Rains...

Nothing makes me smile more than the smell of rain. 

There is something pristinely purifying about rain as it works its way down to us - almost like a message from above. 

It heals, in its gentle presence. It quietens the mind with its comforting chatter. 

It cleanses and clears the air. 

It brightens up my world even when the skies are grey. To me, the colors seem crisper, brighter and more livelier after a rain than ever before. The world smells different. 

It smells of life and joy of hope and healing. It holds hope and vitality colored in vibrance. It announces a fresh beginning - of life bursting forth through the dry earth. 

It means all this and more. 

Not for me the dull, dreary view of the rainy day. 

Cloudy, grey, dull, windy, cold - that's how the world finds the rain. I on the other hand sit by the window and cloak myself in fond memories. 

Memories of midnight walks splashing through puddles, soaking to the skin - worried about getting sick the next day; but still with a smile that extends from one end to the other. Memories of cooking maggi on a hotplate sitting by the open door to the verandah as the rain patters down, all through the day. Memories of languid afternoons spent lazing, chatting with friends, talking of everything and nothing with the rain for pleasant company. 

Memories of that loud pitter-patter of the monsoons as it batters the tin roof of our ancestral home. 

Memories of driving through glistening roads lined with freshly washed coconut trees as we try and stay dry with the rains finding their way through those canvas window covers.... it feels like in another lifetime. Memories of the croaking toads that suddenly appear as if from nowhere soon after the first rains. 

Memories of those tiny, mushrooms that make their home in the little crevices of rotting old trunks as we all rush for cover. 

Memories of long, dark nights of thunder and lightning as the mighty monsoons announce their glorious arrival. 

Memories of those muddy clothes as we splashed our way through that green, wooded campus, in the middle of the night - only for that one cup of coffee. 

Ah - rains... and the memories that come with them...  :) 

Cities....

Cities are a lot like people. You like them or you don't. Some feel like kindred spirits in an instant while some others feel alien even after a lifetime. This one was reclaimed from the ocean and left an indelible mark on the relatively short history of this country.

Boston, with its history, its academic environment and the rampant jay-walking on its streets felt friendly, familiar and easy. The quirkiness of MIT, the tradition of Harvard, the throngs of people in the subways, the red brick buildings from a different era and the strong sense of history all seemed to resonate with me at a deeper level. In our four days there, we explored the city from end to end. We visited the harbor front to see the city for what it was when the ocean laid claim over it. We visited the italian neighborhoods that redefined food, the freedom trail that redefined independence, the museum that redefined art, the library that redefined the concept for me and we visited the blast site than redefined a tribute.

Its a city whose vignettes reminded me a lot of England and yet have left a distinct rebellious impression. I hope some day to be an actual Bostonian just to see how it feel up close and personal.

Reflections...

Water's reflection

By Carin 

Look into the water calm

peering over its edge
into the dark and quiet place
to see the reflection of
one's face

Many thoughts can be seen
among the waters ripples
that have been made
or is it the calm serene
that one can look and
see one's life history

Is there joy and happiness
that this brings or does
one see such sorrow and pain

Does one share a simple smile
or it is a tear or pain that
reflects up into the sunshine

Only one can see what
is shown in the mirror of
water you see, it's their
own reflection that they see
to show them what life
has been made for thee...

Talk to someone...

In a wireless world that is fast shrinking - we are forever looking for something. Emails, messages, free wireless networks etc. 

This was a good reminder... 

Because no matter how much we are connected with all the software around us, we need the hardware more. We need the people, the hugs, the hands, the pats and the words. Internet has brought the world closer in many ways but it has also taken us apart in subtle ways. Like when two people sitting together choose to spend time on their phones and tablets trying to stay in touch with people across the world than with each other. Like when people choose to leave a book behind and take the computer instead only to end up spending time waiting for the facebook and twitter feeds to change. 

This was a good reminder... 

For all of us to stop searching and to talk to the person next to us. :)

Because sometimes that is all you need. And at some other times that is the start of something big and wonderful... 

Reflections on art

Every once in a while, one experiences something that is both pleasing to the eye and challenging to the intellect. Something that makes you reflect and introspect, question the world and your implicit assumptions. Assumptions that you are not even aware of.

A visit to an arts museum has become one such experience for me - something that I look forward to.
It leaves me feeling reflective, creative and awed by the beauty of the people and the world.

Art is always fascinating and intriguing to a scientist like me. Far beyond the objectivity of numbers, graphs and findings, art is a subjective experience. There is no absolute truth that lies at the end of it. Art is what you make of it. Every individual brings something to the art and completes the artists' perspective in his head.

The artist may create beauty but the beholder's share of in the essence of art cannot be trivialized. As Einstein said, “The most beautiful experience we can have is the mysterious - the fundamental emotion which stands at the cradle of true art and true science.” There is something powerful and exhilarating about Art and about our ability to create and appreciate it.

Appreciating the nuances of art - the layers, the textures, the composition, the shape, the finesse, the interplay of it all is a fascinating process. But rarely do we question the very fundamentals of it.

After all - what is art? What is creativity? Is it the aesthetically pleasing use of the colors? Is it the accurate, life-like representation of the world around us? Is a thought challenging to be understood? Is it an artists' perspective? Is it philosophy? Is it a moment frozen in time or is it ever changing? Is it an abstraction that forces your mind to make sense? Or is it all just about the visual appeal?

The traditional more implicit view of art and creativity that I grew up with is rather restrictive and limiting but experiences make you question them. Visiting museums with their display of art from different genres, styles and artists set you upon a path of reflection - journey filled with questions but fascinating for the curious mind.

During my ruminations and reflections, I searched for an artists' perspective of art. Picasso says, "Art is the lie that helps us realize the truth" and that “Art washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life.” How profoundly true!

Even though, I might hazard describing creativity as a novel assembly or view of existing elements; I have been unable to find a mold that can define come close to defining art and its enormous possibilities. Perhaps Rick Riordan was right when he said, “You might as well ask an artist to explain his art, or ask a poet to explain his poem. It defeats the purpose. The meaning is only clear thorough the search.”

“Anybody can look at a pretty girl and see a pretty girl. An artist can look at a pretty girl and see the old woman she will become. A better artist can look at an old woman and see the pretty girl that she used to be. But a great artist-a master-and that is what Auguste Rodin was-can look at an old woman, protray her exactly as she is...and force the viewer to see the pretty girl she used to be...and more than that, he can make anyone with the sensitivity of an armadillo, or even you, see that this lovely young girl is still alive, not old and ugly at all, but simply prisoned inside her ruined body. He can make you feel the quiet, endless tragedy that there was never a girl born who ever grew older than eighteen in her heart...no matter what the merciless hours have done to her. Look at her, Ben. Growing old doesn't matter to you and me; we were never meant to be admired-but it does to them.” ― Robert A. Heinlein

These vignettes of art as seen at the Institute of Contemporary Arts in Boston set me forth on a journey of reflection and introspection. I hope they also help you understand art and its immense possibilities.

Barry McGee is the featured artist at the ICA and his contemporary art is an interesting and thought provoking perspective his art in cities. It is quirky, unusual, simple and at the same time thought provoking. A reflection of a city, where men and women are constantly drifting past each other, in a near trance state. 

 

Redefining art. 

Is art meant to be revered, displayed, protected and kept away from contact. Can everyday objects be a form of art too? Can you interact with art?