Light is like Water

Last year I moved all of my painting equipment to my sister’s house, because there was no space for a decently sized canvas on the floor of my bedroom. It’s a small room, and we had 3 cupboards in it, and 2 beds. My sister lives just 5 minutes away, and it was nice to go over and paint in her empty house on weekdays..

But I work mostly everyday now, and I’m too lazy to go over to her place on days that I don’t. And so it is that I hardly ever paint anymore. I painted two weeks ago though, on a day when I had no class. And I realized that I really missed it. Plus, my own bedroom has one bed less now, and a lot more floor-space than it had before. So last week I got my sister to make space in her cupboard for some random things that I didn’t want to keep in mine, and emptied out one whole shelf for my painting stuff.

I got all my brushes and knives and paint tubs home today. And 3 of my canvases and the incomplete one that I started working on that one day two weeks ago. I sort of like how it looks so far, so I took some pictures of it with my webcam. It’s actually not this blue; a bit more greenish, the type of turquoise I really love. I tried to colour correct the snapshots and change the contrasts and things But I didn’t do a very good job.

Untitled (WIP)


I don’t have a name for this yet, but it’s a painting about bits and pieces of a lot of things: Insignificane, the ‘Ultimate Stars’ episode of Discovery’s How The Universe Works series, a Marquez short story called Light is like Water, and a song by Devotchka called This Place Is Haunted. It wasn’t about the song initially, but it somewhat got mixed in with the rest of the stuff because I was listening to it on loop while working on the canvas.


And that’s it for now. Goodbye Zonk. Say hello if you’re reading this. And I know you’re reading this, some of you, on your android phones with your cool new apps.

Much love,

Ps: This is my second canvas in a row that I’m doing directly with paint. I think I much prefer working this way. It’s faster, for one, and I don’t have to keep searching for my nephew’s pencils, for another. Plus it makes me feel awesome.


Author: Kirtana K

I paint and make music and blog like a maniac. These days I try to run. But I have chicken legs and lungs the size of two-rupee balloons. I fail. I like pajamas and striped socks and books that read like song and songs that sound like poetry and strangers who read this page. And Maggi when I'm sick or cold or sad or celebrating. They'll find noodles in my veins if ever they cut me open. And potatoes. And maybe a tiny bit of whiskey. I'll be an Unidentified Living Object and they'll put my insides on display. It will be crazy. It will be awesome. It will.

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