Art · Introspection · Random

of creativity and stirring muses.


There is so much I can do.  There are just some moods and seasons when my Muse wakes up and all I feel is creativity.  And these days its the best kind, not the desperate excitement about a single project that is expansive and enormous and will probably never be completed satisfactorily, but the quiet sort of bubbling creativity for a million different things from literary to artistic to musical.  Not that the million different projects ever come into being or are completed in one go and to my satisfaction.  But even if one or two result that is enough for me, enough for that season and I can go back to studying and mundanity in peace.

And yet it translates currently more to restlessness than a hankering after physical work.  She’s not really awake – she’s stirring.  I still lack the right kind of impetus.  Maybe I just need the right kind of music.  Which is something that can be very specific.  Such as I can only listen to Massive Attack when playing about with clay.  I really want to make that second goddess.  I can see her in my mind, see my thick clumsy fingers shaping her.  That’s the best sign, of course.  When a project or an idea grows to such startling clarity that you can see it happening, you can see it clearly.  Those ideas work out – those projects are the ones that reach completion.  Ideas are so tentative, so delicate.  So many die on the way.  But the clearest ones don’t, usually.  But you must let them mature to that stage.

Mama had the violin put on stands attached to the large purple wall in my room, the one not covered by bookshelves or broken by the window/desk/door.  Its rich mahogany colouring looks ostentatiously gorgeous against the dark purple…I am more than ever regretful of having given up on it.  I will pick it up again.  Maybe even this month.  In the meantime I admire it and kick myself repeatedly.  I need to paint the stands purple to match the wall.

The best thing is when the Muse starts stirring and I have time to pay attention to her.  Who wants ideas when all you can do is wriggle, frustrated, locked in the circle of books and exams?   They seem such a waste then.  And they never have the same flavour afterwards, as if they were fruit that had slowly rotted over time.  My Muse isn’t a bitch, but she’s jealous and partial, and doesn’t like to be neglected.  Her favours have a best-by date.

There’s a large pyramid, an old plastic chocolate box lying over near the table.  I saved it on a whim when I’d already put it aside in the trash.  It sits there, and I’ve been racking my brains for over a week for what to do with it.  Pyramids are such an exciting shape.  Sitting on its square base it looks mythical, dusty, Egyptian.  Inverted, it looks vase-like, contemporary, funky.  And it invites techiniques – papier-mache, paint, cardboard, clay.  Perhaps I should just stick it onto the wall, projecting its pointed tip into the room like a thumbtack.

The best ideas are original and elegant.  I rarely have that kind.  Mine are usually pretty/weird and inspired from something or the other.  It’s a headache sometimes, because you figure out the source sooner or later, or rack yourself trying to, and when you do nothing feels as good.  Even if it’s a completely different art form, even if its uncommon, or so common that your application of it is unique.  It still doesn’t feel as right.

But then I’ve never felt as completely comfortable in this world.  The art/creative world.  It isn’t mine.  I was never encouraged in it.  I live here flittingly, a stranger to all it entails, a smiling visitor, an amazed, enthralled, admiring tourist.  Even writing, literature, where I linger longest and which is the most familiar to me, is not a homestead.  Yet hesitant, shy, experimental, I keep on trying.  I add my contributions, quiet ones.  I squint about and play.  Most of all, I enjoy myself on these ventures and forays.  I like to create.  It’s fun.

Anyway.  I just hope it doesn’t all fizzle down to nothing over the next few months.

See you soon.

(23-2-2011)

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48 thoughts on “of creativity and stirring muses.

      1. Sniffle. I haven’t written anything in aaages. Seems like all I write anymore are articles and feature stories for class, or blogs. I started writing this story, the one I blogged about as well, and realized I was waaay too sheltered to write it right now. I mean how the heck can I write about a girl living somewhere in the UK when I’ve never been out of Asia itself?! You suck. Hrmph.

      1. hain na? I hate how people will only dress children in blue and pink. Its like assigning colours to gender at an early age, beginning that divide of ‘girls play with dolls and wear pink and go on to earn less’ and ‘boys wear blue and play sports and are alpha males of the house’

        but like even now most people have that association of feminity with pink so that’s why i said that. I’m a purple kinda girl actually, not blue. Purple and black ^_^

    1. haha no its not masculinity, but you’re too cool for pink. Now me, my gadgets and website wouldn’t be pink, but my closet has too much pink and I’m angling for a pair of pink shoes because I have shoes in pink, blue, purple, red, white, black, grey, but not pink. Much needed, they are. You, not so much. You’re more a black jacket, ripped jeans, heavy metal tshirt kinda gal. 😛

      1. I’ve never worn ripped jeans, but I have on occasion worn a ripped shalwar 😄

        And I’m glad I make a heavy-metal-t-shirt kinda girl impression on you, that really does sound cool haha. Man if only my mum would let me wear stuff like that 😀

        Pink shoes are a must if you have a alrgely pink wardrobe. They shouldnt be too hard to find either, I think.

        1. haha I hear ya, mom says I can’t wear jeans till I lose weight which lets face it, never gonna happen. 😀 I like my food and bed too much yo.

          Good pink shoes are hard to find. There’re lots of trashy ones but few good ones. There was this one dreamy pair, it was the toe divider wala chappal, beech mein ek long strip thi with silver stones in two straight rows on it and pechay se pull-on type ka strap tha. I wanted it in pink but my sister kept saying I should get white cause pink only goes with pink clothes so I didn’t get them. I wish I had now. 😦 But the white are really pretty, the strap at the back hurts like a bitch so I slide it down to the bottom of my ankle. I just had haleem.

        2. I had haleem in the afternoon. My mother isn’t cooperating with my food, she made me haleem, channay ka halwa and beef biryani for the weekend and I’m not going to be able to fit into anything on monday.

          Man, I can’t find ANY shoes my size. I have given up going to shoe shops because they depress me. So much for having a good height if you get ugly big feet with it 😦 but I hope you find your dream pink shoes soon. ^_^

  1. I think the haleem gave me the flu. Cough. Hack. My friend is bringing haleem on our field trip tomorrow. Its beef though. I like mutton. Sob.

    haha what size do you wear? My sisters have the same problem, they’re a size 9 or 10 or something like that. I’m a teeny little size 7. 😛

        1. I have normal toes, but they kept having ingrown toenails for so long. now the right big toe has a half formed sort of aberrant nail.

          and lay off him, Ghausia 😛 we’re conversing on a public blog after all.

  2. insanely painful. And they kept recurring, despite all sorts of operations. They even did an operation where they burnt out the nail root using phenol, but the damn thing grew back again. They’re fine now though.

  3. Hayeeeee a boy in a BAND naheee what will my mother say?! What will society say? Nahe nahe naheeee!!! Fuck I hope future to-be or maybe-fiances never google me and come across this cheapster-pana. 😀

      1. “Oh um see… I was like 16 and just discovering the internet and all…”

        “You’re 25 now, how could you be 16 in 2011?”

        “Umm… I’m a really great cook?” Sure that will work. 😀

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