The Invisible Work of a Creative Life

When people ask, with curiosity, what I do all day, I usually smile and reply, ‘Nothing much.’ It is a convenient answer, simple, unprovocative, and often enough to satisfy the questioner. The conversation moves on, and so does life

But the truth is far fuller

Much of my day unfolds inside a creative bubble. It is a space where ideas are constantly forming, dissolving, and reshaping themselves. I move from one thought to another, from making to unmaking, from observing to imagining. This kind of work rarely announces itself loudly. There are no fixed hours, no visible milestones, no obvious outputs that can be easily measured or displayed

In a world that often values productivity by numbers and material outcomes, such labour can appear weightless, almost invisible. Creative work is frequently compared to financial gain, and when it does not immediately translate into income, it is easily misunderstood or undervalued. Yet the rewards it offers are profound: a sense of purpose, inner clarity, emotional resilience, and the satisfaction of creating something meaningful from within

That said, it would be dishonest to romanticise creativity as something detached from real-world needs. Financial independence matters. It matters for everyone, and artists are no exception. The ability to sustain oneself lends dignity, stability, and freedom to any form of work, creative or otherwise. Passion alone cannot replace the need for security, nor should it be expected to

Perhaps the gap lies not in the work itself, but in how we perceive it. Not all labour is loud. Not all effort leaves visible footprints. Some of the most valuable work happens in silence, slowly, patiently, and away from public validation

To say ‘nothing much’ is easier. But in reality, it is a life silently lived in attention, imagination, and continuous becoming. And that, too, is work, deep, deliberate, and very real

Don’t you think so?

#roksanatales

Bravery

Climb the hill
Then jump across the small gap
Bravery feels free …

#roksanatales

Oubaitori

Lost, found, blooms anew …
Mountains stand in silent strength …
Far, but near, a song unfolds …

Oubaitori/ japanese
(n.) the idea that people, like flowers, bloom in their own time and in their individual ways ….

A remarkable day today, A Monday! Je t’aime comme tu es ….

I♥️

#roksanatales

Captivated

This love-story is stuck on a chord in my heartstrings …

#roksanatales

The Moonlit Night, Tonight

Srinagar, Kashmir

I’m so lost now …
Seeing you
In the breeze of the moonlit night …

That faraway moon brightens our long conversations so much,
That it feels
Like we could talk forever
In the deep of this moonlit night …

I’m so lost now
Looking deep in your eyes
As you whisper sweet nothings
In the breeze of the moonlit night tonight …

Detached Attachment

Shalimar

I was waiting
For you
And you didn’t show up
while my odes started to burn …
A heartache …

After a while,
There a humble person came along ..
Seemed so at the moment …
I asked him to take a picture of me and
There I sat at the corner of a bench
In the garden …
Took some time to
Get my mood toned
Up my unsettled face …
There the man waited patiently …
A gentleman ….

Once it’s all set yet unsteady
As I was,
I heard the man said, ‘Ready?’
Twinkled at him and said, ‘Yes’
Smiling …
With the chilly breeze that was
Passing through
I preferred my warm
Jacket kept aside
And my heavy heart smile
For the warmth I needed ….
A harmony ….

Later on I welcomed a friendly
Conversation with the stranger
He seemed to like all of it …
My chitter-chattering
And laughter flowed freely, naturally …
Then we started walking
In the garden, blooming all around
An attachment ….

The balance was the two umbrellas
For each of us,
His violet, mine yellow one
We were walking and talking
Keeping the in-between distance mindfully yet our heart-felt notions were quietly replaying …
The undefined mysteries of the world, meanwhile …
Letting love in our heart, unknowingly …
After a while, we faded into our different paths
Just two strangers with memories
A detachment ….

.

.

.

#roksanatales

Tell me, what is that one odd yet beautiful encounter you experienced in your lifetime?