Everything is coloured like oranges and tea.
There was sky. there were clouds. and all of us were swimming in this strange little town.
the wettest place on earth.We were in the clouds. IN the clouds. Walking down the winding streets of this village proved to be difficult because We couldn't see what was two feet ahead of us.
Through the mist children would emerge. Smiling with little red umbrellas in their hands. They wave and giggle as I take their pictures and give them bracelets from my arms as gifts. By the end of the walk I had given away all my coloured glass beads from my wrists to them. Rainbow wrists no more.
They lived in little houses with small square gardens filled with flowerpots and ponds (with frogs in the ponds one small girl told me in broken hindi).I want children I realized.Hah. I want to live in a small bluewoodenhouse in the hills with many little children with a pond in the garden with frogs in it where everything is wet and one walks out of the door and onto a cloud. Or by the sea in a sandcastle with a little girl with flowing hair and I'll collect shells with her all day long and make more sandcastles only so they can be destroyed again by the crashing waves.
Beh. In my artclass there's this little girl who I show glitter to and tell her I've scraped it off a rainbow and she believes it. and she sits on my lap in everyclass and cries on my shoulder if her painting isn't the way she wanted it to be as I stroke her hair and tell her its beautiful.
I think I should keep her.
I want too much. too fast I think.
like the one I owned when I was young.
By the truckload 'they' cautioned us along the way to remember poor Hansel and Gretel Who got lost in the woods and other feelings we could wear no more: miniature labyrinths we could no longer find our way back into. I shoulder my disguise and try to capture the rain in the palm of my hand.
and the smell of your hair
i hit as hard as i can
with my nose
jumping into a puddle
wearing no boots
completely soaked (dripping wet)
wearing no boots'
'I did not know what to say, my mouth
had no way
my eyes were blind,
and something started in my soul,
fever or forgotten wings,'
and let their soft drifting signs drop away;
your eyes closed like two gray wings, and I move
after, following the folding water you carry, that carries
me away. The night, the world, the wind spin out their destiny.
Without you, I am your dream, only that, and that is all.'
wear costumes, have greenduckpuppets as friends.
use light so they look like paintings
use shadows too
they are ambient fish.alternative fish.
they live in soundscapes.
they are bubble blowers.
they write songs about moons,guns,hands with holes in them,the ocean and delirious states
they sing songs like umbrella,rajkumar classics,bhangra and bullah ki jaana me kaun.
play guitars,bass,drums,didgeridoos,radios,autohorns and cellphones.
they tend to explode. but its justified.
they are undefinable. unpredictable.
deep sea diving
"George Mathen is an artist by day and fully in control of the drum kit by night. He is also responsible for Piranha’s visual identity."
"Rohan Ramesh, current medical student and future quack, takes care of the bottom end with proficiency on his Warwick bass guitar. "
"Kamal Singh on guitar and vocals, uses lots of alternate tuning and open strings, and hits the grunge spot with alarming accuracy."
"Abhijeet Tambe on guitar and vocals, emerges from the tangle of the electronic loops in his studio to provide the ambient soundscapes with lots of guitar delay and reverb."
'I jumped in the river, what did I see?
Black-eyed angels swam with me
A moon full of stars and astral cars
All the things I used to see
All my lovers were there with me
All my past and futures
And we all went to heaven in a little row boat
There was nothing to fear, nothing to doubt'
-Pyramid song, Radiohead
Click on Image to read details.
Entries must be accompanied by a signed statement confirming the applicant’s date of birth, whether the applicant’s work has been published in print and/or exhibited in any forum (give details), and also affirming that the submitted work is original.
Toto Funds the Arts was established as a trust in Bangalore on September 15th, 2004. It was set up in memory of Angirus 'Toto' Vellani, who passed away in a tragic accident in Goa on May 24th, 2004. Toto – as he was known to his friends – was well known for his poetry, music and film criticism and other writings among various youth communities in the art.
TFA gives awards, fellowships, and grants to young artists and writers who demonstrate exceptional flair, promise and talent,talent that is yet to test its full potential.
Its main focus is the art of urban youth, which is least applauded and encouraged in our country. Much of their art is neither classical nor folk, nor national or regional: its form is hybrid, of mixed origins, influenced as much by the local as the international.
Click on the image for more details about the awards
and spread the word!
little boys in a womans disguise.
with their feet
on their hands
with their eyes
'Recollect me darling raise me to your lips
2 undernourished egos 4 rotating hips
Hold on to me tightly Im a sliding scale
Cant endure then you can inhale
Clearly out of body experience
Interferes and dreams of flying I fit nearly
Surrounds me though I get lonely
Moving up slowly
Shes moving up slowly'dastakar 2007