A POETRY OF MOLTEN WAX, FABRICS AND LACES
Layers of Becoming
We walk, step by step, through the landscapes of our own lives—through struggle and solitude, through longing and becoming.
The path is never straight, never simple. It folds in layers, textured with time, shaped by all that we endure, all that we embrace.
This collection is a tribute to that journey.
Built with poetry, fabrics, and molten wax, these pieces echo the way life shapes us—one experience at a time.
Inspired in part by Rabindranath Tagore’s song “Jodi Tor Dak Shune Keu Na Ase Tobe Ekla Cholo Re” (If no one responds to your call, walk alone), these paintings carry the quiet strength of solitude. The music sheet of this song is collaged into the foundation of each piece, layered beneath ink, fabric, and wax—like a whisper of resilience woven into the hills.
The rolling landscapes, melted together from memory and time, hold the weight of becoming. A lone figure walks atop them, carrying nothing but herself. Not searching for an end, but learning to belong to the path itself.
Every edge is frayed, every fiber unraveled—just like life itself.
The loose threads, the worn fabrics, the delicate laces that refuses to be tamed—these are not imperfections but echoes of existence. Life is raw, unfinished, and beautifully undone. The frayed borders of these paintings mirror the way we carry the past within us—torn, weathered, yet still holding together, shaping the landscapes of who we are becoming.
We walk alone, yet we are part of something greater.
Layers of Becoming I
ALONE, YET COMPLETE







Layers of Becoming II
The path walks with me







Layers of Becoming III
Walking without waiting







Layers of Becoming IV
Carrying only the moment







A Poem for the Path
Not lost, only becoming
Each step, a quiet truth
The path shifts, but I remain
Alone, yet never empty
I walk, not to arrive
But to BE..
The Journey is Yours Alone

For years, I walked alone. I watched as life seemed to settle easily for others—marriage, love, stability—while I wandered, waiting for something I could not name.
I searched outside myself, trying to fill the emptiness with fleeting connections. But the answers were never there. It was only when I turned inward — stopped chasing and started embracing—that everything changed.
The moment I embraced my own journey, the world around me changed.
And in that moment of quiet acceptance, the person who had been there all along stepped forward, not as the friend I had always known, but as the partner I had never seen before. At forty, love arrived, not as a rescue, but as a reflection of the change within me.
The journey had never been about finding another. It had been about finding myself. And when I did, everything else followed.
This collection holds that truth.
A peek into my process



