Thursday, January 25, 2007

The Spider

At the age of 11, I sat at a corner of my closet wall, hiding under my hanging clothes across a wall with a mirror in front of me. Through the empty spaces between my hanging clothes I could see a duplicate figure of my half body in the mirror. The only things I couldn’t see yet or feel were my warm tears running down my red and drowsy eyes. I had cried too long to even remember.

Earlier that day, I received an F on my English progress report. I couldn’t understand what I had done wrong. I was in an ESOL English class and I was getting all the attention needed from my teachers. In addition, being an ESOL student meant an easy A grade since the work burden was nothing compared to a regular English class. That day I felt like a “loser.” I didn’t blame myself for living in India for 11 years. Neither did I blame my parents for not being able to communicate with me in English every day. Instead, I blamed the cultural differences that took place between the two nations.

Being the new foreigners was not easy for my family. Finding jobs, paying all the bills, and trying to fit in a community that did things differently was the biggest challenge we faced. But the biggest challenge for me was being able to understand how the school system worked, why the homework and class work assignments were a big deal, and why I took the whole class period doing my class work while the other kids would be done with it in minutes.

I sat there in darkness while my tears stopped, dripping on my clothes and dried out on my checks. I sat there telling myself that I was stupid, dumb, and that maybe something was wrong with me. I sat there telling myself that I was a “loser” until I saw something from the corner of my eye. It was a spider on the sidewall trying to climb up and reach its web safely. It fell on its back in the first attempt but slowly jumped up on its feet for the second trial. It fell again and again but it didn’t stop trying. It finally made it home and brought a smile to my face.

Seven years have passed and I still sit on the same spot, hoping to encounter the spider that inspired me to face the failure within me and try to change myself instead of blaming the cultural differences that will always exist. It has helped me to convert a foreign language into a home language through reading and writing. Within the years, the spider has taught me that the first failure is the first step to success.

Tuesday, January 16, 2007

Monday, October 09, 2006

Thursday, October 05, 2006

Sunday, September 17, 2006

A Message to My Viewers
Hi viewers,
well so far you probably know my name and have some idea of what my interest areas are. I am an artist in my own little world. Many may not consider me as an artist, but I believe that to be an artist I don't need a degree in Fine Arts. I am not majoring in Fine Arts because I don't choose to earn fame. Art is a way for me to run away from my worries and stressful student life. Art is a way for me to earn peace and discover myself. Art is the only way for me to keep a balance in life. My art may be random, but it is precious to me. It is the soil in which I dwell and prosper everyday. Art is my language unspoken yet heard. Art is within me like my ISHWAR (God) is.
Thank you for visiting my page and understanding my art.
Keep visiting because art doesn't finish here.
Swati
Self-Portrait (photography/photo shop) Posted by Picasa

Sunday, September 10, 2006

Consider this Sexy (Photo) Posted by Picasa
Practice ( I painted this in my IB Art class, and never finished it...sometimes things don't need to be complete in order for it to be a work of art) Posted by Picasa

Friday, September 01, 2006

My Album

I came back from college and went straight in my parent's bedroom. On Ma's dressing table I saw my photo album. I picked it up with enthusiasm and jumped on my parent's bed and started looking through it. I flipped through the album pages noticing how organized it is. Starting from baby pictures and ending with my senior year pictures. As I turned the pages I saw my pictures coming to life. The turn of every page was refreshing my old memories. The chocolate cake that was put in my mouth on my birthday, the new dress I wore on diwali, and the facial expressions were captured while getting caught putting makeup on. All of it was there, there on just a piece of paper. I finally came to the last page and took a deep breath. I closed the album with in seconds realizing how fast the album came to an end. It felt like a chapter of my life just ended. I sat there with a closed album in my lap. But soon I turned it over and started again to refresh my memories and to start another chapter.