hints, allegations and things left unsaid...
The joys of blogging (by the poolside)
Here is one blog for the sake of it. I am by the poolside at Leela Palace Bangalore, the gentle dusk breeze laden with myriad aromas (evening flowers, cigarette smoke, and others, but word belittle me here...) is flowing smoothly, constantly stirring the surface of pool water, leading to genesis of countless turbulent ripplets, providing the perfect setting for my creative mind to blog. The pool bed itself is worth a mention here, its not your typical monochrome (the chrome being a shade of blue that skies shower on a clear summer day) but a baroque mosaic of thousands of miniature tiles in several shades of blue varying from aqua to navy, arranged in frenzied pattern.
This week has been banal providing little to ponder about besides work. A monotonous schedule at work is almost always followed by fatigue, making sleep as desirable as water for parched throat. That leaves you with very little time for any creative escapades, so when this window of opportunity to blog came by, I pounced on it immediately.
The frightening extent to which you start discovering yourself when you are left to your own for extended times, can lead to intriguing behavioral changes. The thought that I prefer books more to company of my own species over meals is scary. It also leaves you with a strange sense of vacuum in your life (which you think would be somewhat reduced with each page you flip, but it only gets worse, for you discover the depths to which your ignorance extends). Each day is a discovery of masterpiece (I would gleefully label this period the renaissance of my life) � literary, musical or artistic that makes your existence of moment gone by feel worthless, petty. I just ran into a book of Dali's prints and discovered how little I knew of the painter (how little for I thought I was his ardent fan). He had a torrid childhood, troubled youth that manifested itself in his works - some gross, some brilliant, some like hallucinations on canvas, surreal renditions in surreal colors. Take your most vivid dream (or nightmare or your most intimate fantasy for that matter) and try putting it on canvas. Does not take much imagining for the dream itself is a figment of your imaginations - its there with you already. Take your most morbid, bold thoughts and render them in oil in every color on your palette - assign it a title that still makes it all make sense - that's Dali for you. And do check out this ray trace which is a wonderful amalgamation of at least 3 of his prominent works.
Weekend beckons and I am looking forward to viewing my latest acquisition - "Swan Lake" DVD - given its reputation, should make for eminently bloggable material. Adios!
Here is one blog for the sake of it. I am by the poolside at Leela Palace Bangalore, the gentle dusk breeze laden with myriad aromas (evening flowers, cigarette smoke, and others, but word belittle me here...) is flowing smoothly, constantly stirring the surface of pool water, leading to genesis of countless turbulent ripplets, providing the perfect setting for my creative mind to blog. The pool bed itself is worth a mention here, its not your typical monochrome (the chrome being a shade of blue that skies shower on a clear summer day) but a baroque mosaic of thousands of miniature tiles in several shades of blue varying from aqua to navy, arranged in frenzied pattern.
This week has been banal providing little to ponder about besides work. A monotonous schedule at work is almost always followed by fatigue, making sleep as desirable as water for parched throat. That leaves you with very little time for any creative escapades, so when this window of opportunity to blog came by, I pounced on it immediately.
The frightening extent to which you start discovering yourself when you are left to your own for extended times, can lead to intriguing behavioral changes. The thought that I prefer books more to company of my own species over meals is scary. It also leaves you with a strange sense of vacuum in your life (which you think would be somewhat reduced with each page you flip, but it only gets worse, for you discover the depths to which your ignorance extends). Each day is a discovery of masterpiece (I would gleefully label this period the renaissance of my life) � literary, musical or artistic that makes your existence of moment gone by feel worthless, petty. I just ran into a book of Dali's prints and discovered how little I knew of the painter (how little for I thought I was his ardent fan). He had a torrid childhood, troubled youth that manifested itself in his works - some gross, some brilliant, some like hallucinations on canvas, surreal renditions in surreal colors. Take your most vivid dream (or nightmare or your most intimate fantasy for that matter) and try putting it on canvas. Does not take much imagining for the dream itself is a figment of your imaginations - its there with you already. Take your most morbid, bold thoughts and render them in oil in every color on your palette - assign it a title that still makes it all make sense - that's Dali for you. And do check out this ray trace which is a wonderful amalgamation of at least 3 of his prominent works.
Weekend beckons and I am looking forward to viewing my latest acquisition - "Swan Lake" DVD - given its reputation, should make for eminently bloggable material. Adios!
posted: 31.5.03
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