Art is beyond therapy
It is transcendental
In this human existence on earth, we perceive our
surroundings, our experiences through our senses. It is no denying that sensory
perceptions are what makes our experiences so unique.
According to Wiktionary, art is the conscious, skillful
arrangement of elements—like color, sound, or language—to affect the senses and
emotions, or to communicate ideas. It encompasses creative expression,
aesthetic value, and the resulting works, such as paintings, sculptures, or
performances.
Etymologically, the word "art" comes from the
Latin ars (or artem), which meant skill, craft, or a work of art.
This Latin word traces back to the Proto-Indo-European root ar-, meaning
"to fit together." This root connects to other words involving
assembly or production, like arm and artificial.[1]
[2]
Since I was very little, I was entrenched in artistically
expressing myself. I wasn’t necessarily schooled in art per se; however,
expressing myself through various art forms was a major part of my growing up.
On my mom’s side were dreamers and creators, and on my dad’s side, consumers
and critics. My mom, who also majored in biology in college like me, sees art
in everything that surrounds her. I believe she has passed on this very same
artistic acuity to me. At the same time, I have imbibed my dad’s conception of
knowledge through books and science. I’m grateful to have acquired the best
from both my parents to have a mishmash of sorts—a dreamer, a believer, a
cynic, and a learner all in one—allowing me to perceive the world and see the
potential to create art in all its forms. Give me twigs, a canvas, pencils,
utensils, a pen, a notebook, music, or any random ingredient, and my mind
immediately starts exploring the potential to create. There I was, mentally
manifest-crafting my way into the hearts of Amy Poehler and Nick Offerman, only
for the pandemic to ruthlessly crush my reality TV debut before it even
started.
Okay! Truth be said; I’m neither saying that my relatives
were famous artists, nor did my direct ancestry include professional artists.
However, in my opinion, many of my relatives were able to quietly express
themselves in artistic proportions that are truly divine. My mom’s ability to
masterfully cook thogayal (spiced chutney) and kootu (lentil
stew), create freehand sand art in the form of Rangoli, sketch, paint, or even
build something out of recyclable waste has truly been ingrained in my very
being. An artistic thread runs deeply through my family. My grandma and my
brother played the violin; my sister can sing like an angel even today; and two
of my nieces are incredibly talented dancers. My aunts were always into
singing, dancing, or playing a musical instrument, while a few of my cousins
have also learned to play instruments over the years. Even my grandpa captured
his own form of art, maintaining a daily diary that he wrote in for as long as
I can remember. My dad is an avid consumer of art in all its forms; his gift
for ekphrasis has beautifully shaped and refined my own skillset, particularly
when it comes to writing.
Art to me is that shift from conception to creation, one
that transpires from flowing with nature’s patterns. It is deeply rooted in the
understanding of nature’s rhythm and how she intentionally forges new pathways.
To me, art is my way of communicating with my entire being. If you ask anyone
who has known me for a long time, they would definitely pin me down as being
artistically expressive.
I believe that an artist acts as the perfect vessel,
receiving, interpreting, and transmitting earthly and ethereal information into
art, a creation that emerges as ephemeral bursts encapsulated within the
time-space continuum. When these transient moments are frozen into a snapshot,
they can later be replayed and rejoiced, time and time again. Above all, art is
a means to transcend the mundane—a direct conduit to the divine essence.
Photo credit: NBC show Friends, Season 7, Episode 16, "The One With The Truth About London"
Tantalizing Tactile Experiences
It is impossible to create art without the ability to feel
through our largest organ, our skin. Our tactile sense is perhaps the most
invaluable tool for both sensing and creating art; without it, we simply cannot
convey the true depth of our universe.
Whether I’m sculpting, crocheting, sewing, dancing, cooking,
gardening, sketching, painting, or writing, without my tactile expressions, my
art would render incomplete. It always begins with me touching my instruments
of creation. Dancing, especially, is entirely about expressing through my face
and the motions of my body, which are fundamentally rendered by my physical
structure of bones and muscles. Cooking also requires knowing the feel of
ingredients and their changing textures in their before and after forms. The
temperature, the aroma, the essence, and the taste are all so very vital.
Culinary geniuses explore a sagacious understanding of smell, texture, and
taste—important sensory perceptions conveyed into the experiential wisdom
needed to truly enjoy food.
Growing up ingrained in South Indian culture, I was also
exposed to eating with my bare hands. There is truly nothing better than
engaging all your senses to experience food in the most pleasurable way. This
is beautifully true when food is served as a vibrant palette on a banana leaf,
with the textures and colors laid out strategically. In that moment, the eater
becomes the artist, consuming the food as their hands journey around the leaf,
mixing and blending before taking each bite of the delicious spread. They are
essentially consuming the art itself, committing it directly to the mind's
memory centers to be re-lived and savored later. To me, smell and touch invoke
the richest experiences that can be transferred through food. If you’re a connoisseur
of food like me, you would understand.
