art
Artistic, musical, creative, and entertaining topics in Journal's workplace sphere.
Uplifting the Artisans practising Dhokra Art through Coshal Art
Uplifting the Artisans practising Dhokra Art through Coshal Art Today, we have with us Mr. Ankesh Banjare, who, along with his partner Mr. Abhinav, is working on the upliftment of the artisans in Chhattisgarh and the revival of Dhokra art form through his start-up Coshal Art.
By ABHISHEK KUMAR BHANU5 years ago in Journal
A Pair of Scissors and Some Yarn
2014 was the year everything really started for me. I started college in February for a BA in Media Arts and Animation at the Art Institute of Pittsburgh - Online Division. My dad was the one that paid my entry fee so I could get in! He was very excited that I found a school that would advance my skills as an artist. I absolutely loved these classes, and it confirmed that I wanted to do art for my career long term. Not only did school work keep me busy, but any spare time I had, I committed to doing bigger art projects that I had never really dared to do before. I know it sounds silly, but crocheting was my idea of intimidation because I had never done more than a chain stitch before. I remember mom teaching me a chain stitch when I was a toddler, and I'd make a row of chain stitches so long it could lap our house...at least that's how I remember it! To teach myself stitches and patterns, I turned to the trusty DIY videos on YouTube. The very first hat I ever made was a cute Hello Kitty beanie with braids. And, yes, I still have it! As artsy as I was, I didn't have a lot of art stuff, yet. Just a lot of paper, a bunch of crayons and pencils, and a pair of safety scissors. My mom also had some old metal crochet hooks that had been forgotten over time and tucked away in a drawer. I loved doing crochet projects, and wanted to be even more daring and try to sell my work at events. I did some research and started setting everything up to officially start my business in July 2014. Crocheted themed hats and toys and accessories were getting pumped out for some upcoming events, and friends and family were booking Christmas commissions already.
By Samara Lesage5 years ago in Journal
The little joys of making.
When I was a kid, nothing excited me more than stationery ... and lollies. Lets be real here, we are talking about a child who used to eat sugar cubes from the cupboard when mum wasn't looking. And yes, they were so bad for my teeth, but they were so delicious! Sometimes, on the way home from a family outing, my mum would have to stop to buy milk and bread at the local corner store. She would let my sister and I go with her, and to my delight she would let us buy some of the sweets in the glass cabinet filled with tubs of lollies of every description. One by one we chose lollies until our little white paper bag was full. We felt like we were in Willy Wonka's chocolate factory, if it were run by a overweight greek man, and his wife. These were some of the best days of my childhood. Okay, I'm sorry, I have digressed. Let me tell you about when my love story with arts and crafts began and in order to do this, I take you back to the beginning.
By Karen Stokes5 years ago in Journal
Reflecting on James Baldwin’s “The Creative Process” and My Own
At 20 years old, I wrote my first poem and rediscovered the blissfully frightening feeling of starting something new that I knew nothing about. I write about love and music and not much else, but somehow these subjects reveal so much about myself to me. The closing line of a poem ties up loose ends; it gives me the closure others could not. The nuances of a comma or an indentation make all the difference, placing space to reflect at the precise moments and demanding attention at others.
By Hannah Rothbard5 years ago in Journal
The Art of Worldbuilding
In the world of a writer, we build stories around cities both real and make-belief. We shape destiny craft fates and throw obstacles in the way for the heroes to face. We develop new cultures and people of all kinds of nationalities. To create a world from nothing is no easy task.
By InkGalaxies~5 years ago in Journal
Making the world better, one flower at a time
Would it be ok if I start my story by saying I don’t believe in passion? Why you may ask. I think passion somehow put ‘you’ in the centre. It comes in a form of self, yourself, becoming about you. There is an inherent ‘self-centeredness’ that comes when you say ‘this is my passion, I am passionate about this and that.’ It may not necessarily be wrong but that is not something I resonate with or aim for. I spent my twenties doing what I thought I was passionate about, even though secretly I never really connected with that word, even from young days. I became an architect. I studied, I worked, I talked, I drew and breathed everything architecture. But there was a hole, something missing. Then I came across purpose.
By Mekala Rodrigo 5 years ago in Journal
meeting our mind
An unruled fist grabs a tired marker. Tired of being used to unload the anxieties of a conscious mind growing within the structures of an unconscious world. The body connects with the mind for the first time in the day. The sun has long been asleep, and the moon has brought tranquillity but also doubt. The hand, governed by the subconscious and delimited by a state of despair, tries to show the mind the infinite possibilities of a creative soul. For that, nothing like a cup of tea and the warm silence of a snoozing city.
By Pedro Guarracino5 years ago in Journal
Into Hell and back for love
I am bright yellow, well with an orange-ish yellow back-side a few green spots here and there for appeal. My maker thinks of my color as an act of kiln magic – where the fires of Hell hit me the hardest. I feel pretty, in a utilitarian kind of way, compared to my life before.
By Becky Yaeger5 years ago in Journal
The Journey
A haphazard stack of poetry sits on the corner of my desk as I contemplate what to do to keep them all in one place. Even as I think this, the restless little tabby cat jumps up and knocks a sheet or two onto the floor. He looks lazily at the wrinkled sheets floating through the dusty air and seems amused as they land with a rustle onto the wooden floor. A look of complete and utter boredom rests on his whiskery face as he walks the narrow runway over to where I sit. "Entertain me!" he seems to demand as he meows a squeaky little cry. I pick up the missing poetry off the floor as I give him a scratch under his furry little chin.
By Laura Lockridge5 years ago in Journal
What Delivering Pizza Taught Me About Running A 6 Figure Business
Flour into the big ass bowl. Dough packet. Water. Cut on the mixer. Throw the dough on the table. Weight it. Roll it. Cheese. Toppings. Oven. Cut. Box, and now, I’m running out the ay door to freedom.
By Cole Connor5 years ago in Journal
