“Why have I chosen to be an artist..or is it something I cannot not be even if I didn’t want to…the sound of the rain hitting my studio roof makes me feel like I’m in a theatre.. Each drop creates a sound that is amplified when it touches the surface..I close my eyes and I listen to this amazing orchestra.. I really wish it rained more often. I look at the mess around me..a piece of huge canvas is spread on the floor, its my carpet. Sometimes I just take out my iron and iron that carpet, it feels as if I am ironing the floor. For some reason ironing the creases on the floor makes me want to work. As if I have cleaned a part of the studio, but not really. There’s an easel sitting outside on the roof for no reason, and a small table beside it. They stand steady in the wind and rain.. an amazing sight to watch really. Why are they there? Was there once an artist who painted on the roof on that easel..or are they there waiting for someone. There’s a huge crack in the window.. it was hit by thunder. The shadow of the crack casts on the dusty floor..”
— maitha-d.blogspot.com
