"The Beginning of Sin" painting by:Judithe Hernandez

Intense Pleasures

That your eyes will devour with its soft senses my melting emotions

In these mesmerising moments when your intimate glances soothe me

Your smooth velvet kisses (wrap me in this fantasy)

In moonlight nights when I have slept in your arms

While time has stood still

When my eyes have been filled with the tears

With tears of contentment and fulfilment

When our bodies entwined with feelings imbued in every vein

In my languorous nakedness, inebriated and seduced out of my senses

In raptures of love and moments of bliss

We exchange our passions

We travel in this realm of senses

Surge of sensations turn to burning flames

Drenched and smeared in each others comforts in each others skin

in and out, inside each other’s thoughts,

A moment is created.

There is an exchange of unspoken words of requited feelings

I am now engulfed in your arms

I am safe here nestled in your heart.

For your soul has touched mine.

_ My Soul on a Platter by Sreyashi Ghosh

The poem has been recently published by Writers Workshop, Kolkata, India. This painting was striking and since the writing expresses the thought in the painting really well I am using it. It is almost as if Adam and Eve were created this way. I believe none of my poems are ever completed, I always think I can keep adding to my own thoughts or alternating them. In this case I am using Judithe Hernández’s  “The Beginning of Sin” part of her Adam and Eve Series. With these vibrant colours used by the painter, I think it will be a perfect start to my concept of “Words and Colours”.

photographer:Kaustav Ghose

For example as for this photograph, it was inspired by Omar Khayyam’s “Rubaiyat” these famous lines:

Here with a Loaf of Bread beneath the Bough,

A Flask of Wine, a Book of Verse—and Thou

Beside me singing in the Wilderness—

And Wilderness is Paradise now.” As translated by Edward Fitzgerald

The photograph owes its inspiration to a poem.

As Aristotle said, “Art is an imitation of reality”, indeed it is true. Artists do draw inspiration from other artists and here I draw inspiration from the world around me and I am inspired from everyday life. I am inspired by the beauty around me, the blue sky, the shimmering waters, the daily monotony of everyday existence does not get to you, if you perceive in art in everything. For example, when we read a novel, or a poem, or read an article we feel something is unbelievable, unattainable or maybe to unromantic or sordid. Though it may be a figment of someone’s imagine, nonetheless it had it’s birth in reality, so the imagination is born out of the stimulus of something real.

Pen and Ink:Sreyashi Ghosh

C’est la Vie and C’est ma Vie are two expressions in the French language. The line drawing is inspired from the thoughts” C’est ma vie” which means “It’s my life” and “C’est la Vie” which means “that’s life”. I thought both those expressions sums it up for me. Then I used some words as a word puzzle to highlight the surreal expressions. It’s my life and I will lead it the way I want to, on my own terms and conditions, are thoughts that always forms the core of any artist. The two thoughts are complimenting each other, in a way when we think it is our life and we make choices we should be able to take responsibility for the choices we make, so when things don’t work out for us, we take life in our stride and say “Well, that’s life”. So, I would say when things go wrong or we are faced with rejection and instead of feeling defeated, we should get up, shake off the fears of rejection, get up and get on with life, our lives. Again, my concept of “Words and Colours” have been highlighted here, as black and white are also colours and through  a maze of words I express my thoughts through this Pen and Ink composition.

As far as any of the artistic creations are concerned, in my opinion never is any piece of poem,art,literature,story always complete in itself. Just like when you see any painting over and over again and it means something different to you everytime, there will be some different interpretations for the same things. Similarly a poem is never complete, there is always room for more, always more thoughts can be added. So, I think I can always keep adding line to my poems or adding something or the other to my paintings, “finishing touches”. They are never complete, there is always more that can be added. Hence, I think I am using my paintings to express thoughts that remained unsaid in the poems and words where the thoughts were not complete in the paintings. “Words and Colours” is a concept, I could go on and on about, I believe in it and I constantly poeticize, romanticize and theorize about art and poetry, especially my own creations.

