Yesterday Ash and I headed out of town to this muslim temple that's down the coast a bit. I first saw it a few weeks ago from this rocky out crop and it looked like it had some painting potential.
It was about a mile away from where we were staying, but it was a world apart from the mentality here. India is like Washington DC sometimes. This block is loaded with high class living, the next block is the ghetto.
I asked Ash to wear her shawl because she already stood out of the crowd, but with those long, blonde, curly locks blowing in the wind, she would have stood out like a man eating a hamburger in Delhi.
On the way down to the temple, we passed the Indian Wave Energy Project. A few years ago there was a project that tried to harness the energy of waves to generate power. It was going strong for a bit, but then a big wave came and wrecked the project. It's too bad though, because it is such a good idea. Waves roll in daily, oil is doesn't. Unless your in San Francisco bay, then it rolls up on the shore quite often.
Once we arrived at the temple we wandered around trying to find somewhere to paint. Once we found a good spot, we were surrounded by curious children. First they were asking for school pens every five seconds, but once I started painting, they stopped begging and just watched.
It's amazing how much respect an artist gets. Once they saw me start to paint, there entire mood changed. Even the adults who came by gave me instant respect. It happens all the time, but I still feel honored. People would come up and stand right in front of me. Before I had an opportunity to ask them to move, a member of the audience would speak up and tell the other person, 'Hey, hey hey, clear the way! Can't you see he's painting the temple?' Of course I couldn't undertsand any word they were saying, but body langauge and tone of voice says more then actual words.
The painting was difficult because of the crowds, the intense wind, and the sand that was blowing incessantly. One child kept holding my palette cause he wanted to feel cool. I let him since I could tell he felt special. Other kids were behind me and wanting to touch my shaved head. In circumstances like these it's a real challenge to stay focused, but I always appreciate a good challenge. It makes me wonder how some artists have their studio and are able to work in a room with no distractions, a perfectly comfortable chair, thier favorite music and all the ammenities like a bathroom, running water, electricity, etc.
It was about a mile away from where we were staying, but it was a world apart from the mentality here. India is like Washington DC sometimes. This block is loaded with high class living, the next block is the ghetto.
I asked Ash to wear her shawl because she already stood out of the crowd, but with those long, blonde, curly locks blowing in the wind, she would have stood out like a man eating a hamburger in Delhi.
On the way down to the temple, we passed the Indian Wave Energy Project. A few years ago there was a project that tried to harness the energy of waves to generate power. It was going strong for a bit, but then a big wave came and wrecked the project. It's too bad though, because it is such a good idea. Waves roll in daily, oil is doesn't. Unless your in San Francisco bay, then it rolls up on the shore quite often.
Once we arrived at the temple we wandered around trying to find somewhere to paint. Once we found a good spot, we were surrounded by curious children. First they were asking for school pens every five seconds, but once I started painting, they stopped begging and just watched.
It's amazing how much respect an artist gets. Once they saw me start to paint, there entire mood changed. Even the adults who came by gave me instant respect. It happens all the time, but I still feel honored. People would come up and stand right in front of me. Before I had an opportunity to ask them to move, a member of the audience would speak up and tell the other person, 'Hey, hey hey, clear the way! Can't you see he's painting the temple?' Of course I couldn't undertsand any word they were saying, but body langauge and tone of voice says more then actual words.
The painting was difficult because of the crowds, the intense wind, and the sand that was blowing incessantly. One child kept holding my palette cause he wanted to feel cool. I let him since I could tell he felt special. Other kids were behind me and wanting to touch my shaved head. In circumstances like these it's a real challenge to stay focused, but I always appreciate a good challenge. It makes me wonder how some artists have their studio and are able to work in a room with no distractions, a perfectly comfortable chair, thier favorite music and all the ammenities like a bathroom, running water, electricity, etc.
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