Warm December

Wrapping it all up once again. Two decades and a score. We survived the Apocalypse. We are survivors. Looking back now, the best part of this year was the gypsy eyed girl with the black bandanna that I shared a brief moment with. May you be forever wild. Amen.

Happy Holidays!!

But I have promises to keep
And miles to go before I sleep

— Robert Frost, Stopping by Woods on A Snowy Evening


Cherry Life

If the orb really cracks up today
 I have no regrets.


Against The Wind

I'm older now but still running
Against the wind

— Bob Seger, Against the Wind


When In Egypt

This is what I drew in my Ancient History class. Now, before you judge, I'm not really proud of what I did in the class either. But tell me this: who doesn't love dancing Egyptians?




You gallantly walk into the room, 
fashionably throw your shadow on the wall, and 
carelessly touch my heart in places I never knew existed. 


Vistas (vol. 2)

So, this is the second volume of sketches that I did during the last couple of days. This time, I decided to pay tribute to some of the old masters, my favorite painters instead. The following are my representation of some of my favorite works by them. I enjoyed a lot working on these sketches. I hope you enjoy them as well. 

The sketches are in the following order:

1. 'Wild Poppies'    - 1873 -  by Claude Monet
2. 'The Skiff'          - 1879 -  by Pierre - Aguste Renoir
3. 'Stonehenge'     - 1836 -  by John Constable
4. 'Starry Night'     - 1889 -  by Vincent van Gogh

P.S. - Once again, please click on picture and maximize for a better viewing experience. Cheers. 



I started a new project yesterday. Creating spaces with simple ingredients - paper, black marker and my imagination gone wild. The following sketches are quite different from my earlier ones but they nevertheless tell stories. I enjoyed working on them. They demanded very little time and gave me much freedom. I hope you like them. 

P.S. - Click on picture and maximize for a better viewing experience. Cheers. 


Love: A History


         Whatever happens in the end, she said, I
         don't want to loose you as my friend. He
         looked into her eyes. I promise I will
         never be your friend, no matter what,
         ever. Her voice cracked. If we fuck, I'm 
         going to feel like shit tomorrow. That's
         OK with me, he said. He lifted her shirt
         over her head. I love you, she said. I
         never hurt you on purpose. He nodded. I
         don't care.

            He would not be going to Italy.

— The Darjeeling Limited, 2007


Brittle Things

Wasted coffee. Dammit.