"Rags Over Red": by Adalardo Nunciato Santiago

In this piece “Rags Over Red”, I found I was being drawn to it and those red blotches left an indelible impact on me complimented with images of a rag, tattered and frayed,almost an allegory on human existence. I was inspired by Adalardo Nunciato Santiago’s painting to write a poem dedicated to it, as follows:

Rags over Red

My heart bleeds
I’ve lost the love of my life
I let go
those ragged edges cut me
they tear into my soul

My jaded heart compliments my jagged existence
Those grey patches cannot make up for the lost colour
Those pains you give me can never be filled
Memories of the past blurred
Your loss can never be measured

I am torn asunder
I’ve lost you
I bleed
I suffer in pain
I love you
I love you in a strange way
It is surreal,
I know this is futile
And I am doomed to love you
This perverse fate condemns me to live without you

My love will now be incomplete forever

This love I found in you, is lost forever
Those empty walls now echo in its empty silences
This big void will never be fulfilled
Those jagged remains tear me from my love
Those wounds you have given me ,are sore
They grow deeper
Those pains are fresh
Those moments we shared now linger on
Those thoughts sting me, they haunt me like ghosts
They pierce through my existence
Shattered in scatters are the vulnerable membranes of my heart
My veins run dry
The very sap of my life is ebbing
My soul is tattered
My thoughts turn to rags
My emotions are entangled
And my feelings thwarted and mangled in unborn ties
The discrepancies of my heart and mind now grow stronger
The differences become larger
I can’t forget you
I never will
You have touched my soul
And my feelings that were once precious to you
Are now gone
They turn to dust
I am nothing to you
I cease to exist in your heart’s memory.

Those streets we walked on together,
Will remain lone and dull
There seems to be clouds hanging
An overcast nagging lull
Those broken threads, those unspoken words
All but bring me back to you
Yet those empty moments drown in their own emptiness
Those untold stories
Those unheard excuses
Those unsaid will be unsaid forever
Those dark shadows of the past haunt me and shall haunt me forever.

Your thoughts devour me,
they engulf me in pain.

I am beaten,
I am tired and exhausted.
But I will always love you
With everything that remains
My spirits are tainted
My soul is fragile
In those fragments, I miss you

I want you, I want to take care of you
I want to keep those thoughts alive
Keep me inside
I know I will never have you again

My frayed and tattered existence turns into a rag
Those pieces are now covered in my blood

I am drenched in thoughts of you
Now that I bleed
My tattered existence
Patched up in rags
To cover those wounds you give me.

Again, “Words and Colours” this is a perfect example to show how words are inspired from colours and this vivid imagery of rags expresses how we feel when we have been hurt or lost a love in our lives.

"Sunday Pray" by:Adalardo Nunciato Santiago

Again inspired by another painting by the same painter, I composed another poem:

“Sunday Pray” Santiago

To you they may look like a group of people going to pray

To me they are all ambassadors of peace

Who are walking the earth and have come here to stay

They are all agents of change

I know it seems strange

They are all going to work

Work towards a purpose,

A direction, a common goal

They are not holy men

They are serene and to them

“Work is workship”

That is how they pray

Let us not talk about religion

About division, about boundaries

For the spirit is infinite

We are bound to the greater good of humanity

These men pursue that greater divine good

They are discussing our destinies

As we pray

As you pray

As I pray

The differences have beautifully merged

Now they are in harmony

For we are all the children of that one world

And creations of that supreme power

So, we bow to our creator

And hail to the power of existence and being!

Penk and Ink: Sreyashi Ghosh

Here, I have used the french word “Incroyable” which means amazing or incredible to highlight the concept of Words and how word play is important in art. In this entire chain of thoughts I am explaining how whatever be the medium it expresses similar thoughts.

When it comes to better explaining the concept of “Words and Colours” Ekphrasis is the word that comes to mind. The etymology of the word “ekphrasis” has its Greek origins  ‘ek’ means ‘out’ and ‘phrasis’ means ‘speak’, hence in this case when I describe one piece of artwork, a poem is used to accentuate the thoughts in the painting. As Aristotle said “Art is an imitation of reality”, I find that is very true, artists can gain inspiration from what they see around them..For example in this series I have gained inspiration from other mediums of art, like a photograph, a painting, a song, some musical instruments, sculpture. Artists influence one another. Usually every idea has a story and one idea takes over the other and has a life of its own. The way one art form presents itself can merge into another. That is the beauty of art, where thoughts and emotions flow from one medium to another. Thus art is not restricted to one medium, but one medium owes itself to another medium. For example when we go into the psyche of an artist we can see a reflection of his/her personality on what is created. All, I am saying is one art work is created not by destroying another art work, but by drawing from it, by adding to it. Here, I reiterate a multidisciplinary approach and that is what ‘ekphrasis’ explains better the idea of rhetorics in art. ‘Words and Colours’ are inspired from each other, connecting poems to musical pieces, paintings,photographs,sculptures,drawings and vice versa.  

