The Lan Su Chinese Garden in Portland is far more than a thing of beauty. It’s a space where serenity is overloaded and out-of-the-worldliness is the norm. This structure made me stop, wonder, and click as I mused on its weird shape and look. It appeared as if it were carved with meticulous precision while also seeming so natural—as if it had been effortless for the universe to create. I’m not sure if it’s natural or hand made, but it sure looked like something from elsewhere other than earth.
I hate it when people barge in on me while I’m trying to get some me-time. That’s why I’m always wary of approaching others who seem fine at being alone. It so happened while I was waltzing off on my own in Alki beach, I saw a gentleman standing by the shore observing the coming and going of the waves. He stood there for a while in silent rumination about things I’d never discern. In a vast emptiness that surrounded us, for he and I were the only ones on the beach, he seemed oblivious to my existence.
Although I felt an itching urge to engage this man in an animated conversation, I refrained. I stood afar and watched him as he picked up a few shells, scrutinised them, and dropped some of them back. I never saw him turn around.
Perhaps he had a grandchild who loved seashells, I thought as I walked away.
Even though I’m not much of a sweet tooth I can never pass up the opportunity to devour cookies. At the near-end of my first visit to the US, I realised I’d been there a whole moth without ever trying out Starbucks. So it was with much facepalming that I entered the Starbucks outlet at the Dubai airport. I was in transit from Seattle, and not at all hungry.
But who needs to be hungry to eat cookies?
I don’t think there’s much to love about where I live. But I also think that we have a tendency to overlook the simple beauty around us while we’re busy gawking at sights elsewhere. Thinking about that, I browsed through my archives and found a photo that captures one of the most likeable traits of my hometown. It’s en route to the Yearcaud hills located in the southern part of India. I live about an hour away from the hills and the road leading up to it are a wonderful adventure for any road trip junkie. Not only is the way made up of eight steep hairpin bends, but the bends also guarantee stunning sunrises and sets. It’s not the most beautiful sunset I could’ve seen in my life, but I wouldn’t miss it either.
The best thing about modern art is that it has no definition. Anyone can interpret it in any way they like. The artist doesn’t have to be precise or convey everything that runs in their mind. And that’s why no two people absorb a piece of art the same way.
But when the artist has multiple interpretations of their own to convey, then perhaps this is how it might look. This work of art sits at the Museum of Modern Art in San Francisco, California. It reminds me how a single thing can be single and many at the same time. It’s a depiction of how changing, how unfixed art—and to an extent, life—is.
The Chaos Within 