In my head, I have this tiny bead like rudiments that constitute what I believe in. I don’t know how did they melted inside me and created an elaborate pile of blocks. I can feel they have been there for eons and some of them have been even neglected!
When I need to justify my act or intention, I use them to make a garland that wraps around me and define my existence. At times some of them appear rusty and their tarnished facade confronts me. When it happens, I hurriedly grab a brush made with my current reasoning about life and self then start painting them. I may choose a bright shining color of vogue contemplation or a somewhat cool tone down verdict of my self-realization. I start a mental dance with my minute me, exchange some dialogue silently and keep painting until I am happy to use them. It all depends what I want at that moment!
Sometime I feel these beads are accumulating, like fat cells a lot of unwanted, unfounded theories or ideas around them. I might have tossed at them what ever I thought prudent at one point during my hyper charged life. They start to grow bulky and I suddenly find them a bit tiring to carry with me. I then start to use dissent or my new experiences as a chisel and curve out a new shape out of them. I keep hammering them until I am pleased with the sexier contemporary look.
Sometime I grind, tint and reshape them with impulses to make a skull full of mush. By the time I am done, very little of the original structure remains intact.
It boils down to this; I believe what I want to believe. And the ‘want’ part of this equation evolves as I live a life. I always carry my heart to paint, reshape, and dismantle my minute me – and I am having lot of fun doing just that.