Life Through a Filtered Lens

Waiting for the metro in 42 Degrees, makes you want to grab onto anything possible to hold you up.

I wish I could have catalogued the responses I received each time I told someone I would be going to India for the summer. Most people saw the opportunity I was about to capture, and figured I was just off on another adventure. Others struggled to suppress the negative connotations they associate with this crazy country, managing to find something positive that was completely transparent. It was almost entertaining at times watching people sit their in disbelief, perplexed by the very idea of it. As an individual who frequently lacks the ability to filter her words, I have to appreciate the brutal honesty of some people and their no bull-shit approach.

“You know they shit in the streets there, eh?”

“To work in a sweat shop?”

And my personal favourite,

“Don’t get raped.”

I can’t help but recognize the underlying concern of that last one. If your friend told you they were getting married, would you follow that up with.. “You know that means you have to have sex with ONLY her for the rest of your life, right?” I think your mother taught you better than that!

Over the past few weeks I have come to realize that what Russel Peters makes his living telling jokes about, how CNN has persuaded you to feel, or what Slumdog Millionaire taught you about poverty; There is an element of truth in everything. Our ability to utilize our experiences to separate distortion is simply the first step, choosing how to perceive the world around us is where the real challenge begins.

Life is all about perception. Each moment in our eyes is captured through the same lens; But like Instagram, we have the ability to choose the filter we want to remember the picture by.

The hard truth is, my unfiltered life in India is filled with the utmost extremes. Each morning I sit on my balcony and drink my tea, which is accompanied by the men who live in the community centre showering in the street and using tree branches as toothbrushes. My blistering hot walk to the overcrowded metro is scattered with beggars, where children physically tug on your shirt and follow you with hopeful eyes. 42 Degree weather is a shock to every pore in your body, where the heat is so exhausting at times it makes you want to pray for snow. The overwhelming curiosity of people is something to make you feel anything but comfortable in your own skin. Last week, someone was stabbed in market down the street from my apartment.

Those are the facts. Undistorted, irrefutable, and unfiltered.

The reality is, we can choose to live our life in fear or love. So often we choose the path of fear, frequently disguised as practicality. Like any creative endeavour, the choice to do what we love does not come without a cloak of uncertainty; I truly believe how we view our experiences is a reflection of how we want to see the world.

Every morning I watch the city of Delhi come alive. My commute is just another step on the journey to my dream job. As I sit designing couture gowns for the likes of Bollywood, the sweat dripping down every crevasse of my body is the last thing on my mind. The entrepreneurial spirit of everyone from the fruit vendor to the street side tailor is something to be admired, teaching me to be selective while I perfect the art of negotiation. The market down the street from me is filled with street food worthy of Anthony Bourdain’s palette, with mango’s that taste like candy and butter chicken that gives your tastebuds a swift kick in the head.

The food, the people, the culture; it is all a beautiful disaster of unexplained correlation.

The truth of what we do in life is always black & white, but you have the ability to colour your experience based on your perception. Choose your filter, make it a reality, and watch the world unfold into a beautiful place.

Pulling iron rods up the freeway towards a better life

The view from my balcony, just taking a casual shower before work each day

Streetside tailor in Vrindava.. he said cheese!

Thailis from the South Indian place in the market. OUT OF THIS WORLD

Popcorn on the cob flame grilled on command in Patel Nagar market

Uncovering the Layers of Chandhi Chowk

It is hard to paint the picture of this wildly complex, and fascinating market. On the surface it seems crowded and dirty, with endless winding alleyways lined with century old shops. As you begin to peel back the layers, the beautiful juxtaposition of extremes revels in all its glory.

The Spice Market in Chandhi Chowk

The streets captivate my soul as I wander into fabric shops filled with material I could only dream of. These beautiful Indian women sit there gathered cross-legged on the floor, inspecting the most vibrant silks with embroidery that would put Elie Saab to shame.

There are men sitting on the side of the street offering anything from custom tailoring to love counselling, perched against the buildings with their Singer machines ready for business. Rickshaws are at every turn, some carrying boxes of produce stacked 15 high. The colourful spices resemble something of perfectly erected sand dunes, filling the air with an intense aroma that makes you want to dive in head first like Al Pacino in Scarface. The street food, the fruit carts, the saree shops, all coming together for one purpose; to survive.

