Painting, my first best friend.
It held my hand when I had no one.
Mum says when I was a child, she had to trade mundane tasks with art time as bargain. When I was angry or happy, a blank sheet and and an array of bright colors made return to my reality. It connected me to my most authentic self...
When I used to rant about how I felt lost to my therapist as an adult, she asked me, “Venkat, when was the last time you painted?”
Art made me before I made art.
A painting I made of my Dad reading a business journal, circa 2003 when I was nine years old.