I believe that during the early learning phases of
toddlerhood, children naturally love exploring their worlds through smell,
touch, and taste. This was especially true for Sachika; as a toddler, many of
her artistic expressions were significantly tactile in nature. Her early
creativity thrived through the hands-on textures of kinetic sand art, rainbow
loom, weaving loom, Play-Doh, and building blocks.
Sachika, in her golden and
preteen years, bonded with me over baking and cooking. Our favorite shows that
inspired our creative masterpieces were MasterChef, Rosanna Pansino’s baking
channel, and several other Food Network shows. However, I have to admit that I
do not particularly subscribe to the Gen Z culture of mukbang, where you watch
others gorge on food. I guess it is a new-age art that appeals to youngsters?
Currently, I prefer subscribing to my favorite chefs on YouTube—Maangchi, Your
Food Lab, Pick Up Limes, and Hermann—for inspirational vegan recipes. Yet, I
must confess I thoroughly enjoy the "reel end card" moments on Your
Food Lab, when Chef Sanjyot Keer relishes his own creation. Perhaps mukbang, to
me, is only acceptable as a climactic, finishing moment.
My pet tabby, Maxi, also
creates her divine, healing masterpiece of PURRFECTION only after she lays on
her human. Of course, the warmup begins with her walking between the legs of
her human compadre, rubbing aggressively yet lovingly against their legs, hands,
and face with her soft, soft fur. If pet art isn’t divine, then what is?
Trailblazers for Differently Abled
“My hand is to me what you’re hearing, and sight together are to you.” “Beauties of the hand are many, touch has its ecstasies, the hands of people of strong individuality and sensitiveness are wonderfully mobile in a glance of their fingertips they express many shades of thought”—The world I live in & Optimism, a collection of essays by Helen Keller
Helen Keller’s wonderfully expresses about her tactile,
taste, and sense of smell in her book “The World I live in & Optimism”. She
conveys in her book the idea that art can be apprehended through the whole
body, not just through the eyes and ears. Keller’s reflections make the sense
of touch feel expansive, poetic, intimate, and divine—a pathway into beauty,
knowledge, and transcendence. In her words she emphasizes that touch was not a
lesser substitute for sight and hearing, but her primary way of knowing,
feeling, and participating in the three worlds she perceived—physical,
intellectual, and spiritual. For her, the hand functioned as an eye, an ear,
and almost a spiritual instrument. Through touch, she could experience the
tremble of a butterfly’s wing, the softness of flowers, the form of sculpture,
and the living presence of another person.
She presents the hand as both sensory and sacred: it allows
her to grasp the physical world, understand beauty, connect with others, and
reach toward intellectual and spiritual meaning. Keller also challenges the
assumption that the five senses are neatly separate. By pointing out how
language blends sensory terms—such as “hearing views,” “seeing tones,” or
“tasting music”—she suggests that all perception is interconnected, and that
touch can hold as much richness, depth, and ecstasy as sight or sound.
Helen Keller changed how the world sees art and disability. Today,
her legacy lives on through the Helen Keller National Center (HKNC). The center
hosts the "Seeing Differently" art show in Manhasset, New York. This
exhibit lets visitors feel paintings and sculptures made by DeafBlind artists. This
tactile exhibition at The Art Guild demonstrates how art transcends boundaries
to become a powerful language of communication, connection, and creative
expression.[3]
To me, another quiet trailblazer bringing the artistic
expressions of the differently abled to the general public is GiftAbled. GiftAbled
is the living vision of Prarthana and Prateek Kaul, who are nourishing this
beautiful grassroots effort to bring sensory-challenged artisans a healthy,
dignified living. It is a truly inspiring journey that takes their foresight
far beyond simply providing a livelihood for people with disabilities; they aim
to empower and make their artisans shine through sustainably sourced products
that showcase their beautiful creations.
I was introduced to Prarthana through her sister, Archana,
who is a college classmate of my husband, Shashi. I instantly fell in love with
GiftAbled’s clear vision and path. I eagerly wait for Prarthana’s wishful
weekly tidbits in her Marvelous Monday posts, part of her #20For20 series. I
can attest to the absolute joy I feel when listening to her media posts. I am
transfixed as her ever-smiling, purely joyful, and dazzlingly expressive face
delivers power-packed punches of wisdom bytes. Through her journey of uplifting
the lives of so many, she never fails to inspire me.[4]
Stimulating Auditory Waves
A mother’s heartbeat creates the soft sound waves that
resonate through a sea of amniotic fluid, soothing the baby in the womb. It is
this first sound bite that we familiarize ourselves with from deep within. That
rhythmic impulse begins to attune us to the vibrations and sounds around us,
setting the stage for all our future experiences with sound. Perhaps this
primordial connection is how ancient cultures discovered that certain sounds
and hymns produce specific vibrational frequencies that resonate directly with
the divine. Ultimately, certain music and sounds possess the power to transport
us into a state of transcendence, echoing the sacred temple of our mother’s
womb where we were first created.