I say the picture is hard to paint, because it is something of a masterpiece. Chandhi Chowk is like an oil painting, ancient in it’s origin but continually evolving without letting the layers dry.

This place is not for the faint of heart. Beyond the fabric, the spices, and the never ending world of commerce; the market reveals its age. The crumbling infrastructure surrounds you like a claustrophobic cloud of worry, walking in fear that the building may collapse at any moment. The makeshift curb side bathrooms hit your nose like mustard gas; gasping for air, you walk and watch the contaminated water flow under your feet into a slum where a child is sitting battered and dirty. That same child is trying to sell you  something, when in all reality they should be the one in school expanding their creative mind.

Stimulation overload. Extremity in all forms of life.

It felt as though I had walked into a back room poker game where all you want to do was play, but everyone at the table stared at me with a curious face wondering if I was lost.

Be bold, walk in like you should be playing the game, and uncover the layers of pandora’s box.

Lost in the beauty of textiles

perfectly Erected Sand Dunes of colour…. every spice, nut, and dried fruit you could imagine

Street Side Tailor

The view through the eyes of a Rickshaw driver

Alleyways lined with Saree shops

The work never stops.

A relatively cheap place to score yourself a beautiful saree

Innocence caught in the craziness of it all. we rode along side his rickshaw for what seemed like 15 minutes, he looked at me with those eyes as if he had seen an alien for the first time

A ‘sprout’ of colour among the inter-workings of it all

Abandoned bookstore in the narrow streets.. so much knowledge lleft to collect dust

  

Endless streetfood vendors line the streets selling what seems like every sort of fried goodness india has to offer

 

Crumbling Infrastructure

This Indian Delicacy Takes Post Meal Rituals to a Whole New Level

“I’ll have an espresso please.”

That is my usual go-to after I have devoured everything in sight. My lack of coffee intake has been hindered in the great country, yet I have something else to now rave about.
  ‘Paan’.. It is an Indian delicacy that is usually ate as an after dinner refresher and known for its digestive and  psychoactive effects (amazing?). The Betel leaves are filled with areca nut paste, sweetened coconut, rose petal jam, lime, Cardamom, Camphor, Roasted fennel seeds, Nutmeg, Anise seeds, Licorice, Almond Cashew, Pistachio, fruit preserves and Katha (a paste derived from the wood of the acacia tree), and edible silver leaf! Then wrapped up and somehow you manage to put the whole thing in your mouth.

The combination of flavours hits your palette like a sledgehammer, especially those fennel seeds! Let’s just say I’ll be on the hunt for these every chance I get.

 

Spotted on the streets of Chandhi Chowk market

 

Day 1

Day #1 at Shantanu & Nikhil Haute Couture complete. This morning my mind was ready and willing; Now I sit lost in my thoughts trying to digest the utmost extremes of it all.

Rocking that Linen like a true Indian on my first day at Shantanu & Nikhi

I witnessed the most extreme poverty and in the same hour saw 50 men doing hand embroidery on the most incredibly beautiful wedding gowns I have ever seen. I got into an altercation with a two year old who tried to steal my scarf (key word, tried), and stood next to a world renowned designer as he conceptualized his next collection.

Soul you have been FED. Bring on day two!

Who’s That Chick

It’s the age old interview question, “Tell me about yourself?”

It may be a job interview, a first date, or the crazy hippie that had just left burning man that was destined to sit beside you on the airplane (true story flying LAX—>SYD). I could give you the cliffs notes and sum it up as, “I grew up in Kingston, have an awesome family, have experienced some incredible endeavours, and my soul is always hungry to find another piece of life’s puzzle.”

That sentence speaks the truth, but fails to answer the question. Yes, where we are from and what we have done plays an integral part in shaping the person we become, but does it really define who we are?

By society’s definition,

I guess you could say I have lived life beating to my own drum with a bus full of groupies I picked up for the ride along the way. It’s been a lifelong festival, but it is simply a few pages in my own history book.

I strongly believe that who I am as a person is reflective in what I love to do. I love to create. That’s who I am. I strive to channel my energy into creating laughter, a delicious meal, a radical friendship, a candid moment, a pretty dress, or a beautiful disaster I like to call my bedroom.

From the wise words of my guru, Jim Carey…

You can fail at what you don’t want, so you might as well take a chance on doing what you love.

So here I am, sharing with you all the things that I love to create. Enjoy my friends!

Life through reflective lenses