Turn the Page

It's a reminder I always find useful, beyond New Year's Eve. With art, work, studying, decisions day in and day out - I often find myself overworking something without thinking about how starting anew or starting fresh could save me a lot of time and effort. I tend to be afraid of deadweight loss - letting go of those old ideas that have been brewing for a long time, but are stopping me from pursuing new, greater goals.

Ironically, I lived the quote as I was drawing. I actually had started with a different idea using a really thin pen... but it ended up being like putting on liquid eyeliner. And I was hesitant to abandon all the work I had already done, so I kept working and working it...until I realized I would have saved much more time by starting over earlier. Such is life.

the "turning" effect wasn't really coming through. Also was just too thick and chunky.

pencil > pen. goals: do pen better.

By the way - some product promotion

The other day in NYC, when I was in the Strand bookstore, I gave in and bought this set of notebooks. I loove notebooks. But I know I never really use them (never became a habit) so I try not to buy them. Didn't try hard enough this time.

Lastly, Artist Promotion!

Here's a lovely new cover from a good friend of mine, Anjali and the Tunes! Enjoy! :)



Happy New Year!

I came home this semester with a lot of extra tissue paper I never got around to using, so naturally, I looked up some DIY's to make them useful. I found two interesting wall art DIY's and worked off of them. (Linked in the headings below if you're bored at home and have some art supplies lying around...)

Here are some shots I took of my process. I'll continue these after the new year with the final products!

Textures With Tissue

Aluminum Foil Version

Coated with craft glue

This semester I entered a contest hosted by the Davis Museum at Wellesley College called "Mash-Up", where students are asked to create a derivative artwork of any type (performance, visual, written), based on an object from the museum's collection. The chosen work this semester was one of Monet's Waterloo Bridge paintings (below). I entered with an improvisational solo piano piece, and was chosen to play it in the museum! Someday I'll make an audio recording of it...for now please enjoy the video of the performance above!

The Composition

So I intended to vary the medium in my posts day by day and was planning on posting something music related today, but I spent the day in the city with my sister and ended up doing a few sketches in my down time...so here's some more art. Perhaps music will come tomorrow.

Speed Sketching

I've always wanted to work on sketching fast and doing it well. When I draw with a time limit (usually something like 5-10 min), I tend to get caught up in the details and can't manage to capture the scene before I have to leave. Still trying to get over this habit. For instance, this is my sister Joy at dunkin donuts - I didn't even get the chair she was sitting on before we had to leave to catch our ride.

Some Background

This is my latest piece, made this past summer, based on a photograph I took in Sedona, Arizona last winter break at one of the stops on the Red Rock Scenic Byway (right). The painting represents an idealistic view, highlighting a simplistic path to a detailed, grand summit.

I thought about indicating scale somehow in the painting to properly capture how amazing the view was. This location was quite a climb to get to, so the photo already discounts the height. And if you look in the original photo, I've circled in red a man standing among the rocks for scale. But I decided it would be fitting to leave it as it is, because an idealist's vision is often an isolated idea that isn't grounded in the realities of its fulfillment.



Feel free to share any impressions or questions by commenting!

Know of a Quote?

I'm collecting various quotes for an upcoming art/calligraphy works. Please message me if you'd like to share any empowering, humbling, inspiring truths or quotes, from anywhere, anything or anyone.

A Blank Canvas

The Challenge

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Happy Winter!

POSTS

The wedding toast scene from English Vinglish (2012), featuring Shashi (played by Sridevi - who's about 49 at the time!)

On the second day in Jaipur, Kumar-ji (our AIIS “Bhagvan” aka “god” - all knowing, all powerful secretary and administrator of everything) brought my roommate and me to check out and decide on a host home. In the taxi, when my roommate started speaking Hindi to practice, Kumar-ji explained to the driver that we were American students here to study Hindi. The driver laughed, delighted, and said "your Hindi is much more pure than ours!"

From then on, I've noticed, people in Jaipur are usually surprised, delighted, or entertained when they find out a foreigner is learning their language and welcome it. Whether I’m chatting with vendors, rickshawalas (rickshaw drivers), waiters, or just any strangers, people are impressed with the fact that I am learning Hindi, and even impressed with my speaking skills — when I know that my accent is far from accurate. It’s encouraging to know that my efforts learning Hindi in India are appreciated. Having this experience, however, makes me think about the experience of learning English in America and in the world.

Appropriately, our class watched “English Vinglish” (2012) (summary and review), a Bollywood movie about the struggles of Shashi, an Indian woman determined to learn English. At home in Pune, her family members make subtle (sometimes not), biting comments about her lack of English knowledge and in general, make her feel inferior. When she has to travel to New York for a niece’s wedding, she takes the opportunity to “Learn English In 4 Weeks” after seeing an advertisement.

