dans la solitude de la mort

For a few more

A Layman's Effort : Remembrance

When the spring comes, grass grows by itself.

Colors of Phoenix : Tushar Waghela Strikes Again

In the month of monsoon when whole existence gets filled with the music of rain-drops, in a quite corner of his house an unknown mystical artist was busy with his colors & brushes. Tushar Waghela, one of the closest friend of mine, has revivified himself from the scars of sunburn which deliberately put all of us into unknown but painful dreaminess. His vibrant work, this time has appeared as a "Rainmaker", somehow autobiographically. Whats more important ? The art or the artist ? I say, when the artist itself becomes the art.

The colors of phoenix : -



( The Alchemist)




( The song of rainmaker)




( The Dream seller )




( The philosopher )

I often find a clumsy similarity in his work & me. If in some other life, which I trust I am not going to be born again, I happen to be an artist, I would definitely paint in the manner that he does. Its the song of rainmaker, listen closely.