People always make the mistake of thinking art is created for them. But really, art is a private language for sophisticates to congratulate themselves on their superiority to the rest of the world. As my artist’s statement explains, my work is utterly incomprehensible and is therefore full of deep significance. - Calvin

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

It is nice, but it ain't all that very heartening you know.
I don't know if you would understand or have ever felt the same.
It is a strange feeling, something like wearing a custom made dress and spilling over
or indulging in that favourite flavour of ice cream and not connecting with the taste.
The strangeness and the sadness around it multiplies
as you know you are dealing with a favourite here.
You know you got it custom made when you felt the fabric
picked up the buttons, chose the hemline and gave "your" measurements.
It was hand made for you, for your sensibilities,
keeping just your likes and dislikes it mind.  
Then how does it not feel as right as you always imagined it to,
as it was always supposed to?
And worst of all is the question that what exactly do you feel about it all and how exactly do you deal with it.
Do you imagine that all this is just a figment of your imagination and not a real phenomenon.
Do you tell yourself that well, things, fittings, flavours and people change and you keep breathing.
Do you doubt your past sensibilities and accuse your memory of playing tricks on you.
Or do you just go ahead and get yourself a set of new favourites and well in that case what do you do when fate and life decide to enjoy a  laugh at your expense and present you with the same set of equations & questions.