A 6-painting series that represents sanctuary, stability, refuge and belonging; done by Oormila for billionBricks in January 2015.
Each painting is 12"x12" in size, and sold separately.
It was truly inspiring to know about bB’s vision to give homeless people a chance at bettering their circumstances and giving their children a shot at education. I too could relate to what homelessness means firsthand - in 1991 during the Iraqi invasion of Kuwait (which I consider home) I, along with thousands of others spent many months in the war zone, several weeks of which were spent homeless in Iraq and Jordan. I know what it is like to be displaced, to feel terror, fear, anxiety, and complete uncertainty about the future. I was 13 at the time.
Depicts a father cradling a swaddled infant.
When I was about 5, I came to India on a holiday. My father is from a rural fishing village, in Alleppey. Attached to a government school near out house, was a large shed, the equivalent of a village kitchen, that gave free breakfast to poor children. My cousin and I wanted to know what it was like to eat there and my parents were happy to take us. I remember eating upma with sugar and bananas, that morning. The lady who served us food, was very amused to see us sitting cross legged with the local children. In the hut behind her, a man sat smiling at us. He was holding a sleeping infant. In spite of their humble circumstances, there was an atmosphere of contentment around them. This painting is based on that memory.
Day and dust settle.As I hold you, you blink at the starsAnd nod off into sleep.A calm settles.A freedom,That only the embrace of walls, can bring.Now it is only peace, my love.Only peace.
The charcoal comes to life,Roofs emerge from the canvas grain.Walls, with pretty rows of bricksSpreading into little mazes Of streets and lanes and paths.There are inroads and alleys in my mind,That will paint itselfInto pebbled cornersAnd rising thatches,Doors, windowsLatches and brackets.But all this will beBut lifeless form,Till the flames of the hearth come alive.
We will run, with the wind in our hair.Looking up at the merry blue sky,we will dream and dancein the warmth, Of a benevolent sun.As we hold handsAnd stamp upon the dewy green,We will sing,With voices we never knew we had,With a sweetness we never knew we had.Much will take root and blossom here.Much will take root and blossom here.
I yearn for a roofBeneath which to clasp the ones I loveto my heart.Deeply, vigorously.To hold them closeIn a safe haven.A sanctum that would expand,Covering them Like a magical protective halo.In this sanctuary of blithe belonging,I want to liveI want to love…
Winter might try and pry.Her cold silver handspicking at planks and panels,Looking for gaps and fissures.But she cannot reach withinthe birdhouse.So tender, these human nestlings;They dream of spring,Wrapped in their warm cocoons.They will thrive, Even while the angry gale that could snuff them out,Shrieks outside.
Thrown away by hands that scratched and bruised,Into arms that caress and comfort.What it must feel likeTo relearn trust again.What it must feel likeTo not fear,the sightof human hands again.What it must feel likeTo relearn love again...
Read more about the artist, Oormila, on our blog!