22 October 2006:

I've been travelling for over six months now and I have yet to enter anything into this promising section of my website. So, here we are, safely nestled in the comfort of a bright blue bug net, listening to yesterday's firecrackers (which sound remarkably quiet after last night), and beginning this travelog. Life in Delhi continues to be unpredictable and challenging, and I am just realizing that this is manifesting itself quite obviously in my current scattered art projects. Bits and pieces of identity and existence floating around, clustering together, yet never committing to one concrete image or definition. And, in the fashion of my recent work, I'm guessing that this log

the view from our balcony

will be rather rambling and scattered as well... here is a picture of the view from our balcony...piles of terra cotta diyas (sp?) on the roofs, and lots of Diwali-related activity on the streets. We spent Diwali with my relatives, the Maliks. The day was filled with small preparations, such as adorning the entranceway with flowers and footprints so that Laxmi, the Goddess of Wealth, could find her way. There seem to be many stories behind Diwali, but generally it seems that the celebration of this Festival of Lights is fairly similar to Christmas in the West, and centers around large quantities of sweets and quality time with loved ones. Apparently this was not always the case, but if you really want to know more about Diwali, you can check out the Wikipedia article which helped me figure the whole thing out. And while you're at it, perhaps you should take a dive into Hinduism, as I've found myself doing as of late.

Now its technically the 23rd of October...and I don't really have much to say on the topic of the date so lets move on quickly. Back to Diwali. Right when I thought Delhi couldn't fit in any more fuel for the senses, Diwali reared its beautiful head. Gorgeous garlands around every door and window, hilariously illustrated firecracker packaging, hundreds of different sweets, wrapping paper so shiny it almost hurts the eyes, brightly painted gods and goddesses, and countless candles in clay pots adorning every doorstep (doorsteps, of course, not literally being doorsteps, but any piece of earth that someone claims as their own - in a sense, the entrance to their domain, be it a broken down rickshaw or a westernly-landscaped front gate).