The refresh button....

Yesterday I had a talk with the students and the artists in residence of the Collective Studio about the ideas of remembrance, and the role that this should play within our personal lives. Why it is essential to hold memories, and to acknowledge to oneself what has offered us opportunities without which our journeys may well have been very different. Why it is the smallest gestures that often hold the most poignant of memories. And above all why faith, hope and optimism need to guide our spirit of endeavor.

I heard a dancer recently being advised to not dance the steps, but the intention. I completely identify with this. The essential truth of understanding how to find greater meaning lies in keeping our actions from become mere rituals of obligation. Mediocrity has become a tag attached to far too many aspects of endeavor, and because our own mediocrity is visible in the indifference of our deeds, we therefore ignore the mediocrity of others. And so the cycle of perpetuation continues unbroken.

In remembrance we bring to the forefront of our conscience what illuminates our spirit, and how and where we can take the light of our knowledge forward. For an internal world of life and light to exist, an outer world of recognition must be determined. These two forces hold the energies of our life in its best balance.

Memories are the tapestry from which we discover the personalities that shape us and the politics that guide us. Memories become the sheath that holds the weapons of our courage and valor; the shield that protects and shelters. Memories become the continuum of our legacy after we die. Each day in my studio, or in other private moments of my day, I gather to my mind some memories (stray or provoked by situations or circumstances) to hold and re-examine. In doing so I believe I hold my consciousness with greater meaning.

Mea culpa....!

Ethics is an important issue to address in life, and one where ones conscience perhaps plays a greater role than we chose to imagine. Within the instructions at the Collective Studio I lay great emphasis on this factor because I think it determines the quality of the character of a person. The lines of ethical behaviour blur, especially in a society as corrupt as ours, and an avoidance of honouring what is right gets excused within the mediocrity of compromised standards.

Without the trappings of religion to instill the fear of higher powers sitting in attendance to judge my life and actions (!), I keep a stringent eye on myself to catch those occasions when we dishonour the guidelines of our own personal philosophy/ies. The making of art becomes a space of creation that takes one deep into the well of the inner self, and there is a nakedness in this space that is both raw and vivid; and which hides nothing. It is in this space of transparency with myself, that I hold the truth of confronting who I am, and who I chose to be.

Human beings hold the ugly potential of being sycophantic in nature.  We need to rid ourselves of this malaise and instead dig deep for more real perceptions of ourselves, and the world. As issues of rape and murder fill the Indian news and food rots as millions starve in our nation;  politicians and god-people attempt to score political mileage from the tragedy of others with blatant openness. I wonder whether soon dictionaries will make  ethics an obsolete word within language because we find no use for it in our lives these days.

Oh joyous day!

As I sit on the verandah with my mother listening to Hello Dolly sung by Bobby Darrin with Mithun and Samera visiting for the weekend, life holds a sense of simple peace that I personally choose to frame our lives with. Between the magical world of imaginative wanderings in my studio to the orchestration of other energies, tiny interludes such as these become precious.

The Collective Studio that began without great planning today is a space that holds so many discoveries, and each day more than anything, the delight of surprises that can inspire and humble. I have just come from there and carry with me the reaffirmation that risks are worth taking, because the pure joy of seeing the clarity of purpose take shape in the lives of others, is what makes the many hours of hard work invested, become meaningful.

The Collective Studio house project is at it's final stages. The studio house gives a face to the ideas of collective living and engagement. It also falls into the any stories that many Indian children share, of parents who are unable to comprehend the truth of what the journey of being an artist entails; and the support and encouragement it requires for success to occur.

Over the years people have often been puzzled by my choice
to live as an artist in Baroda. The answer is very simple. Baroda allows me to live my dreams by holding me close enough to the centres of connection I need to be associated with professionally, as well as allows me to be contained in a manageable environment where my energies are not frittered away in the exhaustion of daily survival.

I call all this the Rekha Rodwittiya lucky factor!


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The tick-tock story....

I read a father's day interview with President Barack Obama in which there were two points he made about good parenting that correlated to the philosophy I personally am guided by. He said that the time we spend away from our children because of our jobs, becomes of value, by what we do with that time; and within the relationship that we share with them, they must know that we are there for them to listen and to be available for all their emotional needs, with unconditional love.

I have made this my mantra and find that time has it's own way of stretching itself to help you "tuck" into it many things within a day. Like a computer program organiser, the brain has many "folders" that allow for neat separation and good management. So the eternal excuse of no time being the reason that children are left without the spiritual guidance and emotional anchorage that they require is hog wash in my opinion. My simple rule to myself is find the time!

Yesterday my adopted granddaughter underwent certain medical investigative procedures precipitated by a sudden health crisis. Before the procedures began, I spoke with her and suggested that she mentally offered all that her day would unfold for the millions of children in the world who did not have the privilege of health care and hospital aided medical care. Instantly Aditi's energies transformed, and she determined her will to guide her responses with greater wisdom.

