Nani,

You rise each day
    with the sun

and sing ;

You thank the Universe for the everyday
              gifts



you see the beauty in even
the smallest cracks

in the pavement.

You teach me about
            gratitide

for the flowers

that still bloom through the
harshest of
            winters.

You tell me stories
of my
                parnanijis

how they traveled
miles and miles and
              miles from where the
                marigolds
                    grow,

golden as the
saffron in our meals,

to the soil I stand on
    today -

Where there has never been
enough

                 s  p  a  c  e

for us.



So you create your own
    temple

    sandhya you tell me

Where we are our own
        leaders

and you perform
            puja

reciting your
            spells once again at
        sundown.

Singing to remind me that
                   
      we are everywhere -
                    in water in the trees
                                   in the flowers

there is nothing compared to
                us.

It’s a miracle.


                                   
   

 







   











DRAW THE LINE: 

"Draw the Line" was a week-long group artist residency program at Hubbell Street Galleries. 

Are lines porous or solid?
Do we need to allow them to be flexible or do some lines need to be permanently fixed?
Are they like borders or like margins? Which lines have you drawn or must draw?



Through the method of video installation and imagery, Natasha drew from her Punjabi ancestry, and a focus on matriarch to create a space where the past, present, and future all meet: where they all can communicate; where others can feel safe reflecting on their multilayered selves and ancestry. A visual representation of how ritual, sacred space, and vulnerability can all allign.




 







Portraits of Destiny Arts Youth Performance Company members in Oakland, CA.

 
                                                                                
                                                                                                       
Mark