Feline Echoes, Fragile Steps
Mihika D.
Oil on canvas
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A tangled web of thought, where colors and forms resist definition, unfolds in layers that mirror my own contradictions. The cheetahs are movement embodied—vivid streaks of instinct and impossibility. They weave through structures that are less architecture and more uncertainty, an endless loop of ascent and descent, progress and retreat. A Marathi woman in the center—her hands stirring, creating—anchors the chaos, yet even her movements are fragile, fleeting. Her making bhakri, a traditional bread, feels ritualistic, nurturing in a space where nothing holds still. And then there is me, or a version of me, gazing outward yet dissolving inward. The self-portrait is less a likeness and more a question, a reflection that falters as soon as it forms. The process itself felt like walking the staircase—always moving, never arriving. It was an act of layering intention and instinct, allowing forms to emerge as if they had always been there, waiting.
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To me, creativity means taking risks. It means pursuing what you want, regardless of how other people might perceive it, and embracing your identity and beliefs. Creativity is often tied to traditional forms of expression like art, but I find it in every action we take, every word we speak.