This is the beginning of the concept of “Words and Colours“. On World poetry day,21st March, I am delighted to introduce this concept and I am hoping to also “Through expressions” which will be a series of my poems in collaboration with other photographers express myself as an artist,poet,painter,writer.

Again the painter and poet in me both speak at the same time:

BLACK ROSE PHOTO:DAVID LAWSON

BLACK ROSE

Those laces that leave behind the traces of those dark days

Those days when you and I were together

You are death, now you are my death

You are a black rose

You may mean so many things to so many people

But to me you are death

You are full of mysteries

And as you cast shadows

You create a world of mystery

Which unveils itself ,bit by bit

In this fantasy of life,

You are my death

You tell a story

But I detach those emotions

Those emotions, from my imagination

You have shared pasts of many lives

You walked this earth many times

You unburdened my heavy heart

You allayed many fears

But now you emerge as this impending doom

You are my black rose

You devour secrets

You suck out every sap of life

I am dancing the dry death of desire

Many monsoons have come and gone

You have left me standing here alone

All, forlorn

Black rose,

You tell me so many things

Yet many are unsaid thing

Of your poetic prose

Now they seem morose

And this chapter of our lives

We must close

Let bygones be bygones, I suppose

We are frozen in time now,

We standstill

in this dull moment

in this present moment

we have left behind many memories

Of our own free will

Those yesterdays haunt me

The future beckons me

I don’t want to look back

Those moments where you and I were together

Now turn white and black

Those ill fitted gaps somewhere form sepia images

I often wonder why you made those false promises.

Why some of so many desires remain untouched?

Those long forgotten pasts are now long overdue

Your and my love now backdated

Our histories torn apart, separated

But the remains I keep,

With them under my pillow I sleep!

These lines have been inspired from David Lawson’s black and white photograph:

Dreams Traders

Let us trade dreams

You give me one dream

I will give you another

You trust me and confide in me your inner thoughts

But I am weary, as the world is wrought with distrust

In the hope of celestial light

Let’s tear out strands of light from the moon

The moonbeams shed their light

Where we sell our souls everyday in this marketplace, we call life

Here dreams are sold

Here everything is for sale

Here, in this marketplace, emotions are bought and dreams sold

This I have often been told

Where passions are marred,

Hopes scarred

Grinding under the dead of habit

Crushed, pressed, pushed into a quagmire

This is business where we give up our intimate desire for some concrete profit

Where we give up that we held dear to us,

We become machines, soulless creatures of flesh and blood

Manipulated by wants and desires, seduced by vices

We are being chained by many ‘isms’

We have a hyphenated existence

We are free to speak, yet impugned for saying too much

How do we know our limits?

As if we have eyes, yet have no vision

As if even if we have limbs we are invalid

Those immobile hopes crashed those dead desires that were once lost

But the embers are still burning strong

Those dreams not lost

This marketplace has not been able to distinguish those embers

The marketplace is inept to put a price on those dreams.

Those dreams are priceless.

Borne out of tears, blood and sweat

My dreams from the drudgery of this everyday existence

(These) thoughts that take flight

That releases me and now has become my religion

My life, my beliefs are those dreams.

Those dreams are not for sale

My soul is not for sale

My love is not for sale

I am not for sale to a trader of dreams

Sreyashi Ghosh (C) 2011

Flamenco dancers in a swirl. Photo:Kaustav Ghose

Flamenco has a rhythm,just like the rhythm of life. In many ways the “taal” was same as that used in our Indian Classical Music as well, much like the beats to Kathak. The pirouettes and some of the bold movements were very alike. We enjoyed the best Flamenco, at Ana Maria, in the old town of the Santo Cristo Plaza. Walking down the cobbled streets of Marbella has a charm of its own. This could be one of the main attractions while you spend a week at the Costa del Sol.

couple in red haze. Photo:Kaustav Ghose

In the mystic haze that binds you and me.

This red swirl turns me to dust.

These moments of lust last ,while you dance with me.

Inebriated by the madness of beats

transformed into an enchanted melody

I reel in this kingdom of hedonism

I am drawn by the passions of the night

They lure me to you

Seduced by words,

in this empty world of euphemisms

bathed in a realm of senses

doused in red fiery

I feel the flamenco

I feel the music

I feel the beat.

Those moorish souls of the past beckon me

They take me to an exotic world of dreams

intoxicated by those throbbing sensations

those palpable moments of peace

that is when I met with my music

and was one with the music of my soul.

Sreyashi Ghosh (C) 2011.

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