Saturday, December 26, 2009

Wear my art

My canvas has now taken on the form of clothing. T-shirts are what I have started with. Each Tee is individually hand painted and one of a kind. Sold at People tree, in Connaught place, New Delhi.

You may also request for a T-shirt to be painted, which I will then post to you if you don't live in Delhi.
E-mail me at 2taragoswami@gmail.com




























Available at:
People Tree, # 08, Regal Bldg, Parliament St, Connaught Place, New Delhi

Sunday, July 19, 2009

"Walls laid on their sides make bridges"
















































Mixed media on brown paper

size- big.

Sunday, July 5, 2009

Through the mist
















there came a feeling of lightness, and the future no longer held anguish.
And when she flipped the card around she realised that it had been the Queen all along!
(with a heart, no less).

Friday, July 3, 2009

Dream

Play
















Hello boy....




Mixed media on my moleskine.
Thank you Danny! xx

Thursday, April 9, 2009

My mind, as it wo/anders

I wonder whether I'd like to be a drop in the ocean,
or the ocean itself.
Even if I were the ocean,
Could I be that minuscule molecule- that moves, just a little,
and affects other molecules to move, just a little
eventually creating a ripple.......

Will I hear at the end of this silence?
Or will it come to me when I forget that I was waiting for the silence to end?

Wait for me, I shall come...
but who is it that I want waiting for me?
Is it I?
Will I find myself before I can lose myself?
Tell me, in the absence of I is there anyone at all?


Tuesday, March 10, 2009

Oooooooze

I am full of paint and I'm crying over it.
Do you really think so?



Perhaps a little mad or a little sad
What have you got to say?

Monday, March 9, 2009

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

Tell me the other side of the story....

mixed media
79cm x 55cm

Of my art as it grows......



mixed media ( acrylics, powder paints, blood, egg white)
79cm x165cm
click on the image to do justice to it.

The melancholy look of Miss Ray

Acrylic on paper

On the way there and Lanka

Being back in south India after almost a whole year I felt at home but somehow moved.
We were in Chennai two years back, around new years. I was a different person then, and now going back there again, felt like a deja vous from a past life.
I met friends but somehow they seemed in their own world. Like how each of us have moved away to our own separate lives.















After two days in Chennai, we left for Sri anka.

Our flight from Chennai to Colombo was crazy, all the tamilians in their lungi's, sipping coffee off flasks and yelling twenty nine to the dozen. Each one was carrying atleast four dutyfree bags of cigarettes. ( to sell) Among this boisterous crowd was a curious little guy who sat coyly in his seat, got bullied by the rest of his gang, and in some strange way reminded me of the white tiger.
That morning I met another little man. Who smiled at us with twinkling eyes.
I call it the morning of the two little men.















Sri Lanka in its cleanliness, really puts India to shame- was my first reaction.
( I don't think any country in this world is as filthy as that of our own)
It felt like India, but foreign. The same feeling one gets when you enter a completely foreign country.
Refreshingly green, like Assam with the ocean lapping up its shores.. it is truly beautiful.

My respect for Ravan has increased many fold.
If I were Sita I would choose Ravan any day over that Woossy of a Ram!!















The First day we were there, we went and had high tea at the Galle Face Hotel.
The sea crashing at the end of our table.
The British have really left thier imprint behing in Sri Lanka, fresh cream with scones, dainty bite sized cucumber sandwiches that melt in your mouth. And tea- in every little place is brewed and served out of tea pots in cups and saucers!





























But the fact of the on going war could not be ignored. Uniformed police and army officials patrolled the streets.
One always needed to carry ID. I was told that the deserted, barricaded, barbed beach, in front of our hotel once thronged with people - families and lovers and vendors out to meet the sea.
As I stared at the sea beyond the barbed wires, I felt suddenly disturbed. Only days after the mumbai attack. This is the same sea that the terrorists sailed across. The sea- always such a beautiful thought for me had now been slightly tainted.
And I remembered the morning we were leaving for chennai. At five in the morning, the Delhi airport was swarming with army men dressed in their green uniforms. Some looking un-polished and shabby. Some looking sad.. or maybe it was me who was sad because I imagined the state of the country if it were to go to war.
And about how many of these men would lose their lives for us.














I was really taken up by the outfits of the Sri Lankan women. Most of them are dressed in "skirtblouse"
which apparently has something to do with export surplus. It works well for the economy.
And most of them have really skinny legs. so skirtblouse, stick legs, mallipu (flowers) in the hair and long braids.
The sri lankan style of wearing a saree is quite unique- with a little fan like thing in the front. I was to learn.. but never got down to it.















Then I met the buddha again. Actually not again but for the first time.. in this sort of a way. And the the words of my buddhist monk came back to me. So much peaceful energy and yet the country was at war...

I can not not talk about the food. It was awesome!!!!! really hot and spicy... first thing in the morning you eat the likes of string hoppers and spicy fish curry and your bum will burn but its too delicious to not eat.

It was a great trip. One more experience added to the bag I carry on this journey.

Friday, February 20, 2009

Love, Sex, Lies

its a funny thing.

a precious gift wrapped in pain.


It is a madness, a disease.
Is it the body or is it the mind?
can one even tell them apart?

I was born with an intensity I cannot control.
An intense burning within my soul.
ashes to ashes, dust to dust
blood to water, water to blood

pain and pleasure stem from the same cell
sometimes they mix and flow into the darkest well.

Like many of my other journey's,
my experiment has yielded laughable results.

I am drained
from feeling so much at once.
my heart is heavy and my head is empty
I am caught among the barriers
I have built for myself.
Embrace a new vision,
devise a new plan.
Feel the freedom,
get a hold of myself.