This weekend saw another Sunday swept up by brush-strokes. As always, I am supremely proud of my painting, which I am calling..well, ‘crossing the bridge’.
Inspired by his own passionate opinions and advice about the shape an architecturally and physics-compliant bridge must take, dear husband picked up pencils too, to create a sketch of his own after years- or decades.
When I told him he had basically sketched his father, he did not agree. So of course I sought other opinions to prove that I was right.
“You may not have realized it, beta,” my mom told him over skype after looking at the sketch and clearly confirming my opinion, “you know artists operate from the sub-conscious..”
And so dear husband was left with no option but to believe that he had in fact sketched his father.
So what about my painting? Where is that coming from?
My painting process is pretty straight-forward of course. It involves a certain image repeatedly flashing upon my mind till I finally put it down on paper. In this case, the image of a bridge stuck to my mind after I came across a fairly simple picture of a bridge on Facebook, not unlike hundreds of pictures I must be scrolling through every day. But this one just stuck. Interestingly there was no one on the bridge in the picture I had seen, but of course there is in mine.
A bridge. And crossing it. Coming from where? No clue. But clearly going back towards the city, coming back to civilization. How is she feeling? I can’t tell.. I can’t see the face. But she is walking slowly, with much dignity. And you know what else.. the city is full, perhaps even crowded, but magnificent.
And evening is setting. And everything is coming alive with glowing colours. On the bridge, one must pay attention to every tile.. what all colours are captured on these tiles..where there is light captured, and where the tiles are turning cooler, and bluer..it’s just so very important to observe that.
There is a city. It is neither too near nor too far. And it is clear she will eventually get there. But right now there’s the bridge. And the bridge right now, and being fully attentive to it, is for some reason more important than the place she’s coming from or the place she’s going to..
