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O daffodil my petunia, O daffodil my rose, 
Find my two lips in the darkness,
and let yours be my home.

(from ‘Daffodil’)

Photo inks, fat brushes, and way too many colours and way too little black. I’m used to painting in monotones. I don’t like to mix my blues with my reds and my greens. But oh well. You can’t buy new paint at 2 in the morning. And in spite of the skewed anatomy, I like how it turned out. And I like not having to draw before I paint. I also really like this paper. Thank you, Niyati.


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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