Wednesday, October 08, 2008
Standing still...
As I looked at the empty canvas, which sat on the easel… its whiteness lost in the sands of time… it could have had many shades, many colours… had I painted…
Today as I stare at it, not knowing what to do… the paints, the brushes, and the palette that lie before me… are perhaps calling out to me… to play with them again…
There was a deep joy, a happiness that is beyond words… which engulfed my heart every time I played with colours… the brushes…and the smell of turpentine… it was a different world perhaps… where each moment had its own music… There was an intrinsic satisfaction each time I tried to paint… not knowing what would be the end… I quietly enjoyed every moment that I spent with the canvas, the colors, the brushes… was it kindergarten I ask myself… it wasn’t but it seemed as though it was like that phase of life…
I stand still looking at my old friend ‘my canvas’, which is perhaps waiting for me to begin again… to play again… am afraid if I’d be able to so… EVER…
Something beckons me to play with the colours again… I may have forgotten to paint… and forgotten to bask in this gift of life… which is so valuable… I hope Guru Sahib Ji would give me the strength to paint again… to play again… play again…
The music never dies… one can hear it even in the stillness of time… so is our relation with colours… brushes… the palette… Hoping to hear the music again… wishing to play again… to capture the little joys in every breath of life…
Today as I stare at it, not knowing what to do… the paints, the brushes, and the palette that lie before me… are perhaps calling out to me… to play with them again…
There was a deep joy, a happiness that is beyond words… which engulfed my heart every time I played with colours… the brushes…and the smell of turpentine… it was a different world perhaps… where each moment had its own music… There was an intrinsic satisfaction each time I tried to paint… not knowing what would be the end… I quietly enjoyed every moment that I spent with the canvas, the colors, the brushes… was it kindergarten I ask myself… it wasn’t but it seemed as though it was like that phase of life…
I stand still looking at my old friend ‘my canvas’, which is perhaps waiting for me to begin again… to play again… am afraid if I’d be able to so… EVER…
Something beckons me to play with the colours again… I may have forgotten to paint… and forgotten to bask in this gift of life… which is so valuable… I hope Guru Sahib Ji would give me the strength to paint again… to play again… play again…
The music never dies… one can hear it even in the stillness of time… so is our relation with colours… brushes… the palette… Hoping to hear the music again… wishing to play again… to capture the little joys in every breath of life…
Posted by Unknown at 2:02 AM |
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4 comments:
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At Saturday, October 18, 2008, The Literary Jewels
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At Sunday, October 19, 2008, Unknown
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At Wednesday, December 24, 2008, bsbk123
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At Tuesday, April 21, 2009,
'smell of the turpentine...'
Oh it makes sense now. I'm glad you were able to complete the portrait. Wrong blog post to place this comment but I liked this blog post.
I love the photograph. Anyway... your painting posts made me think og another canvas. Canvas of life... and the confusing lines that we draw on it.
It feels very strange writing on a blog again. It's been so long. Keep writing... you write beautifully.
smilies to you.
sat
A very thoughful post!
There are moments when 'there is a deep joy, a happiness that is beyond words' and painting is one of the best ways of expression.
Very true: "music never dies… one can hear it even in the stillness of time", but majority of us lack the capacity to listen to the eternal music playing around us in Nature all the time.