Better late than never (May 2010)

Over a year ago I went to India. I spent the majority of my time at the Sevalaya teaching art and hanging out with kids, and the rest of my time in the city of Chennai. I've hardly looked at the photos since, partially because it makes me sad, and partially because it would take days to get through them all. But yes, I admit it: I'm awful at finishing things. I finally dug up these photos with the intention of slowly working through them all this month. I could go on forever about the people, smells, tastes, memories, but I'll keep it simple with a few pictures.

Sevalaya in Kasuva Village, Pakkam, Tamil Nadu

Chennai, Tamil Nadu

  

                                      

Some of my favorite girls

I miss these little feet.

For pictures from earlier in my trip: Click.

Ulysses

Sometimes it just takes a really beautiful song, by an artist I really respect and admire. I read a definition of inspiration the other day that made me reevaluate my perception of the word. It went like this: "the drawing in of breath; an inhalation; the act of breathing in." This song makes me want to do that. And so, this afternoon I'm forcing myself slow down. It's easy to get sucked into the craziness of life and never take the time to breathe and reflect. If I could do this more often, maybe the ideas would just start to pour out of me. With a journal in front of me, a cup of coffee close at hand, and music in the background... I can feel them coming now.

Let's just take it back a few years

I think we all sit around sometimes and just wait for this spontaneous thing that we call "inspiration" to just happen. We wait for the clouds to part, for a chorus to burst out into song, and an idea from heaven to drop out of the sky. A sudden brilliant idea? Come on.

Lately I wake up, and I'm tired. All day. Every day. Maybe its because work, and school, and homework, and other responsibilities will do that to you. Maybe its because I drink too much coffee and not enough water. Maybe it's because I don't go to bed early enough (ever). Maybe my body is just starting to feel the affects of aging (although this may be a little melodramatic considering the fact that I'm still in my early 20's). Either way, I'm an artist…but I am so unbelievably uninspired. I am burning in the sun in the middle of the desert with no water. 

I never used to have this problem. But I think I just let myself get way too caught up in everyday circumstances.  When I was younger, my sister and I used to share a room. Once the lights were out, we would lay upside down, dangling off the sides of our beds, slightly suspended in mid air. We would imagine a world underwater and what it would feel like to be a mermaid swimming with dolphins. I miss this. And while I probably won't go back to this moment, it's something to keep in mind. Maybe inspiration can come just by immersing ourselves in the presence of children. Why? Because their everyday truth is sometimes just as real and valid as their imaginations. They are endlessly inspired, because they let their mind push the limits and boundaries of reality. 

Over this past year I've had the opportunity of spending a lot of time playing with kids, laughing with them, teaching them art, and hearing their stories. I realized that being around kids making art or experiencing it for the first time, reminded me why I love it so much. 

The images you see are pictures I took from an assortment of memories: King St. Block Party in Worcester, teaching art classes in India (Click for more pictures...I ultimately failed at documenting my full month in India…but you can still read about the first week!), StART on the Street in Worcester, and Main IDEA camp in Worcester (taken by Worcester Mag).