The Journey So Far
Looking back and charting the course forward.
For our first project, we had to reflect on our paths so far and provide a little ‘show-&-tell’ of who we are and where our story begins, some of our inspirations and where we see ourselves down the line. While design and art celebs are too numerous to count and continue to be an important source of influences, I felt a more honest portrayal of me as a person would perhaps necessitate a trip down memory lane. For in those everyday doldrums and everyday interactions lie the source of my inspiration and a lifetime of emotions. I present to you my story.
I think a good place to start would be this portrait of my grandfather that I took in 2018, and why so will make sense by the end of this story. Growing up as a kid I always found my grandfather to be a bit of an enigma. He was an atheist in a highly religious family, he never indulged in watching movies or anything fun, and was always going on and on about how he felt insignificant, and how the only path that made sense to him was in his pursuit of knowledge, and how giving back to people in his hometown was all he cared about. He was the living embodiment of the phrase “I travel and know things.” As a child I found him thoroughly unrelatable, and unimaginably boring. Little did I know. Unfortunately, he passed away a year later.
I was born in Chennai, a city brimming with culture and history bursting though every one of its bustling and rather haphazardly organised veins, located in Tamil Nadu, South India. The majority of my formative years as well as a lot of my childhood were spent in countries around the world however, thanks largely to my dad and mum constantly getting transferred. I returned to Chennai in 2006 and until about three weeks ago, was where I lived and loved and studied and plied my craft.
While I learn to remain in a blissful state of cluelessness as to my future, it’s quite clear to me that I will eventually move back to Chennai. A few years down the line, looking back, I think the only way I would feel like my life had some sense of purpose was if I did something to give back to my city. Perhaps that stems from the fact that it is my home, or maybe my general struggle with accepting change has something to do with it. Regardless, all paths lead home.
Speaking of home.
This was a photograph I took a few days before I left to Boston, and I think it encapsulates the major elements of Chennai I most love, the breathtaking skies and romantic seashores just being the surface. A highly romanticised version of the city admittedly, but this is how I see Chennai. And well, this is my story after all. My work and my identity to this day continues to be hugely rooted to my love for this place.
And what is home if not for the people who make it so? Footballer, fighters, friends for well over a decade, this raggedy team of delightful delinquents have often been the bread and butter to my creative breakfast. My introduction to Tamil cinema, cult literature, psychedelic aesthetics, all can be attributed to this bond. While all of us are in our separate ways and trying to move forward, coming back home is something we all eagerly look forward to.
Then of course are my parents. A large part of growing up has been a stream of steady but sure epiphanic moments where cracks in the wall of reality start to show. One that has captivated my mind to this day is the realisation of the silly little kids these two adults actually are. The bickering is childish, the slip-ups goofier than ever. But I guess that childish glee is exactly sort of what allowed them to be the loving people they are. They fell in love, they kept the house loving, and they kept me lovingly. My mum was always an artist, her sketches to this day often baffle me. My dad’s passion for photographing the little moments in our lives were perhaps what started my passion for it. While I did not actively pursue it for a while, the inspiration to do so was always there. Watching American advertisements and Hollywood’s biggest flicks were a constant source of inspiration as well.
For the most part, my sister and I were never really that close, shamefuly I admit. We always had separate paths and seldom did they cross, largely due to our significant age difference. The universe works in mysterious ways, and years later, in the crucible of our individual crises arose our fraternity. Now one of my most trusted allies and advisors, it doesn’t take much to realise how far more driven, fierce, compassionate, mature and talented my sister always was. A budding makeup artist with a will-try-anything attitude and an extraordinary sense of colour, a lot of my work has definitely been influenced by this ferocious woman. This photograph was taken the moment she realised she had gotten accepted into medical school, just a few months back. We have another doctor in the house!
After a pointless schooling, I began my 5-year integrated masters in the humanities at IIT Madras, where I majored in English Studies. The birthplace of some my greatest memories and most challenging moments. The gratification of having these experiences is largely attributed to some of the friendships that were forged in my time there. My passion for photography, my love for writing, my proclivity for philosophy, and a MASSIVE chunk of my cynicism god damn, were bred here. This photograph was taken at graduation.
