(no subject)
This is not something that will ever go away. This is not something I can quantify. This is not something I can touch as of now. This is not something temporary. This is permanent, but will still change as I change. This is not something that will go away. This is something that I feel intensley passionate about.
In lamens terms, this is my experiences in India. This is not my experiences in India. Becuase I did not have any experiences in India. I was within India, but outside of India. I did not just go and look at things and find them pretty and fascinating. I lived apart of, with and for people while I was in India. I can't part from it. I can part from it. It will never go away but it is so far away.
There is only one way for me to deal with these extremely saturated emotions, and that is to throw them into my art. Otherwise, it is all a joke, a facade. Otherwise, I will be tormented every day, every time I think of it, every time I look at photos. I must immerse myself into it to let some part of it go. I won't let it all go but I need a small release, so as I won't go insane.
I'm not sure how, but it must be soon. There is no other way. I must survive.
Karnatika, Hompi, India 2008
That morning, I had decided to wear a half sari, which is a traditional Indian dress for girls who are not married. Although, it kind of went out style in the past 10 or 20 years. When we walked the temples and ruins many who walked by were so excited that I was wearing their kind of dress. We were walking up into some ruins and their were workers waving at me excitedly. I walked toward them in wonder and they called me in curiousity. They did not speak english, but language did not matter. We came together utterly swept up in the differences and likness of eachother. They showed me affection, a stranger, in the way that women show affection towards each other. They braided my hair, fixed my half sari, gave me turquiose glass bangels and gave me their smiles. They sat as close to me as they could as we shared this human moment.
In lamens terms, this is my experiences in India. This is not my experiences in India. Becuase I did not have any experiences in India. I was within India, but outside of India. I did not just go and look at things and find them pretty and fascinating. I lived apart of, with and for people while I was in India. I can't part from it. I can part from it. It will never go away but it is so far away.
There is only one way for me to deal with these extremely saturated emotions, and that is to throw them into my art. Otherwise, it is all a joke, a facade. Otherwise, I will be tormented every day, every time I think of it, every time I look at photos. I must immerse myself into it to let some part of it go. I won't let it all go but I need a small release, so as I won't go insane.
I'm not sure how, but it must be soon. There is no other way. I must survive.
Karnatika, Hompi, India 2008
That morning, I had decided to wear a half sari, which is a traditional Indian dress for girls who are not married. Although, it kind of went out style in the past 10 or 20 years. When we walked the temples and ruins many who walked by were so excited that I was wearing their kind of dress. We were walking up into some ruins and their were workers waving at me excitedly. I walked toward them in wonder and they called me in curiousity. They did not speak english, but language did not matter. We came together utterly swept up in the differences and likness of eachother. They showed me affection, a stranger, in the way that women show affection towards each other. They braided my hair, fixed my half sari, gave me turquiose glass bangels and gave me their smiles. They sat as close to me as they could as we shared this human moment.