burn-burn-burn-burn

Every song I hear
sound like a lament,

I cry.

I wanted to kiss you.

distance, sky, a bird, and flood.

Knowing the desire
like a sharp weapon
smiling with the edge
like an uncold
moonlitnight
farfaraway
pumping blood and
tickling the mind's
vein ends.


In a kiss all truths are buried,
Love, incomplete,  is a revenge.

hug-a-knee

If i could go back,
I will go and hug that little girl
And tell her that it is going to be ok!

Oh, but she grew up
and figured things out
anyway. 

Sand

The tighter you hold,
the faster it slips.

cock-a-doodle-doo

This is a scene recreated in memory of a home scene. Duh, nostalgia! We had, back at home, a hen who never used to come back to its shelter. Instead, a nearby rubber tree was her favourite hang out. Artsomniac used to wonder how the hen could sleep on top of a tree!!

Here, the lovely wooden toys were gifts 

artsomniac bought for her lovely niece in chennai, but eventually forgot to pack in her hurry. Sigh sigh! such a lousy aunt! The base of the tree is a bottle, to get the bottle in this form, buy jute thread and braid them and wind them on the bottle. Mix red thread for special effects. In artsomniac's case, she ran out of jute, so used the red to cover up. It turned out well. Art by accident. Ha! Twig is any twig. But find a nice shape. There, country scene from Kerala. Excuse the gentle man meditating under the tree. Artsomniac is quite fond of him, and by now you have understood that he is her favourite prop which she puts in all possible frames :-) The sneak preview of the mural buddha is her unfinished work! Ignore that till the next century when she finish it!

Summer Goddess Pajamas

 

Since they deported Hussain, there was a vacancy to paint goddesses, naked, semi- naked or clothed.

Hence, Artsomniac's  urgency to rush to the Art Scene.

Summer Special release:   Super Loose Goddess Painted Pajamas. 

Hand Painted Parvathi and Ganesha.

Black Fabric Paint on White Cotton Cloth. 

Pajamas : Cheapest Canvas.

fabric paint:  cheapest acrylic.

Wear your art, walk around, don't book a gallery, save some money. 

Join the 'broke artist's cloth club'. 

Seasickness

It was just a bad looking page
when I was flipping through the queen.
T'was no fun, to be no fun.

Love was prawns in the thoran.*

Tales of smirks, grins, bitterness,
detest, passion,
longing, haunting,
unkissedness,
palm reading in marine drive,
loneliness, hostel corridor,
death.

All I remember now is my pink mosquito net.
My nights, acidic dreams,
I was followed, gagged, raped and murdered.
For everyone who left me there to be me,
I want to puke.




*thoran: a variety of vegetable curry seasoned with coconut, small onions, curry leaves and coconut oil. In memory of Anju Jude who made 'fort-cochin accented' thorans sprinkled with prawns and scents of the sea for the home deprived hostel inmate friend. 


Yet another Kitchen Goddess here.