this is a flask. of the most amazing hot chocolate ever. made with two tablespoons cadbury cocoa, sugar and cinnamon sticks and mayn is it dreamy for a drizzly-cold day. you must have some. if you dont, you’ll end up chopping your fingers with a spoon and even jigsaw doesnt use spoons. he’s human enough to use sharp things for impaling. so drink this.
these are bacchas. they like pressing their marshmallow noses against wire and window at st. xaviers primary school in sherly rajan. they dont care about whether their clothes match, or why life isnt going they way they planned. they just wonder where they last put their favourite toy and what color to pick for their golas. these decisions dont trouble them much and hence we tend to feel a little envious of them. i cant tell you to be this, because you cant. that time is gone.
this is three things. this is my brother, his wit and scrabble. this is also called allocating your free time to people who deserve it and i wish i did it more often.
this is fernley house at perry cross road and it is older than me. its is shrouded by large blankets of bougainvilleas that cast pale pink light on the white walls when the sun shines through. this is history, meagerly accounted for. i dont know much about who lived there, but household stories are the most intricate, i find. human dynamics at their ugliest. and their best. this is a home. we all try to find one.
these are flowers in dainty pots on a cart by the roadside. i find them sweet and pretty as they sit there and i want to take them all home. but they cost too much. so i make do and take a photo instead.
this is a smiley-smiley mochi. he mends shoes. shines them. lives his days fixing broken-cracked lather and fallen apart latex. he has his friend with the crutches and a face painted goddess to watch him so he doesnt feel so bad with his bum on the street. he has a bicycle too so he can ride somewhere, anywhere and with his calendar he watches the day go by and im guessing, somewhere in those bold numbered dates, he has found happiness.
this is real juice. it grows from trees. but the back says made from 21.5% apple juice concentrate and water. i don’t believe that that’s legal. there should be another OJ trial.
this is how i work when i am serious. i maneuver myself through a mess and its alot of fun. this was taken when i was working on the portrait ‘hack3d’. i liked how it turned out. this also reminds me of my days in cambridge when i did art exams and working on a piece was some kind of legendary high. thankfully that kind of work still feels the same. high.
this post made me feel a little schoolteachery.
if that came through im sorry, because school teachers can be a little patronizing.
okay i have a very bad case of RSI now so im going to go.