Lookback Sundays | Fall

Stories of October & November

One: Sand Neutrals

Two: Pieces

Three: Nature and pattern

Four: Hello November!

Five: The last colors of the season.

Six: Tea High

Seven: New Today

Eight: Festive brights

Nine: Pumpkin fever

Ten: Transformations

Lookback Sundays | Lemon and Mint

June-July Brights

One: Sunny Mornings
Two: Long Weekends
Three: Pastels

Four: Beachside

Five: Nostalgia

Six: Type Forms

Seven: Walpaper*
Eight: Mint Overdose
Nine: Corner Cafes
Ten: Veggie Lineup

Travel Tale | Personal Meditation

This film explains wanderlust for me.

The breathtaking nature, cultures, religions, colors, architectures and wonders, known and unknown, captured so beautifully - It flows.

I was introduced to this piece of art by a friend sometime back and it never left my mind. It never does once you have seen it. Hope you enjoy.

Lookback Sundays | Blush

Stories of May-Madness

One: Blossoms and bright blue skies
Two: Pretty tiled
Three: Summer drinks

Four: Tulip love

Five: Voodoo Donuts

Six: New doorways

Seven: Cinco De Mayo
Eight: The Great Gatsby
Nine: Only in San Francisco
Ten: Bay to Breakers

Lookback Sundays | Indigo

Stories of April

One: Home decor

Two: Glorious sunsets

Three: Blueberry morning

Four: Tiled

Five: Spring bloom

Six: Blue greens

Seven: Wanderlust

Eight: Seattle skyline

Nine: Last snow

Ten: Ocean & Indigos

Lookback Sundays | Monochrome

Stories of March

One: Time stamps 

Two: Looking through glass 

Three: Harmonizing with yourself

Four: Snowflake series 

Five: Chin up 

Six: Of all I love

Seven: Walk on 

Eight: Evolve 

Nine: From where I stand

Ten: Monochrome

Travel Tale | The Angry Earth

Photo Blog: Death valley National Park

As we drove through the endless roads, laid flat over the barren, rugged surface of earth.. through dramatic clouds and ever changing vast mountains, little did we know that this would be one the most unforgettable road trip of a lifetime. Tomesha - A journey through the ground afire.

Much has already been told about America's hottest, lowest and perhaps the strangest place, the desert - where dust can turn a day into twilight, and rocks move unseen across the landscape. We were out to experience it, all for ourselves. 

By the time we entered the gates of the National Park, the topography had changed. It was hard to keep to the trails. The winding roads much steeper and difficult now, to drive on. Grabbing a map from the vistor center, we started our journey for the highest point of the valley - Dante's View.

My heart was drumming against my chest. The silence unbearable. I could have never imagined that such a vast stretch of barren - nothingness could look so breathtaking. Serene was an understatement here. All I could feel was the whistling of winds, as it crashed against the far away mountains and came hurdling back. As I looked down into the valley, 282 feet below sea level, the Badwater Basin, I could see meandering streams of salt water flats, now dried and shimmering in the sun. The sheer wonder of nature and geological significance of the landscape sent chills down my spine. 

The wind did too.

The wilderness of this land, runs in extreme contrasts. From the bone-dry badlands of the Devils golf course to the twisted and eroded ranges of Zabriskie Point. The unbelievable vastness of the Ubehebe craters, its depth and its surreal outstretch. We scored it all. We drove a mile into the mud, unpaved road creating storms of dirt and spurring stones, to reach the natural arches. We walked on, as the huge Mosaic canyons attempted to engulf us. Our car rumbled on, into this wide open space, as one of the oldest cities of Rhyolite, now in ruins began to emerge out of this brutally beautiful wasteland. The forgotten tales of Goldrush felt like a mirage set amongst the desert haze. A land of eerie, a land now taken over by nature, sprawled Joshua trees and an uncanny silence.

"Can you picture what will be, so limitless and free, desperately in need of some strangers hand. In a desperate land"  - The doors

Yes, "This is the end, beautiful friend" We moved towards the setting sun, the sky now blazing with color. Our last destination, barely visible through windblown sand, the Panamint Range looming over the Mesquite Flat dunes. The moving sand here takes in everything without a word.

Death Valley never leaves you.

Once you have heard the howling wind, laid footprints on the warm sand, wandered aimless in the ruins of ghost towns, caught a flaming red sunset and let the moon follow you home, you just want to go back and do it all over again.

Not another love story

Letting go.

The wooden bench was moist from the early morning showers. She sat, watching, as the sun came up over the ceaseless blue blue ocean. The depth of the waters - the calm of the waves, the peace.. the serene.. the light breeze playing with her curls.. setting of a perfect morning, but the void inside was deafening her. She could not decipher what exactly was it that she was feeling. Was it the loss? Remorse. Was it guilt? Did she feel responsible for letting him go? Yet, nothing mattered now.  Nothing she did now would get him back. Time has its own way of healing. She only hoped it would.

The moment: It was a usual day at work. Over a coffee break and some unrelated conversations, the news came up. It was an incident that happened over two years back. The resemblance, the details, the coincidence - all too overwhelming. It was disbelief at first, slowly turning into prayers. With the floor splitting beneath her, she reached the corner of the desk and sat down. Over hours, she scanned viscously through articles, accident reports, newspapers.. anything that could give her more details, something to confirm - confirm that it was just a story. 

August 12, 2008. Time had stopped. It was official. 

The Blackhole: The night was sleepless. Hysterical, she searched through all her belongings, desperate to hold on to the last link, conversations, photographs, letters, memories.. she had once so carefully removed. She chalked the timeline in her head, and there it was - she had absolutely nothing, that could take her back to him. His existence was a complete blackhole - a void, now all too real.

She always thought it was only mature, to move on.

The Drift: She held his hand. She didn't need to pretend. He was a good friend, he was too close. He had been there whenever she needed him and now she needed to be away. He understood. Staying close would only hurt him more. She owed him a lot. Most of all - the truth. She was not in love. They remembered their days together, the fun days, mad days, hectic days and the sad ones. They have always heard each other out, helped each other fight back up, when in doubt. "I'll find you a girlfriend" she promised. She didn't. And she never realized, when it was too late, when it got a little awkward to contact him after so many years. He must be having a great life, she believed.

That life had ended, and she never knew.