Every moment here, my brain is filled with a cacophony of musings and observations - it's been far too long since my last post. Although it feels egocentric to think that people would want to read this frequently, I am resolved to blog several times a week, at least while in Delhi. Writing is, in some ways, the best way for me to document, process, and remember this trip. 

Suraj and I have parted ways for a few weeks. As he continues to visit with family and friends, I am in my studio space at the Sanskriti Foundation Kendra, where I am doing a three-week artist residency.  It's located in Guragoan, which is a 'suburb' outside of Delhi. It's difficult to be away from my sweetheart and cultural navigator, but important to push myself and be in this space independently. Doing so gives me perspective on how I might be able to carve out my own niche here in time.

My mind is awake - each day is a new experience, a new moment, and new place, filled with its own beauties, secrets and challenges.  I realize that parts of my mind had gone to sleep, dulled by the familiarity of life in Baltimore and the comforts that came with it. Being alone in Delhi, I have no choice but to consistently push myself to be uncomfortable, vulnerable, and at the mercy of the unknown. Volatility has been a constant; every day promises instances of deep frustration or insecurity in what I am doing; deep gratitude that life has given me this opportunity; and complete affirmation that I should be exactly where I am. This combination of emotions can be exhausting or exhilarating, depending on circumstance. Either way, I ground myself in the belief that these challenges are the seeds that will grow my understanding and influence my life work. 

Considerations of poverty, class divisions, differences based in caste, and potential for social mobility currently shape my thoughts. Shortly before leaving Baltimore, I read two books: The White Tiger, and Behind the Beautiful Forevers.  I highly recommend both; each depicts the lives of present-day Indians struggling and succeeding to survive in modern India.  Both works color the lens that I'm looking through and some persistent questions have begun to form: What specifically, is development, and what does it look like?  How does it shift the lives of people living it?  What is lost and what is gained in this process?  What are visual microcosms that illustrate this transition?  

I am slowly cultivating a cultural and visual lexicon to read and analyze what I see. In some ways, being here feels familiar, and I find myself comparing and contrasting this environment to what I experienced living in Ho Chi Minh City. Riding in an auto-rickshaw, feeling the warm sun on my skin, listening to the din of traffic and bustle, is not so overwhelming.  But, the underlying complexities of Indian society, religion, mannerisms, etc., are specifically unique, and this is what I am now processing.