Articles from September 2018

Published

slippery threads

Sometimes the words slip away so fast, I start to doubt if they were there at all. I’m holding a handful of slippery, wiggly threads — the answer to all my challenges so nearly articulated, so close to spilling out complete and clear. And then I blink, or swallow, or cough. And the words are gone. Vaguer than a dream. More fleeting than lightening. And buried deeper in my heart.

— heidi kalyani, 2018 
from the *nothing is black and white* project: illustration created out of meditation with a single unbroken line

Published

quietly now

Step closer, she said, if you want to hear my soul speak. It shares quietly now — through masks and mirrors and false self-doubt. It’s been startled, mis-heard and put down so many times that it no longer shares freely what it used to share so fiercely.

— heidi kalyani, 2018 
from the *nothing is black and white* project: illustration created out of meditation with a single unbroken line

Published

vastness


When I sit with myself like this, in stillness and silence, I feel vast and impervious. I am a stone that gets wet and dries off. A stem that leans into the wind and straightens again. A curl that bounces back.

— heidi kalyani, 2018 
from the *nothing is black and white* project: illustration created out of meditation with a single unbroken line