Times passed, ages gone, histories have been scripted with the tales of heroes unsung – THE HORSE
When the first gush of wind made man mad with rush he knew he was astride a horse plush.
When the first splash of water made man all slush he knew he was riding a horse plush.
My colours flow as my muse trots back in times, and together we trace the WINGED FOOTPRINTS of FLOWING EQUINES.
My inks become my wings, my paper my sky, my colours my saddle with my muse I blissfully fly.
My muse showed me how with sheer power of ‘Love & Care’ it built the empires and never knew fear. It showed me how with sheer ‘Passion & Loyalty’ it became the prized treasure of every royalty. As I saw the world with my muse’s eye, I kept scripting every word of what my muse whispered. It showed its joys for dandelions of springs and opened up its heart about all that’s only HUMAN and all that’s THE HORSE.
My CALLIGRAPHY & COLOURS go unbridled and I engrave on my paper the TROTTING TALES.
Trot! Trot! Trot! The Horse Galloped Tic! Tic !Toc!His Horseshoe Sings
Swish Goes The Wind On Meadows Green Tweets Of Joys His Canters Bring!
My Buddy of Years Yearns To Fly High
I Saddle Up To See The World With My Muse’s Eye.
Heights Conquered Knights Crowned, Depths Cantered Cavalries Undrown
Histories Written In Blue & Black, Tales Of Forgotten On The Horse’s Back
World Unbridled With HORSEPOWER, But Its His WISDOM That All Towers
Splashing The Seas Galloping The Heights, Wind In Sprints Without Wings It Fly
I Am Stunned To See The World With My Muse’s Eye
“Every child is an artist. The problem is how to remain ARTIST once you grow up”, said the legendary Pablo Picasso.
I am truly blessed that because of my muse by my side since childhood, I have been, I am and I remain – AN ARTIST
Visual Artist, Art Curator, Gallerist & Explorer of Life