A Beautiful Book.. 😊

I must have seen this cover a hundred times, yet I can’t get over the beauty of it! The colours, the expression, the textures… All are a work of extreme purity. 

Now, to come to what’s between the covers… Pure excellence.

Meandering between three decades, starting from the art and life of the first female Dutch artist to be invited to join the Artists Guild in 1600s, to present day New York of 2000 and a painting called, ‘At the Edge of the Wood’ and it’s forgery. Three alternating timelines and locations and their impact on the lives of different people, is done masterfully by Dominic Smith. 

I couldn’t agree more with the ‘People’ magazine review… “This beautiful meditation on love, loss, and art is as luminous as a Vermeer. ‘

Loved every word of this fabulous book.


The dance is always within us

Sometimes we forget the rhythm 

The song is always within us

Sometimes we forget the lyrics

The story is always within us us

Sometimes we forget the words

The answers are all within us

Sometimes we forget the questions

Everything that we need, is there

It’s just that we forget…. 

Art for Me… 

Some blobs of paint, a selection of brushes, a surface to work on and imagination….  LOADS of it! And patience,  to build up from nothing, a dream that exists only within you. An ephemeral idea that burns, sometimes brightly, at other times mildly and needs to be attended to. 

This excitement of capturing something intangible and giving it some sort of form for the world to see, is art for me. 

It takes me to places within me that I never knew existed. It introduces me to parts of my personality I didn’t know were there. It makes me observe nature like it might my last view of it. And while doing this, I miss nothing. My world is complete. I am in the world that I create. I am a bee hovering over a blooming Lotus and I am the shadow under a languid Lotus leaf…. And when it is all done, I wash my brushes and gently come back to this other world and drive myself home… Cocooned in silence and peace that even the raging traffic and piercing horns cannot penetrate….

This is art for me.

I Shed Tears…

I shed tears for shattered lives
I imagine the excitement as they choose

Matching bows and polished shoes

Laughter and joy, filling the air

As they joyously run, without a care

All venturing out for a little stroll

A fun-filled evening, their only goal

Unknown humanity, hundreds of lives

Parents, children, husbands, wives

Lie now broken like puppets, rag dolls

Flaying arms amid plaintive calls

Waiting for help, waiting for hope

Waiting for family, to help them cope

With senseless destruction, venom and spite

Spewing of which has become a rite

As lives bleed, the world shivers

Peace as Dove, on its bough, quivers

It flutters a little, sheds some feathers 

Looks on quietly as protesters gather

With candles lit in a silent March 

Wet cheeks and broken hearts

Flowers adorning, frozen smiles

Of precious members, truncated lives

It thinks about taking another flight

To better lands, with peace in sight

Somewhere with less darkness, more light…