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Phenomenon of Learning


by KUSHALA VORA






Tips upon grains

Pigments of land in my hand

Eyes upon green

Rub mimic

Rub rubbing rubbed


Soles upon grains

Lifting up and pressing down

P R E S S U R E

t e n s i o n

r e s o l v e

a g a i n s t   m a t t e r

one two one


I see - I see the softness of the wind

I feel - I feel the air in me

I touch - another

me


I picked a flower on my walk.

I see you - I see me - I see we

How?


The seasons are changing

One flower signals the beginning, another -  the end.

Tips on grain

Pigment on grain.

My fingers, My feet, The pencil.


Hold it! - that thought. Strip it of its origin. What is it?

Does it exist beyond context? Does it feel personal? Does it feel inconsequential?

Pull it out further.

Further 

Through the nerves, out the tips of your fingers.

the tips of your instrument

The tips of your soul.

The tips of your sole.

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melt






The unpredictability of the global pandemic brought me home to Panchgani, a small town in the Western Ghats of India. Panchgani and the surrounding mountains are home to multiple endemic species. With nowhere else to go, my days began with a walk in my neighbourhood mountain trail. With each walk, I started to mark time with the changing landscape. Every other marker receded into the background. I collected photographs and samples of plants. There were so many plants that I hadn't noticed before. There were some I had noticed but didn’t know the names of. There were many I knew the names of but didn’t really understand.

I would open my box of color pencils, identify a moment that seemed so true and would go from there. 

I did feel a sense of discomfort in drawing flowers. Questions such as, “Would I be perceived as a hobbyist?”, “ Would people take me seriously?”, “This is way to feminine?” would appear in my mind. These thoughts astonished me, leading to resistance and persistence.  With each walk, photograph and drawing, I would seek to see things as they are rather than what I would like it to be.