Sunday 28th June 2018

by Siddharth Soni

A weak and flimsy crape canvas was clipped to the edges. Fluttering with the movement of the air inside the room, and making a pretext of singing a song with the whirring of the fan. An altruistic sound ‘pt-pt-pt’ followed and the edges of the crape paper struggled to escape the clutch of the whiteboard. With a little more effort, the feathery crape paper that had cost me a hundred bucks flew in the air, out of the window, and then gliding in the air outside – It landed on the street. Rejoicing in it’s freedom until a car rushed over it and it was slayed till death. Next time when the breeze blew, it did not fly but laid there gruesomely. There is no denying that quest for freedom is rewarding, but is also self-sacrificing. The crape paper for instance wanted to escape out in the free air, but had lapsed to demise.

There were two more crape papers folded and kept near the table, each one trying to unband itself and escape in the air. And this second time, I intentionally took one among those and left it in the air. The bottom of the canvas fondled over the window slab and then floated in the air. Within the next ten minutes, another car crushed it and its flight ended to demise. The same happened to the other two and the street below was pasted with crape-canvases. Few folks outside thought that I was being rude with crape canvases because my painting did not take its form, rather unknowing that there was an authentic experiment going on.

For the fourth time, as I took the canvas to give it that anticipated freedom, to glide in the air and never get crushed by the car, I was taken aback by what I saw. A thousand creases on the crape paper illustrated a tree, bowing down to the dark ground and investigating it like a dinosaur’s neck. Pale, dark, stormed with fear and exhibiting a dynamic pendulum-like, illusory movement of the branches. My heart exploded with feelings, all inspired and culminated. And I realized what the freedom really meant to the canvas. It was not that canvas that struggled to escape, but it was the tree that needed freedom. The tree that was, briefly destined to be there on the canvas. And I knew the only way to set the tree free from the canvas. I gave it colors, and carved it until I really saw the dynamic, leaping tree, with swaying branches and that stormy sky. The canvas talked, and it was the canvas that instructed me to make what I have made. I was a mediator, just as every artist is. A mediator between ‘Dream’ and ‘Reality.’

While art might seem difficult, for the extent of imagination, pre-planning and carefulness it requires, it is provable that art is attainable and requires only little skill for the one who has the will. For the rest, it is like staring at the blank canvas until droplets of blood form on the forehead. Remember that, even when you have drawn a painting of the tree that doesn’t look like a tree. It is an excellent chance that it may look like a cow, dog or an elephant to others. The only key is to “Keep Thinking.”

“Some painters transform the sun into a yellow spot, others
transform a yellow spot into the sun.”
paint_wc

Click to Enlarge

“The only object isn’t to make art, but it’s to be in that wonderful state
which makes art inevitable.”
Love,
Siddharth Soni

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4 Responses to “Freedom to the Canvas”

  1. John Yuen says:

    Hi Siddharth,

    It is good to see the presentation of your website, thanks for sharing. It is really very good. I am waiting for the next 1

  2. Prince says:

    Hello Siddharth,

    I am so interested to read your posts. This one gets my thumbs up. You write really decent poems abnd your poems are also very good.

  3. Felcon Roseburry says:

    Thanks for sharing. Your posts are so damn cool.

    I really liked the painting. The idea of crape crease was good

  4. John Cold says:

    Hey, you write professionally good literature. Hatts Off

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