precious hours and minutes - and make the days count instead of counting the days.

2006-12-19T16:15:00.000-08:00

last month we went to the mall in knoxville - it was too early to think of the crazy gift giving season to follow.

the shop windows were sporting the new holiday themes, the tiring and tired feeling of too much had not taken over, and it was refreshing to be languid window shoppers at a time when styrofoam snowflakes and holly leaves and red berries were just cropping up.

the swarovski showroom was like alibaba's cave, spots of laser sharp light beaming on rainbow facets of animals, butterflies and dolphins-none of which we wanted. we were happy recipients of those specimens back home.

in a showcase on the right, dangling from grey leather cords, hung these beautiful lumps of color and light, a lovely grown-up pink and light shapes that were quiet and dignified, yet the whole effect was fresh and striking.

however, when i was asked if i wanted it for christmas, i said no. maybe for monu.

but now with all the frenzy of "gifting" and the fun in being gifter and giftee alike, my "aasai" has snaked back to the pendant above.

when i mentioned this to husband, he said save it for next year: the "aasai" that is.

therefore i start my 2007 wishlist with this awesome rock.

The Person of the Year is YOU

2006-12-17T07:31:00.000-08:00

Yes, You, thou, yourself.
take this time to look back upon the year, and upon yourself, and see if you qualify!