Then there’s my girlfriend of five years. Some of the most mind-blowing, eye-opening, life-altering thoughts and ideas have been catalysed by the imagination, companionship and dexterity of this one woman. Confronting my inadequacies rather than “running away” from them in every sense of the word, is something I could never have even conceived myself doing. Smirking, she set me on the path, and accompanying me all the way through this harrowing hall-of-mirrors was the same person to do so. This photograph was taken a few days before departing for Boston.
Work before BU
My work before BU can be largely classified into three major categories of sources of inspiration:
{1} Music has and always will be a huge source of ideas, as is with most creatives. I started making posters for songs that I listened to on a daily basis, lyrics that I vibed with, and artists that just sounded oh so sexy. Im talking to you Alex Turner.
{2} I then began to try to synthesise my love for photography and writing into one, with graphic design being my choice of conduit. My experiments mostly were crafted using pictures I took from home. I was never much of an outdoor person.
{3} My more philosophical grapplings found their way onto my canvasses eventually. Nothing sparked more curiosity in me than the unbelievable complexity and simplicity of man. I sound like an alien.
I worked on a few branding projects too, some of which you see above. While these weren’t exactly my most favourite kind of projects, it was definitely a brutal learning experience. Some of the perils of the freelancing world were exposed to me on this particular part of the path.
My interest in editorial design really ignited with the conception of MadrasArt&Architecure, an online magazine my friends and I started. An attempt to highlight and promote the up and coming wave of contemporary artists that are blowing away Chennai’s typical cobwebs of tradition. Unfortunately, with each of us having set out on our own expeditions, sailing hasn’t been as smooth. But it lives, and is something I most certainly plan to have breathing healthily again. I started to design sample spreads of what I envisioned the magazine to look like if ever printed. I continue to be really proud of this particular work.
Of course, there had to be type. A graphic manifestation of my love for writing, my eternal affair with typography began soon and experiments quickly ensued. These are some of the typefaces I made but never really got around to completing. Maybe I didn’t find them polished enough, or perhaps I was too afraid of being judged in such a polished field that divided the expert craftsman from the amatuer attempters. Either way, type is here to stay.
BU Fall 2020
First semester was a whirlwind. The vastness of the prompts presented to us, the impactful criticism and the constant air of play all encouraged me to pursue designing differently. I started to take on more heavier concepts with my work, some with more political overtones and some more displaying of my individual insecurities. I started to try straying from my usual minimal and open aesthetic, and tried adopting more dynamic elements and messy layouts, I began to work with simple animations too.
I also started to view graphic design outside of the digital spectrum. I discovered a new childlike sense of wonder for the craft side of things, as if almost taken back to play-doh days. Just to be able to do something with my hands felt magical, and the integration of the analog with the digital only invigorated me more. My love for photography rose to prominence shortly after.
Process
So, about that.
I mean, are you really a designer if your design process doesn’t look like this? This is an abstract from one of my assignments for Typography class, where we were asked to make a not-really-a-diagram of our creative process. I thought it’d be interesting to trace the genesis of the idea rather than the creative product itself. I could still take you through this trainwreck step by step, but I’d save that travel for a unconceivably freer day.
Future?
So, what now? Where do I go from here? What kinda job should I be in? To be completely honest, I have no clue. I have no idea what my dream job would look like, I have no idea where I want to be, or what interests I wanna pursue and make a career out of. But there are certain inexcusable criteria the future step would have to satisfy in order for me to truly consider it as a dream possibility.
{1} It would have to allow, nay, encourage me to continue with my pursual of exploring new narratives through photography and type.
{2} It would have to bring me closer to the people I love and adore. All of this pales blue in comparison to the gravity with which these individuals unknowingly occupy and operate in my inner and outer spaces.
{3} It would allow me to get closer to home, and enable me to give back. I really see myself teaching? I somehow find the greatest challenges and creative warmth to come from being in academia. I hope to perhaps be a tiny addition to the field, given that it is certainly quite a necessity back home.
The Now
So here I am. In Boston, an MFA Grad student at the CFA at Boston University. The aforementioned cluelessness has sustained well and things have been blurrier than ever. My sense of identity and self-perception has for long been in a steady state of flux, my interests wavering like my lapses in timezone awareness. But there are a few things I’m certain of. Im an atheist, Im ferociously proud of being a Tamilian, Im daunted as I am inspired by how much I dont know, and I feel inexplicably insignificant in the grand scheme of things. Strangely enough, I can think of only one other person who I feel I could completely relate to.
Nandri.