Hindu temples are architectural wonders designed as a
symbolic reminder of this truth, housing the deity within the "Garbha
Griha"—literally, the womb of the divine mother. Within these sacred
structures, sound serves as the most entrancing element. The resounding ringing
of bells, the pulse of drums, and the cadence of hymns and chants are all
carefully woven to draw you deeper into an inward journey.
Singing, chanting, and music kindle three core aspects of
Bhakti Yoga: Shravanam (hearing), Kirtanam (chanting), and Smaranam
(remembering). Shravanam involves actively listening to sacred chants and
discourses, planting seeds of divine love that create a continuous undercurrent
of God-consciousness during daily chores. Kirtanam channels restless mental
energy outward by singing the praises of the Divine through bhajans and
mantras. Finally, Smaranam keeps the divine presence alive internally through
Japa—the silent repetition of a mantra throughout the day. For me, chanting my
go-to mantra, “Sri Ram Jai Ram Jai Jai Ram,” is the ultimate way to ground my
thoughts and calm my mind.
Sound engineering and acoustics are foundational
architectural cornerstones of churches and cathedrals. One cannot deny the
powerful state of grace that takes over when a choir performs during a Sunday
mass.
I’m reminded of the lyrics in the Secret Garden lullaby “May
there always be angels to watch over you. To guide you each step of the way”.
The soothing melodies of this song indeed lulled toddler Sachika to sound sleep.
Lullabies are simple musical art that starts at home. They may not fill concert
halls but to me they are divine symphonies.
Today, as a seventeen-year-old, her taste in music is like
an old-school FM dial—she can tune into any genre depending entirely on her
mood. She subscribes to Spotify Premium and wears her Beats headphones as if
they were a permanent accessory in her everyday wardrobe. Naturally, we often
have opinion squabbles over what constitutes actual music versus what should be
classified as pure noise. As I said earlier, art is highly subjective and there
is absolutely no right or wrong answer (though, for the record, she is wrong
sometimes).
“Sound waves are physical and have different frequencies.”
In Project Hail Mary, Andy Weir’s brilliant book and its spectacular film
adaptation, he introduces the Eridians—intellectual beings from the planet Erid
who communicate and navigate entirely via echolocation because they lack
traditional sight. They possess rock-hard exoskeletons laced with intricate
nerve endings that intuitively produce sounds. When an author's vision of an
alien is brought to life with perfect sound engineering on the big screen, the
audience instantly falls in love with them. Be it Rocky, Chewbacca, Groot, or
Jaadu, their vibrational hums strum the strings of our hearts in perfect,
resonant harmony.
When listening to certain music, regardless of whether you
understand the lyrics, the notes possess a magical ability to transport you to
an entirely different realm. Similarly, Celtic and classical instrumental music
always places me on a creative wavelength. I fell in love with Enya as a
teenager, and that habit has beautifully stayed with me. For me, consuming
sound art means tuning into soft, rhythmic decibels—focusing on the vibrational
waves sent through my body rather than solely relying on auditory stimuli. I am
sure that cacophonous, louder genres like Noise Music, Hardstyle, Heavy Metal
(such as Doom or Death Metal), Aggressive Dubstep, and Neurofunk have their own
distinct appeal to many, but I prefer to stay far away from them.
Photo credit: NBC show Friends, Season 4, Episode where Ross Debuts His Music Skills
Captivating Visual Sensations
As someone who has been visibly abled all my life, I believe
vision is our most stimulating, yet deeply deceiving, sensory perception.
Indeed, the study of physics would be incomplete without an understanding of
light, just as our earthly existence would lack a profoundly immersive depth
without sight.
While all senses can be fallible, vision is simultaneously
our greatest gift for creating art and designing the physical world, and our
worst curse when manipulated by the mind to establish a deep-seated ego.
Because sight can be so easily influenced, it is naturally the very first sense
we cut off during meditation to achieve deeper introspection.
As humans, we have built a world designed primarily for the sighted majority. Out of 8.2 billion people globally, roughly 6 billion are visually abled, meaning our environments are highly optimized for the 73% who perceive the material world through the visible spectrum. However, this leaves a massive, underserved population of visually and differently abled individuals.
