art, sketchbook

The slow art of bookmaking

If you’re so inclined, here’s a review of Zones of Privacy by Alisha Sett that appeared in the Hindu the other day.

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Photo from The Hindu

Here’s what she writes about my books (from 2003, 2009 and 2016):

A contrasting experience of honesty can be found in the ironic tone and self-reflexive journals of Sunandini Basu piled up on the centre table of the exhibition. An animation designer for 15 years, she had to sift through 96 journals to make her selection for the show. For Basu, journaling is a process of making life. She shared with us that through these “letters for her future self” she “often remember(s) forgotten wishes and goals or events” that shaped her. It’s delightful to stroll through the worries and victories of her daily life. One can trace the arc of the conversation the young designer has had with herself over the years and feel like a confidential encounter has taken place.

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Life_june

Life, sketchbook

Life a dull dream past

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Life, sketchbook, travels

5 days in California

Inspired by my ten years of inktales, I decided to religiously draw every day. Here are some drawings from a trip I took last week, flying from New Delhi to San Fransisco for work.

I took an Air India flight for the first time, and it wasn’t impressive. However my travel companions were really interesting to draw.

At the immigration counter in San Fransisco, my employer and the software that I work on, always turn out to be magic names, no credit to me:-)

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And the most surprising of all, the driver of the shuttle that I took from the airport was a native Aramaic speaker.  It sounded like a beautiful language.

I was lucky enough to meet my friend Lekha – our trips overlapped by a few hours. By the fountains we caught up with our lives. Thank you America.

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Life, sketchbook

Tomorrow is our permanent address

While going through my archives, I found these pages from a 2004 journal. The brown boy and I had just gotten married, and I was resisting all the extended family’s combined pressure on me to start propagating the species.

In this angry book it seems that while I did not want to have a baby, I knew all about the details of bearing one. What a know-it-all I was.

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