14 March 2015

Fading in, fading out || Finding Inspiration

Lovesicklilac, Rupsha B, finding inspiration Lovesicklilac

Photos by Pixie.
Words by Rupsha B
Edited by Namz
Jacket by XY.

"Spider threads caught at the tips of her fingers again, a sign that no pen or brush touched it for a long time and yet she covets to be inspired again".-From page 15 of my art journal. These episodes strike more often than necessary and even though you may think you have a way around it, you really don't. I won't call it the 'writer's block'. It's much more kindred to what you may call a 'creative rut'. I have sat down with sketchbooks, journals and notepads, only to stare at the blank pages with nothing but an empty mind. I have been to cafes, I've sat down on the seaside, tried to sleep it off in the comfort of my own crumpled bed-sheets. I've went so far as to push myself to create something, anything. I could always talk about unrequited love or degenerated love or love that burnt and wrecked.  I could write about unwell minds and unfair emotions. Those words have been written and repeated and this time I couldn't do it. It doesn't seem fair to give them all the place on my blog or on my art. Sometimes, during these 'episodes', I feel like someone has taken away that little part of my brain and heart which would otherwise never shut up, not even when it's three in the morning and my eyes burn and I just want to sleep. Like you have lost something so precious that you drive yourself mad by searching for it, only to return with an empty heart and a frustrated mind.

"What the fuck are you doing?", "I'm drawing"
"Are you sketching your subject you little shit?", "yes....I don't have a subject Harris"
"Why the heck not? George you're gonna have to start digging around in there, so you can develop that talent of yours, so you can start to use that brain of yours. to express that beautiful heart of yours. So figure out what you want to say and say it", "Harris, I don't have anything to say"
"Find something(!)" -The Art Of Getting By

On Wednesday, me and mum sat on the roof for afternoon tea. I said to her, "I just can't seem to fill it. I don't have any inspiration or subject to create anything. I haven''t drawn in three weeks, I haven't written since the last week of February. I feel like I'm going mad. I have done everything they suggested in those videos. I went to museums, art galleries, read books, watched movies, tried spending hours on 8tracks. I took road trips but I can't seem to get it back. The voice that's always inside my head. I couldn't sleep, mum. I can't bloody sleep!" 
I remember her replying, "You know people, who write for a living or makes movies or designs or people like you, people who are into creative direction and fashion. Even the best of them sometimes produce the most prosaic work. It's not possible for the mind to stay inspired every minute of the day, every day of the year. Maybe you can't really fight it but you can choose to create something. Maybe it won't be as good as your other works. Maybe it won't be good at all but you'll stay in touch with yourself. You'll find the broken pieces, you'll learn to weave it thread by thread, you'll pull yourself out of the rut and you'll breathe in the fresh air again." 
Maybe I found my way out.

21 February 2015

Pretty Stones | Lovesicklilac x Anjolee

Links for Ring 1 and Ring 2
Edit by Rupsha B
Words by Rupsha B

The only jewelry I am seen to be ever wearing is the gold band on my ring finger that I received as my 21st birthday present. Every now and then when I'm feeling fancy or when my mother wants to remind me that I do in fact love jewelry, we would take out this heart shaped porcelain box with vintage floral designs and gold paint splattered all over it and take a good and adoring look at my heart-shaped diamond rings(slow down tiger, too much hearts there for a person who scoffs at roses and other valentine's day cliches). Everyone has a side of them careful tucked away and hidden from the public eye. For me it's the One Direction fangirl in myself(well, that's not a secret anymore, I kind of wear it as my favourite scarf) and collecting diamond rings. I really like to indulge sometimes. Isn't there just something so precious about jewelries? The memories they have, the stories they convey.

I discovered Anjolee last month and after spending a good amount of time(let's just say an hour or two), I absolutely loved the designs. Who doesn't like to spend their time looking at beautiful designs; the piercing white shine of diamonds or snivel because everything is just so pretty? Anjolee, based in San Diego County, California founded in 1977 is the original manufacturer or all the jewelry design on their website such as the engagement rings in the picture above. It definitely was difficult to pick just two design since everything was pretty over there. Glad that Kelly helped me choose. All the pieces can be customized on Anjolee.com according to preference of metal type, diamond size, diamond/gemstone quality, and length/size. They also offer a great selection of gemstone jewelry with choice of several birthstones.  Take a look guys and let me know what you think?

11 February 2015

Hiking | Roads Less travelled | Tacenda

Lovesicklilac, hiking, Rupsha B
Flannel shirt-thrifted, Jeans are from Zara.
 Converse shoes, Aldo sunglasses
Pictures by me and freind
Words by me

I can't feel my hands and I lost my favourite pair of sunglasses. "In April, the leaves look like it has been dipped in red with a lot of care. You have to come back in April.", he said. A group of hikers passes us by. I turn towards him, "Autumn never seems to stop beguiling me, you know. Maybe it's the way the world prepares itself to let go. How they embrace the goodbyes. I read it somewhere but it was about winter.". Bandu drags the stick over the sand and pebbles, drawing his initial and then he smiles like he knew something uncommunicated about the trees or goodbyes. "The nature knows it better than us... the goodbyes....the letting go. Rue, you have to come back in April, the rhododendrons are in full bloom, something equally fascinating about new life, the start of something magical, the first hello." He lets out the smoke and drags another puff, "you want one? I saw you smoking behind the cottage last night, you came back and sat in front of the bonfire. You looked like you were thinking of someone." I tug on my beanie and wrap the coat tighter around me. Three layers of wolle and absolutely nothing to fight away the shiver running down the left side of my spine. I can't think about him now, there's not a time I'm not thinking about him. Thinking about the last time I replied him in one word, too afraid I might spill out a part of me if I say anymore more. Bandu walks by a little faster, "you comin'? I'll go and start on the lunch. Drop by the office at the end of the sanctuary gate. Tell them about your sunglasses."


I come back to see the bonfire is still on, everyone left. Sitting down on the wooden bench I pull out another cigarette. Maybe later..... I could stop thinking about him, the smile, the first words exchanged- do I even want to? I knew what I was doing. I refuse to acknowledge that part of me. To write it down in a paper. Lock it up in a bottle and throw it far away in the sea. The dog (Shal) snuggles up beside me and the book is open on my lap. Milan Kundera talking about Thomas and his erotic friendships; morning after, Tereza sleeping soundly by his side, fingers tangled. Shal stirs beside me. Are my thoughts loud enough to disrupt his nap? I hear a mingle of laughter and music coming from downstairs. They start singing "What Makes You Beautiful". The dog looks up to my face. I stroke his head, "You hear that Shal? Isn't that surprising, love?" He puts his paw on my leg and snuggles closer. I can feel it on my face, the chapped lips and the cold tip of my nose. 'Maybe later....maybe I don't want to'..... I think it starts snowing after a while.