Um, somebody call the psychiatrist. Now!

So they say that art is supposed to be soothing and therapeutic, and I’m inclined to agree with them based on the fact that I’ve never heard of anyone getting crazy/stressed over a picture. Apart from Van Gogh, but I think it’s safe to say that there were MAJOR extenuating circumstances in that situation. Since I don’t feel depressed and, to my knowledge, have never shown any tendencies towards severing my own body parts (eww and ow!) or committing suicide, I thought that drawing a picture would be a pretty safe pastime for me. Let me just take a second to say I really didn’t know a person could be so wrong, especially me; anyone who knows me knows that I am always right. Ok, maybe not always, but anyone is not here right now to defend themselves and I plan to take full advantage of that fact.

While sitting in a very educational (read: boring as...well, something really boring) lecture I decided to draw a picture in my note book. Please don’t judge me too harshly, the lecture is 3 hours long and I had reached the point where I had precisely two options. They were as follows: lean on Kathleen or Emily’s shoulder and pray to God I didn’t drool all over them, or draw a picture to distract myself from sleep. I chose the latter as I thought it would be more inconspicuous in a brightly lit lecture hall. So I decided to draw a picture of all the things that float around in my head on a general day-to-day basis. The idea being that if I drew them all down, maybe I’d make room in my head for things I actually need, like somatosensory something or others. After all, if I was doing a zoology degree I may find a clever way to justify spending an inordinate amount of time thinking about ducks in clothes and shoes. If you’ve read Emily’s previous posts you will understand what I am referring to; if you haven’t, then you are probably experiencing the same sort of confusion that I have on an extraordinarily regular basis, usually daily or even hourly. It doesn’t feel nice, does it?

As I was drawing my picture I didn’t put much thought into it, as my brain had pretty much leaked out of my ears by this time; I simply let my pen do what it wanted. When the lecture finished and my creative juices had run out, I looked down at my page and two thoughts struck me simultaneously: ‘this is madness, maybe I am crazy’ and somewhat more frightening ‘this is great! I know I can make it even better!’ When I got home, I copied what was in my notebook into Paint and embellished it until I came up with the final product that you now see before you. I have always suspected that I may not be entirely...normal? Sane? Not the same as all the other kids, maybe; however, when I look at this picture, I fully accept that I need professional help. It can’t be normal to have a brain that is full, completely full, of rubbish. And it’s not even normal rubbish like shopping and food and sleep. Not that any of that stuff is rubbish, but if it’s taking up valuable space then it’s definitely unwanted. Instead, my brain is full of Patrick Starfish, trees with names and suns who wear shoes.

One thing I can say in my defence though, is that I am not alone in my madness. As the late, great Disney character Pocahontas sang “I know every rock and tree and creature, has a life, has a spirit, has a name.” Smart lady. She also thought that sweet corn was gold, so you may be inclined to disagree with me if I’m using her as my evidence. In these dire economic times though, where people have no money and millions of people can’t afford to eat, maybe food IS gold, or worth even more than gold. Think about that if you will. Also, before anyone starts having a go at me I do realise that YES there was a real person called Pocahontas, and NO she probably wouldn’t have said any of those things, but hey, I like Disney. So sue me.

So all in all, I hope you like my creative genius, as... unique as it is. Maybe it will be worth something one day, long after I’ve hopefully grown out of my avian obsession. All I can say is that for now, it’s my pride and joy and I consider it art, and thankfully art, like beauty, is in the eye of the beholder. The world would be a very boring place otherwise. Maybe I should stay away from any more art projects in the near future though, because I really don’t want anyone thinking that I’m crazier than I really am; the reality is bad enough, and I’d quite like to stay out of that straightjacket and asylum, thank you very much.


“I put my heart and my soul into my work, and have lost my mind in the process.”- Vincent Van Gogh


Some notes:
1. Ok so I don’t know who ‘them’ actually are, and probably never will, but if they said it, then it must be true, right?

2. Confusion is really not my fault; it’s just that half the time I have my head in the clouds (dreaming of ducks and other nonsense) and the times when I’m actually in reality, I have such a bad memory that I barely remember what I ate for lunch, let alone something we were discussing last week.



Love, Lalita xxx