Being the last two months at home, I voluntarily confined myself to studying its every corner. All the patterns, materials, shapes, colours, shadows, dark corners, stains, dust, tear and wear speak to me in a high-pitched voice. I notice everything. Every minor change occurring every day as time curbs its speed. I become more focused. I am restricted in my movements outside the house. Inside, it seems like everyone and everything grasps for more space. I don’t know how to meditate, but I am quite profound in daydreaming. The eye rests at the sheer fabric of my curtains throughout the house. I see them when I wake up in my bedroom, when I cook, eat and wash dishes in the kitchen when I work in my studio. Their fabric is so malleable. I admire their fluidity. The light shining through them while casting shadows, the wind pushing them in a whimsical dance, draping them is free-form shapes and pleating in some orchestrated chaos.
My Curtains