Shashi’s struggles, growth, friendships, and romantic drama all amount to the climactic scene at the wedding, when she’s asked to make a toast and her husband, as usual, tries to silence her, apologizing to the crowd for her lack of English skills (what a jerk). But Shashi surprises the crowd and proves herself with a touching speech in English about love, family, and self-respect. Shabash, Shashi! (Way to go, Shashi!)


You should see the look on her husband’s face when he watches Shashi order food in English on the plane at the end of the movie — it’s like she has acquired new worth in his eyes. I found that uncomfortable. As cute and fun as the movie was, the whole premise of the film had undertones about language in India that I couldn’t ignore. Shashi’s story projected the idea that someone’s worth can rely on their ability to speak a language, specifically English, which reflects the reality in India and perhaps other similarly colonized countries.

Read this enlightening article I found from Forbes about “The Problem with the English Language in India” (2014) by Sahith Aula. It highlights and explains the oppression that results when a minority language is considered institutionally, systematically elite. With just 30% able, “to varying degrees,” speak English, and even less able to read and write it, there's a barrier to access for the vast majority of the country. As Aula states, “a person’s socioeconomic status in Indian society is approximately in line with his or her fluency in [English],” because so many institutions, including those of government, employment, education, and health operate in English rather than the local languages that the majority of people speak in each region.

This presents some kind of hierarchy of language where English and English speakers are higher up. The people in India who are surprised or happy about my learning Hindi find it unusual and ironic; one time a rickshawala said that, when local people find out Westerners are learning Hindi, they're wide eyed, because we are the ones who are trying to learn English! Furthermore, when I tell Americans that I'm learning Hindi, many have said, "Why? People speak English there!" — which is true. By speaking English, I can get around in India fine, because I have access to the most privileged spaces. So why bother learning a local language?

Well, my answer: take Shashi's story as a metaphor. Shashi wouldn't have felt compelled to learn English if she didn't already consider it legitimate to hold her English inability against her; her experiences with the English world and English speakers told her she was incapable and inferior, when really, she deserved the respect of everyone around her the whole time anyways. During that toast, her family members finally heard her when she spoke in English, and understood her, and were humbled (and in tears). Just because someone doesn't speak English, doesn't mean they should not be heard by those who do. 

Couldn't buy a piano, so I bought the only Uke I could find in Jaipur! Hindi covers coming up :)

I bet you’ve forgotten that this blog exists! I’m not too surprised that I haven’t posted anything until 6 weeks into the program, but I’ve also often felt disappointed at myself for it. Every weekend I would realize another week has passed without any progress on the blog, and it would bother me until the next weekend, when I realized yet another week had passed.

Recently, a similar occurrence revealed to me a quite hindering flaw I often struggle with. On Saturday, I had a late start to the day, and wanted to make the most of the 7 or so hours I had left to go out into the city. But because of technology failures, transportation arrangements, and general circumstances, I was left in a state of limbo, waiting for nearly 3 hours to go meet a friend. I had felt like I couldn't start any work because I was expecting her call at any moment, and hours flew out the window as I tried and failed to contact her. By the time I broke my cyclical logic and decided on a low-time-commitment-productive thing to do while waiting, I finally received her call and had to leave. Those hours of nothingness, unable to make myself productive or useful, were unbearably frustrating. I confess that I was nearly in tears by the end of it.

I'm a compulsive workaholic, or productivity-a-holic (if that’s a thing?) in that way. Any period of time must be dedicated to some goal or task. At the end of it, I want change, progress, action — some sign of efficiency measured in terms of my original goal, ideally in a tangible, perceptible form. This explains a lot about my working habits and my time management, which actually often work against my productivity. (It might even explain my lifelong affinity for art and music - more on this can be saved for another post!) Especially now, as I spend limited, school-funded time in India, I have the constant feeling that all time is precious and must be juiced for productivity.

With this mindset, I often get stuck like I did this past Saturday; my mind was so set on leaving the house to explore the city, it was hard for me to step back and think of other creative ways to occupy my time stuck at home. Similarly, coming into this summer program, I wanted this blog to be a concrete measure of efficiency, thinking that an audience would make me more motivated to keep up the blog, and that its multimedia nature provided room for creativity. Focused on this, my failure to update it has made me feel like I've fallen short of my potential. What I’ve come to realize is that in reality, my productivity this summer, whether in language learning or in time spent, can take many unexpected forms, as long as I choose to see them.

For instance, at halfway through the AIIS program a few weeks ago, me being me, I was suddenly struck with the (irrational) feeling that I’ve done nothing really, and perhaps I’ll go home from this program having done nothing! (Not literally, but more literally than you think) As a student living in the host country of the language I'm studying, everything from health, classes, homework, housework, the people around me, and the city around me, becomes an ordinary part of daily living. It feels like I'm just doing what's necessary to get by, not accomplishing anything notable. Furthermore, it doesn't help that AIIS hasn't given us a way to track our language progress in any tangible form, and that I keep focusing on my inadequate blogging.

