I had originally planned separate posts for each of the questions – however, I wish to fashion the answers to the remaining questions as a journey of sorts. Thank you, once again, Dante – here goes!
What are you reading right now? (besides this post of course)
What’s playing in your headphones?
How are you – mentally?
Is there anything about the world you would like to see change?
I’ve visited your city, what are you showing me?
Did you smile today? What made you smile if you did?
As we stepped into a new year today, I not only felt happiness for the hope and freshness that this brought, but also for how I wrapped up the last day of 2020.
It was one of those moments that finds you and takes you to a meditative trance. It was a cloudy evening with cool breezes and the slow dance of treetops. There was a drawing that I had begun working on in August, and it dawned on me yesterday that the best way to wrap up this year that taught me so much, would be to finish that drawing and to let it go with love.
The memory of that evening – simple yet wholesome – is what made me smile and brought a sereneness that settled on my mind like a soft shawl. A silent date with myself. The simple joys of feeling the breeze on my face, of having nature’s soft music in my ears, and the sense of completeness that comes when you add final touches to an art work.
Life too, is a work of art.
It has its ups and downs. There is a song that plays in my head these days – the OST “Ophelia” from the movie of the same name. If the tunes did not rise and fall as it did, it would not be a song. There would be no music or landscapes or even life that inspires it all.
I also came across some writing that reminded me of younger, more carefree days. That is what I’ve been reading. Journal entries of old, character build up and the rest; like a photograph preserves a face from the past, so does writing store a part of the person who created it.
Art is memory.
If you do visit me, I would like to take you to a place that evokes such memories in my life. I grew up in this town, so naturally there are places that can do that – but there is a specific part of town that has changed before my eyes as I grew up.
There is a circular road at the very heart of the town, and it surrounds a number of landmarks. A palace museum. An age-old temple. A library. But the road itself, the journey – is a memory. It used to come alive during the festival seasons, and I’ve walked along it a couple of times and felt at one with this place that adopted me as its own.
As I think of circles going round and round, of life unveiling itself like a beautiful work of art – you ask me, what would you change? I look around me, within me and sigh. Oh, but I don’t know enough about it to answer that, do I?
In the eyes of the world I may be a woman, but in the arms of life, I’m still very much a child.