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Manju Srivatsa

Childhood memories and kaleidoscopes – colors, images, vignettes, and fragments – each so poignant and full of beauty that it hurts. Driveways and lawns full of flowers, orchards bursting with foliage and wild growth, and bushes upon bushes laden with an extravaganza of color and fragrance. Visualise amidst all this a young mind foraging in nature for new magical treasures everyday.

 With these indelible imprints an artist is created to erupt with full force after three decades of a corporate career.

Art need not be explained, in fact I do not explain my art. For me art thrives in the realms of the heart, and is nurtured by the senses. My flowers evoke tangible images even in my sleep where I can taste the colors and touch the fragrance, and the images tend to overwhelm the soul. The imagery is so powerful that I wake up to a head buzzing with thoughts and ideas.

Translating these images to watercolor is sheer magic. The translucent spontaneity is like nature itself- vivacious and so full of abandon, defying control and always seeking a world beyond the boundaries. The purity and overflowing abundance of flowers finds its true soulmate in the temperamental vagaries of the medium.

An artist is not about the number of pieces she has created, or the number of exhibitions held. Her art is about being true, and about reflecting her soul in her creations.

My flowers are a compelling force.

I paint because I must.

And I paint flowers because they talk to me.

It is my prayer and my meditation.