India (December, 2016) – I recognize the concept of street festivals happening outside one's habitation. However neighbourhood mela's in Kolkata take on a new meaning of crowded, the noise almost hypnotic, but also tantalizing and enchanting. It felt almost overnight the tranquil family abode and surrounding neighbourhood turned into a circus performance. The small congested laneways lined on both sides with vendors hawking anything you could possibly need. Just as fast as the fair appeared, it vanished without much trace, leaving behind the same tranquil space of the very nostalgic past.

Canada (February, 2021) – It had been a long stretch of isolation, leading to wild ideas. It was far beyond subzero; the lake frozen – glacial in appearance with stretches of unappealing ridged ice. The girls and I met up for a dog walk along the beachfront. I remember a joyful day, full of laughter, cackles and grins resulting in a few frozen fingers. It wasn't until I started to defrost that I could appreciate the scenery in its glory.

Uzbekistan (November, 2019) – As we walked past the first of several doorways it was evident that restoration was underway. Wandering through the side entrance of the 16th century complex, we discovered the secluded women's section. Divided from the rest of the space with hand carved wooden screens, reminiscent to those found in India and back at the homestead. It was a nod to the familiar with the added light cast through the etched window panels. 

Canada (June, 2021) – I vaguely remember feeling better about the change of seasons, the change of light, the lifting of restrictions. The neighbourhood got a fresh coat of paint and a few colourful murals to brighten the covid haze. For a brief moment; the light was perfect and my mood inspired, pondering the next great thing to come my way.

Canada (February, 2024) – I went back for a second whirlwind tour of Haring's (often explicit) 80's pop art exhibition. Perhaps based on the location of my childhood domicile and the eclectic entourage that visited, I am familiar with a particular era of Haring's iconography. I found myself lost both times watching old videos of the artist in action... literally painting himself into a corner. For me the retrospective connects to a particularly difficult time; a lingering epidemic with an overwhelming sense of prejudice based on fear of the unknown.