A huge wall glared at me with its thousand jarring eyes – loud colors and quaint curves relivening a motley of characters and imaginative scapes etched from another age. An eloquent symphony thrummed from within the bricks – some long unfound style of music vibrating over the wall.

I traced my eye over the shadows of figures flitting across the huge obelisk – a variety of elegant movements and costumes, different dances danced by the same figure at different times – all convening together simultaneously on this wall, hemorrhaging one expression.

The mighty stone seemed to move and transform within itself – revealing antiqued expressions – still dynamic- that once burnished with the youth of just having come into the world. Yet now, this grand obelisk has aged, rugged by the wearing passage of time that fights its way through this barricade, unable to quaff its existence.

The dancer had long been silenced and years had blown like winds since the soil reclaimed her body. But this epitaph carved in her days still survives – the visible expressions of her invisible ideas and feelings, weaved together to recreate the faded and forgotten dancer for times far away…

I cordially invite you into the dome of ‘expressions’, often also called the ‘spire of art’.

You are now at the most divergent of places – radiant with the sundry of my thoughts and passions, meddled with imagination and taste, and wrought into art. This is the concrete reflection of my spirit, resonating from within a horde of hues and symbols. These reflections have built a grand empire of aesthetic possibilities. Art, literature, music, dance and other luxuriant expressions that ignite flames of inspiration as well as garnish life with beauty and richness, nestle in this space.

Here, you can expect to find tapestries of imagination and the unbound flow of passion- stories, poems, galleries of art, and colors…

Decades of dust has covered the inspiring footprints of past artists. Their vibrant, eccentric personalities and unconventional perspectives of even trivial matters that set them apart as mavericks in their days, have faded to the eyes of all but those few who dig into the sands of their personal history. But what really lives now is the treasured tomes of Shakespeare, the compositions of Mozart and the masterpieces of Salvador Dali. While the legacies of the artists themselves have been forgotten, the art that they had created, just a small expression of their innovative minds then, is what still survives now, recalling the artist’s existence every time.

True, the works alone can’t reanimate the artist to life in all aspects. Yet, they are like strings – just meager strands unwound from the exquisite tapestry of life, but important to tether the being’s small existence to the appreciating eyes of the wide world.

Hence, in my journey to leave behind a reflection of the forgotten dancer, I erect these epitaphs – my little landmarks in the sphere of art to at least speak my name, even if not to reflect my life.

With these pieces of tangible expressions that reflect pieces of me, I recreate myself for far off times, trying to trigger awake inspiration for years away yet – the story of the forgotten dancer.