Insights

Writing is an art.

Information is the hottest commodity in the market.

And many are capitalising on it.

My intention is not so different, I must confess.

But I find it difficult. To put compositions in a structure.

When I started publishing online, I always kept in mind that attention needed to be garnered.

Attention is the currency.

It is good for me as an artist, and it is good for the projects that I want to expose to the audience.

I still believe that every word that is written, is written for someone’s eyes to read it.

If not the reader, the writer for sure. The author is the first reader of the work.

This is why I like to cook for my friends: I get to taste the food before anyone else does.

However, I am not comfortable with the idea that there has to be a recipe for creative expression.

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It’s good to know how it functions. But I want the practice to be intuitive.

Like adding salt to your taste.

It’s a flow. I don’t plan to do keyword research and decide what to write.

I just want to write, without caring too much about what the title is going to be or what subheading I should be using.

Sometimes I just write the title as a placeholder and the content comes out to be something entirely different. Off topic.

I hate corporate blogs, they are so pretentious and all look the same and say the same thing.

When an art is made, its progression is unknown.

You might have a face in front of you for the portrait you are painting, or a composition in mind for the abstract art.

But the outcome is not absolute.

Rothko wouldn’t have predicted the colours on his artworks, Pollock measuring the strokes on the canvas is unimaginable.

There is an intention, but not a purpose.

What manifests does not have a form inhertly. The form is pursued by the mind.

Like the rabbit in the sky is not a rabbit.

Then how to name the unlived life; before its manifestation?

Untitled.

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It is scary.

Untitled is not entitled to anything. A title that is not titled.

What is there to speak about something that is not named? Something that exists without a label.

Any attempt to speak of such art, creation; would be shallow.

Like saying — “Understand, but you won’t understand.”

Where do you place it on the wall and what description would you write about it for people to find it on the internet?

Although not made with a purpose, every expression has an intention to translate the creator’s thoughts.

The translation has the potential to transform some things in the beholders.

Metamorphosis.

What is the bridge between the unborn nature of art and the audience that is yet to discover the art?

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A baby step is a giant leap.

Every abstract expressionist has had a slow and steady start.

Gibran’s The Prophet sold only 1000 copies before it became one of the most-sold prose poetry books in the world.

This happens when the pundits were yet to decide if there is anything called “prose poetry”.

What if Gibran had thought that what I was writing did not fit a genre and I should drop the idea?

It would have made me sad because his writing is the face of hope in many aspects of my life.

It is comforting to know that, there exists something that is an example of not drawing the motivation from examples.

Create your own style, create your own voice and create your own genre.

Kafkaesque.

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Will success come late?

So many masters died poor and without an audience.

Van Gogh, Karl Marx and the list goes on.

There is always a lower hanging arch of the possibility that you are going to pay the price for living your life on your own terms.

“Cripples are jealous of the dancers” — Kahlil Gibran

Do we all creative people should be ready for the dire conditions?

Or make the art out of pity like Kafka’s Hunger Artist?

Gone are the days when the fortunes were shared with the monks. Days when men dedicated to finding the mysteries of the unknown were supported.

One of my Zen masters used to beg as his Buddhist practice. No one tossed a dime in his bowl.

One of my monk friends took a journey for a month to see how it feels to live begging on the street. The only sympathy he gained was in a cup of tea.

World has changed and so shall we.

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Worlds work in a very mysterious way. It is beyond our comprehension.

So many times I have thought that this show called Life ends here, and there is nothing more to see. (spiritually speaking).

And it was the exact moment when I was rescued.

We are blessed beyond our fondest dreams. And there is always a new horizon to be found.

The arrangement for creative minds to express and exhibit is profound in the era of the internet.

I no longer scribble in the book like I used to do in school.

And there are endless possibilities that my work would be found, I would be found.

By someone who needs to read it at the right moment at the right time.

“What you are looking for is looking for you” — Rumi

Besides life and death, there is one more thing that is certain, Something that is created has a place in this world.

May be in the form of illusion, maybe in the form of something tangible.

As a physical book or as a feeling in someone’s heart, the writing exists and it finds its way towards its destination.

The Internet is the medium.

“Medium is the message” — McLuhan

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I reconciled with this thought as the train of thoughts stopped at the last station to conclude the journey.

A feeling dawned upon me that changed my perception towards what I am doing and why I am doing it.

I can’t subside the urge to create.

I no longer go to any office. Spend my day in the garden reading, writing and sketching.

All my friends earning way more than I do, complain about how stuck they feel in the cubicals.

All I have to say to them is, I am happy with what I am doing.

And the earning part will follow too. And if it does follow I would be merrier.

Why dream of something if you can live in the dreams?

I get to express, inform, entertain and everything of that is reciprocated.

Keep doing your art, there is someone who needs it. To make their world a beautiful place.

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