Friday, November 14, 2014

I saw my imagination in flesh and blood

The hobby of interacting with people in the nude, while sketching them, has never failed to inspire me.

In a recently made painting I symbolized life with an image of a strong, curvaceous woman--a figment of my fertile imagination


Last week, I sketched a woman who's a replica of the image I painted to represent my life. I visualized her without having seen her ever. I was bemusing to see my imagination in flesh and blood.

She spoke about her life, challenges and sufferings--some continue to nag her.

Her struggle is similar to mine. She trying to let go of things that seem to linger on with her.

I am confronting the need to confront issues that I can't deal with. 

I know me. I can't avoid me. I can't lie. That's a lie. See, I don't lie.

I feel helpless. But I do my bit. Try not worry about the rest. It's tricky. I do worry.

For the first time, in a sketching session, instead of my subject baring her mind, I felt the need to bare mine to her. I think it's to do with trust.

Usually while sketching, I voice my thoughts, or intuition, to my subjects inspired by experiencing their unbridled self. 

They mostly hear me out, sometimes react, rarely ignore. I mirror my subjects. But during this session, she was reflecting me. I talked a lot about me that afternoon.

My immediate artistic endeavour is to document her by way of a painting. 

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