As I go from the hospital- to the printers -to our home- to my studio -to the needs of the collective studio- to my involvement with Mithun- to being a care giver to my mother; each of these spaces require a management that is very do-able if you define a discipline and structure that holds consistency.

I have been working within a frantic schedule over the last two months which has had me burn the mid-night oil way beyond what is healthy or wise; yet what it has allowed is for me to keep abreast of all the "folder" management in my life and not get swamped by deadline that collide with unforeseen situations that crop up and need immediate attention.

My friend, who facilitated me on a recent work project, embraced me with the gift of his time, that did not come without the price of sacrifice for him. Juggling and altering his own packed schedule, he came not once, not twice, but three times within the space of two months to assist me; and not once did he ever indicate just how much extra work would have to be done by him to cope with his own deadlines.

It is when the desire to do is there, that all becomes possible. This I firmly believe in.





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*About growing wings....

I read an interesting article written in the newspaper by Chetan Bhagat about missed opportunities, and how leadership requires a moderated rationality to maximise the purposefulness of intention. Otherwise one merely stands the possibility of squandering the chances that one has strived to realise for oneself, that can produce desired results. I cannot agree with him more.

In the everyday engagement I have within the Collective Studio, where discourse and teaching, living and sharing, interdependency and freedom are some of the integral components that formulate the philosophy of this alternative studio; the touchstone is to always find the essential truth to what we do, and to "wrap it" around the purpose that holds reason and meaning so that we do not loose ourselves in the aimlessness of hollow rhetoric and posturing.

The dangers of becoming too obsessed with something can be counter productive and loose significance, if it is not contextualised within frameworks of rational perception. When negotiation presents itself, it is an option worth attempting. The world co-exists within a playpen of diverse interests; in which everyone stakes their claim. Living life on ones' own terms requires that nuanced understanding of how to balance reality and idealism, without either one becoming a casualty in the process.

We often misunderstand the concept of leadership to equate as meaning only about leading others. For me it is really about "leading" myself - my heart, my mind, my conscience. To negotiate each day with the dreamed of and the reality of circumstance; and then to find the best current within my own energies to propel me to where I know I need to be, becomes the constant effort.

"If you bring forth what is within you, what is within you
will save you. If you do not bring forth what is within you,
what is within you will destroy you."
- Jesus,
The gnostic gospels
Elaine Pagels, ed.
From the book titled - In Search of Our Mothers' Gardens by Alice Walker

*About growing wings is a title of a lithograph by Surendran Nair.


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The shame of ranking number 4 in the world!

As Indians we are always desiring to hold a world ranking for something,........anything! Well let's take out the band-baja, and burst the firecrackers as well; because we have finally made it into that haloed status of being ranked right up on the top for something! We are ranked as being the fourth most dangerous country for women! Wow! what a proud day this must be for our nation!

With one atrocity after another being committed on women everyday......kidnaping, rape, acid attacks, burning, hanging, murder, abuse,......news item after news item is filled with one more gruesome tale than the other. Foreign women are often the victims of cruel acts of sexual perversion on their visits to our country as tourists, merely because the fantasies of the deviant Indian male mind are aroused by the notions of assumed cliches about the promiscuity of western women.

I have had my fair share of humiliating experiences that range from breast grabbing to being flashed at on my own door step because I was a single woman living alone with my son; and being groped when in crowded places and a thousand eyes look away. The other common abuse that is so rampant are the "stories" and rumours that are floated as smear campaigns against women. The assault upon the reputation of a women is always by attacking her imagined sexual conduct, and deeming her immoral by sullying her character. This is an age old tactic and in practice till today and unfortunately also perpetuated by those where education should have taught them otherwise.

With female infanticide clogging our sewages from the remote villages to global urban cities, do we wonder why we have this dubious honour of being ranked the fourth most dangerous country for women?

But nothing really shames us. We will shout from the roof tops about our cultural heritage, and how we honour the goddess Shakti. But the truth of the matter lies in those charred bodies of burnt brides, and female foetuses which putrefy the air with it's rotting stench. These are our proud moments. This is our rich Indian cultural heritage, and the manner in which we honour our women. I don't know about you, but I have to hang my head in shame today for the reputation that my country has earned for itself. As an Indian woman I believe I deserve something much better than this.



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An old friend .....

For years I have listened to the music of Joan Baez. I can't even remember when the first occasion was where this lady with Spanish boots came into my life; but what I do know is that for me it feels like she was singing to me even when she was in her mother's womb.

She has accompanied me on all my travels; not always just by the physicality of her music but in the DNA we both share through the politics of our beliefs and in the imagination that takes shape from the lyrics that her lilting voice gifts me. A sister, she has been with me when thunder clouds sit dark in my mind or when the towering mountains of Bhutan have held my breath with it's magnificence....she stays close with me.....always.

Thank you dear friend. I still sit in the shadow of your voice and know I will grow old listening to the stories of your heart.



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