Credit: Scientific Reports (2024). DOI: 10.1038/s41598-024-64372-2[5]
As a lifelong visual artist and a keen observer of human
biology—fascinated by how visual field and handedness biases shape our
perception—I have explored dozens of mediums, from sculpting and ceramics to
intricate beadwork and high-school biological sketches. Recently, I found a
deeply meditative synergy by combining the fluid, unpredictable nature of
watercolor painting with the structured, mindful practice of neurographic art.
By surrendering to a state of creative flow and intentionally rounding every intersecting
line, my initial concepts organically unveil themselves at the finish line.
Art is a vast, endless medium of learning that constantly fascinates me, regardless of whether a form is ancient or modern. I want to express my deep gratitude to Vasanthi Aunty, who introduced me to two incredible Indian folk-art traditions: Warli and Madhubani. These two styles sit on opposite ends of the artistic spectrum. Warli relies on a minimalist, single-color palette and basic stick figures to capture lively scenes, while Madhubani embraces vibrant, bold colors and intricate, detailed patterns. I thoroughly enjoyed both workshops and highly recommend them to anyone, from absolute beginners to advanced painters.
My journey into classical Indian dance began in my teens
with Bharatanatyam, a fundamentally structured art form. It follows a highly
systematic progression from one adavu (footwork sequence) to the next,
seamlessly weaving mudras (hand gestures) and abhinaya (expressive
storytelling) into intricate choreographies that honor foundational techniques.
While Bharatanatyam's various schools infuse the form with distinct stylistic
signatures, my dance journey recently evolved when I was blessed to find my
Kathak Guru, Parna Basu-ji. She is a direct disciple of the legendary Pandit
Birju Maharaj-ji, who was bestowed with the Padma Vibhushan for his exemplary
service to Kathak.
Rooted in the ancient royal courts of Northern India—a
history traditionally dominated by male dancers across various gharanas
(schools)—Kathak is the profound art of storytelling through dance. Unlike the
linear structure of Bharatanatyam, Kathak requires moving with the entire body
in a unique state of balance: the core remains strong and deeply engaged, the
posture stays perfectly composed, yet every movement flows with effortless
elegance, grace, and intentional stances while the eyes fluidly follow the path
of each gesture.
I’m in awe of all the creativity that surrounds us. Be it natural
or artificial, real or envisioned, ephemeral or permanent, art is that invokes
a deep sentiment within us, a sentiment only known to us through our
experiences, our beliefs, our knowledge.
The Written Word
Language is one of the most significant milestones in human
evolution, serving as the bedrock for both verbal and written communication.
Through prose and poetry, words become a deeply evocative art form capable of
meaningfully reflecting the world we live in; indeed, even the emergence of
artificial intelligence would have been impossible without the structure of
human language. Having enjoyed a long, rewarding career as a technical writer
crafting instructional materials for diverse products, I am now transitioning
into creative writing—a new journey whose fluid, expressive process I am
thoroughly enjoying.
Conclusion
Each and every one of us has the capacity to be that channel
for artistic rendering. Even while performing our everyday chores and tasks, be
it gardening, cooking, or organizing, we are implored to engineer, to build,
and to create. Our creations may not be masterpieces, but they are simple,
functional products and systems that alleviate our routines.
The culmination of sensory experience, veiled in the shadows
of the mind, makes every artistic rendition deeply subjective. If you are a
breathing, functioning human adult Earthling, this material world, and your
worldly experiences shape the way you perceive it. Ultimately, art is in the
perception of the beholder, the seer of art, whether that seeing happens
through the ocular device of the body or the mind’s eye.
Thank you for exploring this creative journey with me. If
this piece resonated with you, please show your support by leaving a few
claps—or many, if it truly inspired you! I believe we are living in an era of
an unprecedented creative surge, with a unique ability to access resources that
enhance our innate abilities and accelerate our artistic evolution. As humans,
we have progressively evolved intellectually, spiritually, and creatively, and
we are now stepping into uncharted territory for human expression.
I would love to hear your thoughts: What does art mean to
you? How do you prefer to express yourself? And are you, like me, a jack of
many arts, exploring where your true mastery lies?
References and honorable mentions:
- There Plant Eyes, A Personal and Cultural History of Blindness, By M. Leona Godin
- https://seandietrich.substack.com/p/the-helen-keller-art-show
- Soul, blues, jazzy renderings of Ray Charles, Hit the road jack or Georgia on my mind.
- https://www.worldartswest.org/mission--vision.html
[1] Danto,
A. (1986). 'Art, Evolution, and the Consciousness of History'. The
Philosophical Disenfranchisement of Art. New York, Columbia University Press
Aparna's writing is incredibly beautiful and articulate. I was fortunate enough to meet her in person and spend some time chatting about many subjects. Aparna has a rare and unique ability to see beauty and goodness all around her. After spending a couple of hours together and now reading her blog I truly feel I am a better person. Thank you Aparna!
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