In reality, so much has been happening both intellectually and experientially in small, but many ways. To start, I’ve been riding my bike to and from school, and after fearing for my life a handful of times in the Indian city traffic, I conquered my nerves and got the hang of it. I’ve travelled to two other cities and visited a few NGO’s. I've been improving in Hindi subtly while bargaining everyday out of necessity with countless shop owners or rickshawalas (rickshaw drivers), staring at the TV during dinner, or just hearing the language around me. I've been able learn from way more people than I ever have in India by just having the confidence to approach someone in Hindi, rather than just English. I’ve had some deep, meaningful conversations with the kind of friends I didn't know I was missing.

In short, I've realized that it's always easier for me to identify when I've failed at the goals I had in mind for myself, than when I've improved or achieved in a way I hadn't been looking out for. It just happens to be that I tend set rather specific goals, and become fixated on them -- like this blog. These two months, I’ve been taking notes on so many thoughts about privilege, tourism, anthropology, religion, language, etc… that I haven’t been able to properly, concisely package for the blog just yet, but will in a couple of weeks when the program ends. While I have felt that not updating this blog as frequently as I hoped was a failure on my part, I’ve also now recognized that I’m in control of my definition of productivity. So, sorry (not sorry) for the delay! (But do enjoy the music :) )

5:30 AM from our hotel room window

Am I here yet?

I'm finally in India, but still not in India. What felt like earlier today (actually over 24 hours ago), back at the JFK airport, I had entered an ambiguous, isolated, neutral space of "in transit" which I still feel like I'm stuck in. From airports, to airplanes, to cars, to hotels, I haven't really entered India yet.

Airports, are far from the civilization around them -- both physically and conceptually. They're always isolated from the nearest cities, and they're shaped and organized like no other conventional building, requiring signs marking every corner and area because otherwise, no one would be able to figure out how to get anywhere (ever). Inside, it's a gigantic waiting room; no one goes to an airport just to go to an airport. Everyone, a stranger to the hundreds of people sitting with them at the gate, is going somewhere, but not quite yet.

(In my case, I'm happy to say I wasn't alone. Rachel, a friend from Wellesley, and I booked our tickets to India together since our departure days coincided. It was nice to share in our anxiety, discomfort, and excitement for our different summers in the same country--mostly discomfort because 14+ hour plane rides suck the life and water out of you.)


When we arrived at the Indira Gandhi Airport, Rachel and I parted ways as I was received by a driver with other arriving AIIS students. On the way to the hotel, even though that characteristic blare of car horns surrounded our car, street vendors tapped at our window with toy airplanes, and the common sight of construction projects zipped by, I was still isolated at a distance, only able to look (although the ~100 degree heat was a nice touch).

All of the AIIS Hindi summer students are staying in a fancy hotel for one night in Gurgaon (outside of Delhi), classy by Western standards, with a shiny lobby, and superb food. On TV, I skimmed through the channels, from Indian news, to intense Indian dramas, to HBO, NCIS, the Mentalist, and Big Bang Theory. I could be in a Boston hotel right now. Based on my activities (watching TV, browsing facebook, and trying not to fall asleep), I could be in my living room back at home. I know I'm in India, and there are obvious signs that I'm here, but like I've felt for the past week, the reality of this trip still hasn't hit me.

Gearing Up

Tomorrow we travel to Jaipur, heading to AIIS "orientation" and our living arrangements for the summer. After all this transportation and aloofness, I need to gear up and be present. Knowing that isolation is possible, I need to remind myself to immerse in every action and choice - don't watch that Big Bang Theory episode you've probably seen before -- watch that Indian drama where it looks like someone died or at least someone's crying and practice your Hindi while trying to figure it out why. Don't be comfortable just hanging out with English-speaking fellow students and talking about relatable experiences in the states -- make those uncomfortable or confusing conversations happen across cultures with people different from us.

At the same time, I want to be conscious of those times when I feel like I could be anywhere - those global experiences that exist everywhere, whether in the arts, media, daily activities, etc, and think about their significance. For instance, social media like Facebook, Tinder, YikYak (had some interesting conversations about those at dinner), or the globalized film industry, advertisement strategies, aspects of home or social life. As I physically arrive, I'm hoping to also finally arrive, mentally and emotionally.


(Condensed update: "In Delhi tonight, heading to Jaipur Tomorrow! Am I ready? I hope so!")

Feedback welcome! Comment below or use the Contact page. Thanks for your support :)

(Jun 16 night)

"Jaipur City Palace" (2014) - a piece I made after my first visit to Jaipur

India - Take 3!