so my laptop was updating and I had time to kill while I waited for it start up.
Thought I’d do a little brushpen freestylin’.
My 100 day project has been going OK. Sometimes I run out of ideas ( because how inventive can you get with wreaths after a point, really) but I still make sure I put something out. The whole exercise was started so I could practice leaves and flowers without feeling bored. That’s going well, I’m happy to say.
It’s on my Instagram sreetama_ray. It would be great to see a little encouragement so please say hi if you’re on Insta?
Unfortunately, not all of us can do what we love for a living. We still need jobs that pay the rent. But it’s a good idea to try to have that one thing that nourishes your soul. For me, art is a little oasis I retrear to when I am stressed. It’s an escape into a calm, happy place where I feel entirely at peace for a little while.
I have started a 100 days project over at my Instagram account Sreetama_ray ( you can see it on my side bar too! )
I have rather impractically decided to do a 100 wreaths – that’s one a day! You can also search for #100waysofwreaths
If you want to see how it’s going, say hi to me on insta!
I have only done 2 so far, and possibly a third tonight on day 3. Let’s see how this goes :)
In August 2014, I lost a dear friend to suicide. He seemed to have been doing well – handling his depression, making amends for past behaviors. But over the university break, he decided to end his life, reportedly over his long-term girlfriend leaving him. He was visiting his parents home in India and sometime around dawn one morning, he jumped from the 4th-floor terrace. It was over before they found him.
I took this quite hard – despite our many differences over the years, we had been friends since our teenage and I deeply cared for him. A week or so before this happened, he had called to get me to “forgive” him for his selfish behavior in the past ( we were not talking at this point). And I did.
Many people thought of him as brilliant, some thought he was eccentric and yet others felt that he was just another arrogant asshole. But he used to tell me things, allowing me a little peep into his life – both past and present.
I believe the whole problem in his drug-addled, mad, pretentious and brilliant mind, actually came from a deep lack of self-esteem. The locus of his esteem was always external. He liked himself when people liked him. He liked himself if people saw that he was with the “right crowd”. He liked himself if a girl he liked, not only like him back but had a fan-like admiration for him.
I have noticed that whenever this is the case, people lose sight of who they really are. Every time they look at themselves or think about themselves, it is through the prism of other people’s opinion.
In life, all of us are bullied some time or another. Sometimes by our classmates, sometimes by a parent, sometimes a spouse, a boss, a friend. At times this on purpose, but there are also times when people do this unknowingly. It’s important to know that whatever or whoever may be taking away your humanity from you, can’t affect you so deeply if the locus of your self-esteem is internal – as it should be.
Self-esteem is not swayed by other people’s opinion of you. It’s not swayed by how poorly you did in a test or whether people are calling you ugly. It’s not broken by being jobless or buoyed by being successful – that’s confidence, not esteem. Because self-esteem is the mettle you’re made of. It’s your very fabric. Whenever you see or hear people trying to poke holes in it, I hope there’s someone in your life who tells you : Don’t see yourself through their eyes.
If I have perfected anything in life, it is the art of doing nothing for extended periods of time without the slightest guilt or urge to be productive. On a serious note, I really believe that we need to stop this glorification of busy (at least in the corporate world). It’s enough to be productive within the set number of working hours in a day. This madness is not helping anyone.
Before we moved to Singapore, we always had fresh seasonal flowers at home. Something about them really elevates my mood after a long day at work.
After we moved here, for the first few months I tried to keep this up. But fresh flowers in Singapore are hella expensive! They’re mostly hothouse type flowers, which aren’t particularly fragrant. Also, having been in a fridge for days before they actually hit the shops, they die rather quickly after you bring them home.
So, that’s something I miss, apart from having four seasons, winter clothes, and parties by the bonfire.
Once when I was running,
from all that haunted me;
to the dark I was succumbing –
to what hurt unbearably.
Searching for the one thing,
that would set my sad soul free.
In time I stumbled upon it,
an inner calm and peace;
and now I am beginning,
to see and to believe,
into who I am becoming –
and all I’ve yet to be.