Often during the work week I am terribly challenged finding a few minutes to draw, so you can imagine that on Friday evenings I have all these pent up drawings just struggling to be expressed.
But then of course there’s the household calling or your energy levels need bolstering…
But then, there’s always revival after the end – and I usually make a memento.
THURSDAY • 15th Aug holiday: Apart from mourning for democracy, spent grieving for my lost sense of humour and my declining sense of poetry. Which reminded me of what Lekha said once: “One day you’ll wake up and you won’t be able to recognize yourself…”. And how much of what is really worth it. “What is the price of your sense of self,” I ask the universe. “It’s a cup of coffee and a cookie,” says the brown boy.
This one is for Punam and Deepa.
inktales 